Tokyo was riding high on the tsunami of global economic supremacy when the bubble broke in '91. Sega Last Bronx . .
Then things fell apart. Hundred billion yen building complexes were left half-finished, and salarymen started having instant ramen for lunch as the slush-money supplies dried up. And slowly, the hidden Japan began to emerge, crawling in from the shadows on the outskirts of town. Biker gangs and Chinese mafia; loansharks and slave-traders; Doomsday cults, madmen and thieves. Sega Last Bronx . .
Those were the days of the first All-Tokyo StreetWar where young gangs met and clashed and slid into ruin down streets slick with their own blood. Then a single crew of unstoppable riders appeared to put an end to the violence and bloodshed. Through fair-handed dealings and iron-fisted fighting skills, the Soul Crew gang blazed a path for the future of Tokyo's young -- until, under circumstances still riddled with doubt and accusations, the leader of the Soul Crew was viciously killed. The tenuous balance of power was thrown out of whack, and every street tribe with pride, dreams or ambition felt the shockwave of his fall like a call to arms. The Second StreetWar was ignited. Sega Last Bronx . .
At the height of the fighting, an ominously worded challenge to the leaders of the toughest gangs appeared in graffiti scrawls all over town.
Fellow Citizens: We all grow weary of this bitter strife. And so now I call on each of you in the name of peace. You all know how useless these recent squabbles are. I have a modest proposal to remedy this unfortunate situation: I call for a fighting tournament, solely between the chosen leaders of each worthy gang -- a decisive battle that will spare the lives of the young while settling the question of which group has the power needed to rule Tokyo. Of course the fights will be held in secrecy, and the results will not be made public. This is a fight for honor, not fame.
A final word: I regret that under no circumstances can a refusal to participate be accepted. In the event that any of you do not attend, I will make arrangements to have flowers sent to the funeral. I look forward to meeting each of you at the appointed hour. Sega Last Bronx . .
Several of the recipients of this very peculiar challenge shrugged it off as a practical joke or thought it was a trap set by a rival gang. But when members of their crews were found face-down in Tokyo Bay, the truth of its warning became very clear. There will be no RSVPs to the Last Bronx.
Sega Last Bronx . .
