Prologue
2004
“My car… it’s getting too fast for its own good,” said the owner of a heavily modified, white Nissan Fairlady Z32 as he hit the brake pedal viciously in order to ready his coupe for a wide right corner. “It’s trying to kill me in some way.”
On the outside lane, quickly, he turned the steering wheel, allowing his coupe to enter the said turn on the inside just before his rival, a modified red Mazda RX-7 FD3S, slipped onto the outside lane before dropping a gear to 4th. That allowed the rear wheels to spin more, enabling the lightweight coupe to enter the corner into the direction needed. A ‘tch’ left the driver’s mouth as he used the outer lane to overtake the seemingly oversteering Nissan, gaining the lead ever so quickly through it.
“Damn it,” the Z driver sputtered. “I can’t lose my position as ShinKanjou’s Ace. But this Z of mine… it’s beyond its limit.”
However, as his thoughts were as it is, his reactions contradicted; flooring the throttle after feathering it to recover from a probable spin out, he steered the 1989 Z32 to the direction of the road, while its rear slid outwards in a dangerous manner. That had him breaking out in cold sweat. 800bhp only to the rear wheels was insane. No one in the right mind would do so, not even the owner himself, who eventually dared to upgrade the power to such a level. He hit the gear knob from 4th to 5th. That move, though cost him the lead, it did managed to get his white Nissan stabilized while the revmeter tapped a mere 4500rpm, just under the 4800rpm mark where the twin-turbochargers would start spooling up. Exiting the wide corner on the inside lane, he stole a glance at the speedometer; 230kmh it read. He had to gear down in order to allow the revs to rise, and the twin-turbochargers to kick in.
“The RX-7’s not far ahead. I’ll take advantage of the Wangan Straight to overtake, no matter how reckless this time round. Hope it’ll be the final time I’ll be doing it. I’m starting to hate this,” he thought with doubt in his mind.
Gearing down to 4th, speeds rose from 230kmh, to 260kmh at the redline; a sign to hit 5th gear. The Z driver hesitated at that moment. He would be hitting 300kmh once he redlines the next gear before going on to sixth, topping 370kmh. Cold sweat ran down his face, literally disturbed at the current situation. His throat was dry, even though he had gulped down a bottle of cold water before the duel commenced. But even so, he came to a conclusion.
“Let’s go, Spirit Z. It’s either winning, or crashing hard.”
Gearing up to 5th, the white Nissan gained more acceleration as the rear tyres squealed faintly before grip registered onto the asphalt. Its carbon fiber aftermarket GT rear spoiler was one of the aspects that provided the much needed rear downforce and grip; else the immense acceleration would be for naught. It had been only less than ten seconds, and already, the 300ZX had hit the stipulated 300kmh. The driver swore under his breath; had it always been this quick at increasing speeds? Without a second thought, he geared up to 6th, but had applied half throttle on the accelerator. He was still doubtful about his actions, even though he had been doing this stint since 1999. His mind was in a mess, yet still concentrating on the road ahead- he lane changed at that moment to evade a truck cab. The rear of his Fairlady Z slid outwards slightly, but recovered the moment its tyres regained grip on the road. 320kmh was on the speedometer. He was closing in onto the red RX-7, who had been stalking him for the past two months, just for this title duel.
“For the final time, after that, no more,” the Z driver muttered under his breath, before he floored the gas pedal.
Revs rose considerably this time round, instead of the usual insane rise from the previous gears. The steering felt heavy this time round, thanks to its downforce from both front and rear that also kept the coupe planted to the asphalt. That was when the two battling coupes hit the Wangan Straight, most definitely the place to settle most races after several corners in the ShinKanjou. Slipstreaming behind the RX-7, it allowed the white, older coupe to catch up before lane-changing recklessly to the outer most one; in need to evade a taxi this time round. The Z driver was in fear at that moment. He had never realized the true dangers of highway racing till now; he was often blinded by the thrill of speed. 350kmh was on the speedometer. That required him to have split second reactions in order to swerve away vehicles that now seemed to look like stationary blocks of metal. Grey eyes glanced at the RX-7, surprisingly, still in the lead on the far left lane. He had to think fast to devise a plan to overtake. Slipstreaming was the first idea to do so, but that required him to swerve several vans and pick-ups to reach the same lane as his rival, and would hence increase the distance in between them. That was when another idea came into mind, slipstream behind those vehicles, no matter how little the Z would receive. Overall, it would still result of the same plan, but at a cost of lane changing constantly to evade them.
