It seems like so long ago. It was midnight. Ryo Niko was standing upon a pedestrian bridge built at a road running through a container freight station industrial belt at a wharf. Below, there was a 6-kilometers straight line street called the Beach Road. Far beyond the road, which was almost pitch-dark with very scarce street lights, there was a crossing on a red light, and there, a car had its orange-colored hazards blinking, there.
It became 1:00 a.m.. The hazards went out. Headlights went on and high beams glared 2-times. To follow the glaring, a big sound of blast of an exhaust pipe resounded in the night sky. Then the headlights of the car jumped up slightly like the car wheelied and its tires screamed as they chafed with the road. The car started headed to the pedestrian bridge, slowly. But what looked slowly was only in Niko’s eyesight. The car was already, actually running at 80 -kilometers per hour, at least.