The new approach to take attention away from those that might otherwise become targets proved effective if awkward. While Jak had problems at first taking the actions, Keira responded wonderfully with offense and disdain in public...and overwhelming encouragement in private. The rest of the group decided most firmly to not think about it.
Other races went much the same as the first had gone, with the group cooperating to win. Admittedly, not all the races were the standard 'clear the course first' that Jak and the crew were used to. There were also the 'Death Races', which were also based on racers' scores, as determined by the number of other cars they scrapped. Jak had been nervous about such a race at first, until he learned that the cars were constructed such that - short of catastrophic systems failure (which happened with distressing frequency) - the driver could be recovered and the car rebuilt even after being totaled. The Death Races also proved easy for Jak and Shining, as they weren't above spot-shielding against incoming weaponry.
The event that caused greatest concern early on was the qualifying race in the Deathdrome. Since only those racers who performed to an exacting standard passed such courses, to move on to the Grand Prix. As Jak prepared his racer for the event, the reporter from before approached again. "Oh no," Daxter groaned as he saw him. "Here comes ol' tin grin himself."
"You newbies are finally going to see what I've been talking about all along," the sharply dressed reporter spoke up as he approached. "What makes this the most watched sport in the world!"
"The fact that it's the only one televised?" Jak responded jokingly, earning himself a glare from the reporter.
The reporter continued his speech to the cameras, but Jak ignored it, focusing instead on being ready for the race itself. The group already had a strategy in place. Since Jak was the best racer, it was their intention to once again race as a unit to ensure Jak had the best possible results to guarantee his progress. Listening to a blowhard reporter prattle wasn't on the checklist of things to do.
With their strategy practiced and laid out, the group was able to continue to overcome each racing challenge as it approached, claiming the top four slots in each race they competed in as a group repeatedly. After one particular race, however, Jak had an opportunity to meet up with the one who had ordered the attack on him when he'd entered the city. Towards the end of maintaining the image he was building and the end goals of their presence here, he approached the meeting rather aggressively.
As he approached the blue-haired man dressed in red, he strutted in smugly. "Next time you and your thugs want to pick a fight," he challenged, "bring more backup. That last scuffle was barely a warm up."
"Ah," the man greeted as he hid his surprise. "Your reputation proceeds you, Jak. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Razor, maybe you've heard of me?"
"Can't say I have," Jak responded gruffly. "But then again, I rarely pay attention to first level bully boys."
Razor's jaw pulled back briefly into a snarl, but he quickly schooled his features. "I work for Meezo. Eventually, everyone does."
That's one name to keep an eye out for, Jak thought to himself, mentally cataloging the first name of the massive criminal empire they were here to take down. "Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" he asked aloud.
"You're showing my boys up on the track out there, you know," Razor murmured softly. "You should stop, before I have to put my goggles on and show you how its done. You wouldn't live long enough to see me cross the finish line."
Jak blinked softly. "I'm sorry...were you trying to be intimidating there? Because I'm just not seeing it. You sound like a noble complaining because the professional soldier deigned to get dirt on his nice, clean floors...when he's holding a blood stained sword." Jak lunged in, stopping millimeters from Razor's face as he pulled his sword out of its sheath, pouring his own Eco into the blade. "My sword has plenty of blood on it. One more won't make a difference. If you have a problem with what I do on the track, then meet me out there. Otherwise, run back to Mama Meezo so he can change your diaper for you."
Razor stepped back quickly, having not expected a direct physical confrontation. "Now now, Jak, there's no need for that. We'll race soon enough. But in the meantime-"
"Watch your back?" Daxter asked tauntingly as he used his Eco paw-blade to cut the back of Razor's jacket to ribbons. "Yeah, that's my job."
Razor visibly jumped, but quickly regained his composure. "Hmph! Such cooperation is not in the spirit of this sport," he snapped waspishly.
"We don't care," Shining spoke up from behind him, his horn sparking. "We've done things our own way from day one, and we see no reason to change that just because a bunch of people we already don't like get into a tizzy over it."
"You will make a great many enemies with that attitude," Razor pointed out, attempting to regain his polished, urbane attitude.
"We've had a lot of enemies over the years," Jak commented dryly, polishing the blade of his sword. "Some of them even managed to be intimidating for a few hours. I don't have high hopes for this bunch." He grinned widely. "But if you and yours want to pick a fight with me and mine, then by all means..." His eyes glowed with his Eco as the sword flared. "Entertain me."
Razor staggered back, then promptly fled.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Jak burst into laughter. "Okay, acting like a stone-cold badass is gonna be fun!"