He bit his lip while initiating that plan. Slipstreaming behind a truck cab for a few seconds, he lane-changed where a van was up ahead. That too, he did the same stint for at least five seconds before lane-changing again, this time round behind a taxi. He stole a glance at the speedometer at that moment; 360kmh. He was 10kmh away from his Fairlady’s top speed. The Mazda was beginning to lose its lead. He wanted to lift a smile, knowing that given time, he would overtake the lightweight red coupe, and keep on going before hitting the connecting bridge towards Yokohane Inbound, hence concluding the duel. Unfortunately, the constant lane-changing had an effect on its handling; tyre wear. 365kmh was on the speedometer, and he was already gaining a lead with the RX-7 still insisting on racing. The Z driver was worried about at that point of time. With the reduced grip on the front wheels, it meant that he needed more time to lane change, even though he had the downforce to provide it. 370kmh, the 300ZX’s top speed, was shown on the speedometer. Grey eyes were glued to the road ahead, hoping that there was not a need to lane change at the point of time. Entering the tunnel at the same speed, his eyes soon caught attention of the Mazda, which seemed to have smoke streaming out from the bonnet before a horrendous sound overwhelmed the sight. Tyres screeching were heard; its brakes were still working. A hard crash ensued for the red RX-7 as the front hit the barriers before the rear spun out, ceasing movements after the rear fender rubbed against it.
“A victory for me then,” he said before complementing himself. “Good job, Hiroshi.”
Tapping on the brake pedal, he geared down to 4th, then into 3rd, allowing the speed to drop to a considerable 100kmh while the revs were under 4800rpm. Even though he had defended his title as ‘ShinKanjou’s Ace’, there was something empty in this win.
“A hollow victory,” thought Hiroshi. “I’m quitting.”
1st Chapter
Trial
It had been almost two months after he had ceased his usual highway racing stint after realizing that his white 1989 Nissan Fairlady 300ZX was getting a little too dangerous for its own good. During that time, it had been hell for him. The cold turkey was very much ripping him apart, since he had a lot of spare time to get occupied with. Glancing at the wall clock of his own rented apartment was a major occurrence to him; to the point he actually got rid of it, and went in search for a proper job instead of working in a bookshop.
Hiroshi Takabe, 25 years of age, was his name, and as similar to a smoker quitting, the symptoms mirrors indirectly. But even so, he had taken measures to prevent him from hitting the highway and speed like a crazy animal. The carbon fiber GT rear spoiler had been removed and loaned it to his colleague in place of the factory based variant. Suspension wise, it had been softened, since he was not racing anymore, though he did leave the transmission as it is, since he would only be driving economically now.
“I’m starting to rot here if I don’t get a unique, or proper job,” he sputtered before looking at the mirror.
Grey were his eyes while his black short hair was somewhat a simple, lightly backcombed with fringe that was also combed, but just to his right, and gelled to keep it in place. At a height of 1.73 metres, one could say he is of average size, though he is slightly taller than his only other colleague, Kenichi Nobunaga. He glanced at his attire; they were of a simple grey Polo T-shirt with faded blue denims while shoe wear is of a simple black sport shoes. Nothing wrong with it, he thought. His attention then turned to his bare rented apartment. It was almost time for him to pay up the rent, but he felt it was time to move on to another prefecture, or so he thought when he stumbled upon a unique job in the newspaper classifieds.
“Now, this is uncalled for,” he muttered, reading out the contents of that small ad. “Butler needed. Must be able to live in-house, and interact well with the family. Working hours is from 8am till 9pm. Salary is 250’000 yen.”
Hiroshi paused at that moment. 250’000 yen, at least it is a 50’000 yen difference to his current job. He rubbed his chin; being a butler seems to be a good idea for him, since as stated in the ad, he could find free accommodation while working. There was no time for being picky if he wanted to get out from the cold turkey. With a faint sigh, he got to his white 300ZX, and headed for the location stated under the ad itself. Fortunately for him, it was in the Tokyo Prefecture; hence he would not have to go far if he wanted to meet Kenichi, who happened to live in the same district. However, he hesitated.
“My Z is well known in this area, even if I remove its recognizable aftermarket rear spoiler. Maybe I should head to Kenichi first, if he can take care of this car,” he thought before making a quick detour. “First impressions matter when it comes to getting a job.”
It had only been fifteen minutes into the journey before he arrived at the recognizable detached house. With a quick hit on the horn, a man in a garage suit emerged from the back of the building before jogging towards the main gate to open it. It was unusual for Kenichi to be in that attire; dread kicked in for Hiroshi.
“Yo, what brings you here?” said the brunette’s colleague, putting a wide smile on his face.
Hiroshi could only let out a sigh, before asking a question, literally hitting the nail, “Did you just get yourself another car?”
Kenichi Nobunaga, 26 years of age, sports brown eyes while his hair would often be in a mess thanks to the cars’ grease. But even so, with proper combing, his hair would be of a simple brown, shoulder length with a fringe combed away from his eyes in either direction. At a height of 1.70 metres, his attire reflects very much of his mechanical background; simple red T-shirt and tough grey jeans, while shoes are of durable hiking boots.
“So, you knew just from my face, eh?” he replied before adding in. “Yes, I’ve gotten myself a white Toyota Chaser Tourer V, and it just returned from the tuner company I sent it two weeks ago; TOM’S. I’m just tweaking the suspension settings and doing a quick oil change.”
“That’s the 5th car you bought in two years. So, you ditched that white Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IV GSR already?” Hiroshi replied while getting out of his coupe. “And how’s the rear spoiler I loaned it to you?”
“The Lancer is still around, though I’m not using it often since my thrill for touge races is at an all time low. Right now, I’m geared up for highway racing down Yokohane. And as for the rear spoiler, it’s going to be bolted onto the Chaser,” the brown eyed man answered ever so quickly. “So, what brings you here?”
“Well, I just found a job that I might find it interesting, but I wouldn’t want to use my Z to go there. So, could you take care of this Fairlady while I head there-.” the ex-racer’s mouth was cut off when his colleague chipped in.
“You can take my Lancer Evo. It has 350bhp, so it’s kinder than that rampaging… 800bhp butch car you own.”
“I’m not too sure about that-,”
“I insist. At least give this Lancer a spin or two, since I might be concentrating more on my Chaser. But don’t worry; I’ll do a run or two on your Z just to keep the engine going instead of sitting in one corner, collecting a pile of dust,” with that, he tossed the car keys to the Mitsubishi towards Hiroshi, left to catch them.
“If you say so,” he replied, passing the 300ZX keys to Kenichi before pacing his way to the Lancer. “But I’m not sure how long before I’ll return to get it back.”
“Then keep a spare key of your Z with you. You do have it always, in your jeans pocket, right? And besides, my place is open to you when you need it, 24/7,” Kenichi replied, tossing the spanner in his right hand around.
… … …
“All right, where is that place?” thought Hiroshi in the Lancer Evolution IV. “It’s like a needle in a haysta- what? You’re kidding me, right? I was expecting something of a traditional, quaint Japanese atmosphere, not… an European variant.”
He hit the brake pedal the moment he caught the glimpse of the stipulated location. Just right before him was the open wrought iron main gate, all sculpted with intricate, yet charming appearance, and beyond that, all he could see was a seemingly vast garden, about the size of half a football field before a mansion, very much of a Victorian style was seen. He had never expected such a place to even exist in Tokyo, let alone the whole of Japan. But even so, he was soon greeted by a woman, most probably in her late twenties, knocking on the driver’s side window. Rolling down the window as quickly as possible, instead of uttering a word, Hiroshi simply stared at the lass, who wore what it seemed to be a maid attire with a broom in her right hand. At an estimated height of 1.75 metres, her eyes were of maroon while her long light brown wavy hair ends just at the mid-back, though her fringe and side burns were initially straight before it curled at the ends, near her chin-line. Those eyes blinked for a few times before she spoke.
“Excuse me; are you applying for the butler job?”
That was enough to get Hiroshi replying, though there was a short delay in the beginning, “Err, yes. It was on today’s classifieds, so… yes, I am applying for it.”
“Don’t mind if I hitch a ride on your car back to the mansion. I’ll guide you to the master butler, who would be interviewing you. But before that, I go by the name of Miyuki Koshiro, the maid in the household,” the blonde replied before getting into the passenger seat without Hiroshi giving an answer. “Just follow the road, and go round the back of the mansion, where there’s the family parking lot.”
“Umm… Hiroshi Takabe here, and- huh? Family parking lot?” sputtered the brunette, feathering the throttle as the Lancer averaged 30kmh into the area, though the interior was a little… boisterous.
“This car is a little noisy at such a speed. Oh, yes, the parking lot accommodates ten, but only four are often occupied, hence you can use one, should you get employed as well. But at the moment there's only one right now; the master butler's... TVR Cerbera Speed Six if my memory serves right,” chirped the lady before Hiroshi got round to reach the stated area as directed by her before parking the sedan. “Now, if you would just follow me, I’ll guide you to Klaus, the master butler.”
“I don’t like the sound of that name. It feels eerie somehow,” murmured the ex-racer with a chill running down his spine before a thought ran through his mind. "What kind of a car is a TVR Cerber-blah blah that thing? It was not in the parking lot when I was there."
“So long you speak with your mind, he will like you,” the maid implied.
With the uncertainty in his mind, Hiroshi was very much stumped by the interior; though bear little of his expression. Marble floors were laid out as the ground while carpets acted as cushioning for furniture like sofas, tables, end tables, even the grand piano that sits next to the glass wall overlooking the main gate. Lighting were provided by wall lamps that were of 18th century design, made to look as if powered by oil while a chandelier hung high in the front hall, which did make Hiroshi a little nervous. He never liked fragile things hanging so dangerously over him, especially when he was almost hit by a falling durian while on holiday in South-East Asia with his colleague, Kenichi, who had kicked the durian tree when it occurred.
“Ch-chandelier… sharp, pointy,” thought Hiroshi, somehow pacing his way quickly down the said area, not wanting to see that… thing.
Walls were painted cream white while borders were of natural wooden brown, with doors of matching colour, only lacquered to give off a polished finish. Artifacts such as vases and antiques were neatly placed on end tables that give off the same vibe as them as the duo paced down the corridor past the flight of stairs that was of teak before Miyuki stopped to what it seemed a door with an old English handwriting that read ‘Office’. It felt a little doubtful for Hiroshi once again, considering that a private mansion having an office; or maybe it is used for accounting purposes, since maintaining such a big structure would cost a lot when it comes to paying bills. The brunette had not been paying attention for quite a while before Miyuki tapped his left shoulder, signaling that he could enter the said place.
“Pray hard that he does not test you on driving,” warned the maid before pacing her way back to the front hall.
He was very much left puzzled by that fact, but shrugged it off before entering the office.
“Hiroshi Takabe, I assume?” went a rather deep voiced man, though not to the point a scary variant. “Please do sit in one of the couches and wait for a minute or two while I sort out with the accounts.”
The ex-racer could only reply with a nod before sitting on one of the three leather couches laid out in front of the desk where ‘Klaus’ was. But the brunette figured it was the best time to take a glance at this employer. Most probably in his late thirties, he sported short brown hair that was combed neatly without a fringe out of place while a moustache on his upper lip was seen. At about 1.80 metres tall, his eyes were of natural dark brown while his attire was of a neat, typical butler uniform, but with a black blazer and maroon tie. But even so, his appearance was very much similar to a businessman, no matter how Hiroshi looked. An audible thud of files being neatly arranged by the side of the desk caught the ex-racer’s attention before ‘Klaus’ grabbed a piece of paper, possibly for employment purposes before he introduced himself.
“First things first, my name is Klaus Richmond, head butler of the household. Though at the moment we are still able to maintain the mansion well, we are in need of another butler to lighten the load, hence your presence. Now, Hiroshi Takabe, do you have any experience at household cleaning, or worked in the services sector?” the head butler started off the interview.
“Yes, I’ve worked in a bookshop, mainly doing maintenance of the place, and assisting with customers who require help in search of the books needed. It’s basically a two-man job, but I was able to pull it off without problems,” the brunette replied with confidence.
“I see, that’s good. Now, you do know that this job requires you to live in-house with the family, hence to minimize the time needed to travel to and fro from home and work. Would you be able to do so?”
“My rent is coming to an end by the end of this month, and I have been looking around for a place where I can work and live at the same time, hence, I see the requirements of this job fits my needs as well,”
“Now, that’s coincidence,” commented Klaus before taking a quick glance outside, then sparking off a question. “For a moment, I spotted your vehicle; a white Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IV while I was doing my work earlier on. I assume you are a good driver?”
Hiroshi was stumped by that moment. Never had he known he would be questioned about it. A moment of silence separated in between them before the brunette gathered up the courage to reply.
“It depends on how you evaluate.”
“You sound a little unsure at that reply. I doubt your abilities as a chauffeur. But if you insist on taking in the job, please do wait outside the gate at 10pm. We’ll head for C1 Outer Loop in your Lancer. If your performance satisfies my requirements, then you will officially get the job. For now, you are marked, in a sense that you have the highest probability to take the position,” was the head butler’s response.
Hiroshi’s mouth hung open when he heard it. Not again, he thought. He swore that he would no longer race down the highway, but now, he was beginning to feel the pinch. He was not sure how it would turn out, but in order to get the job, he had to do so.
“All right, I’ll be there,” said the ex-racer with a hint of regret.
… … …
10pm…
The ex-racer was very much nervous as he waited at the entrance of the main gate. It was queer that the only people habiting the place were the head butler, and the maid, till later on he was told that majority of the household were on holiday, even some of the other maids and butlers. After all, it was the summer season- a rather bulky appearance came into view; Klaus. Amusingly, as an informal attire, it was just simply his butler uniform, but without the tie and blazer. Hiroshi, who was already in the sport saloon, shifted the gear knob into 1st the moment the head butler got in.
“The interior looks mildly upgraded, and… it is a bit noisy even at idle. Removed the sound insulation?” Klaus asked, who somehow had the knowledge about automobiles.
“Very much. It belongs to a friend of mine, but I was the one who tuned it to his specifications,” said Hiroshi very frankly, not wanting the employer to dig deeper about his history.
“Well, we shouldn’t dilly dally now. Let’s head for C1 Outer Loop. If possible, get yourself into a duel. It’ll very much help me evaluate on how you perform; both offensive and defensive,” replied the head butler, after wearing the seat belt.
As the ex-racer heads to the stipulated place, a though ran through his mind, very much knowing he was going back to the scene, temporarily, “I can’t escape from it, why?”
It had taken only about fifteen minutes worth of driving through the streets of Tokyo before they hit the Shutokou Highway, C1 Outer Loop section. Maintaining at a speed of 80kmh at the moment, Hiroshi hesitated. That had Klaus nudging the ex-racer’s left elbow, a sign to start the test. The Japanese did not utter a word; he floored the accelerator before gearing up to 3rd prematurely hence the sport saloon could deal with the wide right corner with ease. Speeds rose up to 140kmh the moment the turbocharger kicked in. Hiroshi tapped the brakes before lane changing on the inside to evade a taxi before turning the steering wheel to the right in a firm, yet defensive manner. Tyres did squeal at that point, but did not pose a threat of understeering through the said turn. Clearing the corner on the inside while gearing up to 4th the moment the speedometer read 150kmh. A small burst of flames spat out from its exhaust pipe before a faint thrust of acceleration pushed the sedan faster, overtaking a yellow Subaru Impreza GC8 at that moment, though unintentionally. That had the driver of the said saloon agitated and set on pursuit to Hiroshi, tailgating for a few moments before flashing its headlights to initiate a duel.
“Good timing,” commented the head butler. “Best you accept the challenge.”
“And I had just stopped…” the brunette paused at that moment, knowing that if he were to go on further, he would have blown his cover. “All right.”
Hiroshi did not bother to slow down for the Impreza to catch up. Instead, he kept on going, turning the wheel to the left in order to deal with a wide left turn while remaining on the outside lane, at 195kmh. Grey eyes widened just as the Lancer had hit mid-apex of the said turn; he tapped the brakes, allowing the car to slow down before entering the inside lane. The Mitsubishi was understeering at that specific moment, and if he were to keep on going, he would very much be rubbing against the barriers- the recognizable sound of the boxer engine from the rival Subaru rang into his ears. It had gotten louder before the said sport sedan overtook on the outside without a hint of hesitation. The ex-racer stole a look at the speedometer; 220kmh was the speed before he turned right early to deal with a quick right turn. The sudden change of direction caused the rear of the Lancer to slide outwards before its four-wheel drive system worked its way to recover the traction needed, clearing the said turn at a decent 215kmh.
Gearing up to 5th at the said speed, he lined up the Mitsubishi behind the Impreza GC8, allowing it to slipstream. Klaus raised an eyebrow, somehow impressed by Hiroshi’s driving techniques, but even so, there was one corner in the C1 Outer Loop that had most drivers’ attention; a moderate left turn with a slight decline, located just a few corners away from where they were.
“If you fail at that turn, you’re such a waste,” thought the head butler, having a negative assumption.
A faint s-turn was next. Grey eyes narrowed for a moment, focusing on the road ahead of the leading Impreza; a truck on the inside lane, and a van on the outside slightly further down. Hiroshi tapped on the brakes before gearing down to 4th at 160kmh. The yellow Subaru reacted first with a harsh right turn into the outside lane in order to evade the truck while the brunette was waiting for the right time for the assault. The left turn was next. Brake lights lit up on the Impreza at the wrong time, most probably surprised that there was a van in its way. Now, thought the ex-racer. Flooring the throttle, the sudden surge of acceleration, and the quick left turn to the wheel had the Lancer slipping into the inside lane, making a clean overtake past the Subaru, and kept on going, hoping that the duel would end- it did not. Hiroshi was stumped by the fact that the yellow sport saloon ha caught up again, before he assumed a possibility.
“Afterburner,” muttered the brunette, catching Klaus’s attention, who did not reply soon after.
Dealing a quick left turn was easy for Hiroshi; it was simply a faint turn to the left while tapping 175kmh on the speedometer. But even so, the next corner was the one that he had been waiting for. Lane-changing to the outer lane on the right, he continued flooring the accelerator, allowing the Mitsubishi to hit 220kmh while the Subaru still tailed behind. His left hand was on the gear knob while the left leg on the clutch pedal. He knew that making a wrong move would simply result of a quick understeer moment before a crash into the moderate left corner with a faint decline.
Brake lights lit up on the Lancer while Hiroshi’s left leg kicked the clutched pedal. His right leg, now partially on the brake pedal, then moved back to the throttle while his left hand geared down to 3rd, and his right, steered hard to the left. All those movements he had made sent the Lancer entering the said corner at 130kmh before its rear slid out thanks to the sudden traction loss by the said decline. Hiroshi floored the throttle knowing what he was doing while both his hands gripped onto the steering wheel, a little tighter than before. Grip registered back onto the rear wheels before the white Mitsubishi made its getaway from the said turn before a bone screeching crash was heard behind them. The yellow Impreza had very much concentrated on catching up with Hiroshi, without the thought of the said corner. The driver had done ways to evade it, but to no avail; speeds of 250kmh was a little too much. But even so, it was still considered a victory for Hiroshi.
“All right, let’s get out of here. Don’t really want more highway racers to challenge you,” Klaus remarked. “But even so, you amused me back then at that corner; it’s as if you knew how to deal with it by the back of your hand.”
“It’s nothing much, really. Just a movement or two, and there, cleared the corner,” Hiroshi replied modestly, allowing the white Lancer to slow down back to 80kmh, then to 50kmh after hitting the streets.
“Then I have nothing to hold back. Welcome to the Takamichi Household, Hiroshi Takabe. You’ve passed the test. In fact, you were the first, out of some two hundred applicants in the past, if my mind still recalls well,” the head butler complimented, though the ex-racer was stumped by the huge number of applicants that had failed, thanks to this test.
“I have a gut feeling that this household might not be an ordinary one,” the brunette commented.
“Oh, why is that so?”
“Not sure, just a feeling, that’s all.”