This fic is a request from my dear buddy who really needs to get back to writing, DaMastah101. Sorry I took so long, buddy! Hope you enjoy.
Hwoarang was a simple man who enjoyed simple things in life: the rush of street fighting, the thrill of tearing up the freeway on a motorcycle, and even hitting it up the ladies every once in a while. He was a guy who enjoyed life, but more importantly... freedom. For a young hothead in his 20s, responsibility was a word that didn't quite process in his mental dictionary and that was possibly due to not having any parents and being forced to train under a total dick whom he relished in the opportunity to rebel against. Due to the circumstances in life that had ultimately led him to this point, Hwoarang had become content with the way things were. He accepted that he had to live with Master Baek and be pushed every day. He accepted that he had a dishonorable discharge from the Korean military on his permanent record. And most of all, he accepted that life was shit and there was only one cure...
"WOOOOOHOOOOOO!" Hwoarang whooped as he sped down the street, popping a wheelie and engulfing the area with a thick cloud of smoke. The nearby on-goers didn't appreciate it too much, as they shouted curses in between their coughing and flailing arms. Hwoarang's only response was to flip them off as he sped past them with a smug grin. He didn't give a shit who he pissed off; he was living life to the brink, and those tools weren't gonna hold him back. Life was an open road, and he was going full throttle!
After a good pleasant drive and making plenty of new "friends" along the way, Hwoarang was feeling nice and fired up inside, like a smoldering hot muffler. As his blood boiled inside his body, he felt the urge like never before: he wanted to beat somebody's ass.
Hwoarang parked his bike outside a local biker bar and stopped to breathe in the cool evening air. After a few deep breaths, his eyes opened with a fire coursing through them like never before. He was a whore; a whore who lusted for the sensation of putting a foot in someone's jaw. It wouldn't be hard to start shit here, as this was one of the most violent bars in the area and Hwoarang had already established quite a notorious reputation already.
"Now then... how should I do this? Oooh, nice bikes..." Hwoarang muttered with a grin. He looked next to his hawg and saw a long line of custom-made low to the ground mean machines parked in perfect symmetry. Hwoarang stopped for a moment and admired them all, letting out a whistle as he scanned them from muffler to handlebars.
"Yeeeeah those are freakin nice! God forgive me for the ultimate sin I'm about to commit, heh heh..."
Looking both ways, Hwoarang approached the one on the far left. With a deep breath and a count to three, Hwoarang dropped the final snowflake that would unleash the avalanche of violence.
"HAAAAAH!"
With a booming kiai, Hwoarang threw a side kick that toppled the bike in once blow. The bike fell onto the next one, which fell onto the next one, and the domino effect was in full motion. One by one all of the bikes toppled with a loud CRASH! until there was only one left. It had tilted slightly, but didn't fall all of the way.
"Aw... missed it by one point..." Hwoarang pouted. With a grin, he approached the last bike and threw a spinning roundhouse kick that finished the job. The bike hit the dirt with a huge cloud of dust, followed by a crash and a breaking of glass (the headlight). NOW the job was done. All that was left now... was to wait.
"Aaaaaany minute now..." Hwoarang muttered as he tapped his foot impatiently. He put his hand to his ear and listened in anticipation. There it was... the thunderous footsteps.
The door swung open and out poured a torrent of mean looking Korean guys with vests and bandannas. Most had scary tattoos plastered on their arms and some on the face even. One thing was certain: THEY. WERE. PISSED.
"There! It was that motherf***er right there!" one of them pointed. All at once, their faces fixated on Hwoarang's. Hwoarang couldn't have been more thrilled.
One of the men stepped forward. He was a big, mean looking man with a shaved head and a tiny soul patch. He was wearing sunglasses, but Hwoarang could only imagine the fury in the eyes that lie underneath.
"Yo, you got some kind of beef with us, motherf***er?" he asked in a blunt voice. He wasn't really yelling; ironically, his voice was completely calm.
"Nah, I just think your machines are tacky. Cheap headlights, too." Hwoarang said with a grin.
The man's face didn't change at all; he simply knelt down and picked up the broken headlight, not taking his eyes away from it or saying a word for a full minute. Finally, after having a moment of silence for his fallen headlight, the man rose back to his feet and approached Hwoarang.
"You know kid, I can't imagine how cocky you must be to think you can take all of us in a fight."
Hwoarang scoffed and took his hands out of his pockets. "Psssh... bitch, I've fought in the King of Iron Fist Tournament. You are your little butt queers with their girly bandannas ain't got SHIT ON ME!"
The man's face again didn't change, but Hwoarang knew he was ready for combat when he took off his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. Hwoarang looked into the man's eyes; they weren't furious, but completely cold.
"Ya know, It's no fun when you're not pissed. Is there ANYTHING I can do to piss you off, bro?" Hwoarang asked.
"Kid, I've been on this Earth since before you were even a dirty thought in your daddy's head. I don't let myself get spurred into getting emotional, especially not by young punks like you." the man replied. He tilted his head left and right, cracking his neck thoroughly.
"Oh really? Well what if I do this?"
Before the man even saw it coming, Hwoarang brought his heel crashing into the side of his thigh. The man wasn't fazed by the kick, but there was a loud cracking sound. It sounded very similar to the headlight... the cracking of glass.
The biker man stood in shock for a few seconds, processing the full gravity of what had just happened. In his mind, he silently prayed it wasn't so... but as he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out the contents within, he knew that his greatest fear had come true... his black sunglasses were a broken pile of little black bits in his hand.
"My...my... y-you b-b-broke my..."
Hwoarang's eyes widened as he witnessed the man's face change completely. No longer was he the quiet, stoic badass he initially appeared to be. Now... he kinda looked like a psycho killer.
"KILL THIS MOTHERF***ER!" he barked at the top of his lungs. He reached into his vest and whipped out a switchblade. All of his equally pissed off loyal followers did the same.
"Now we're talking..." Hwoarang whispered, his breathing becoming erratic. His heart pounded in his chest as he clenched his fists and got into stance. This feeling right now... this was what he lived for.
They all rushed him at once, knives headed straight for his chest. With a chuckle, Hwoarang swung his hips and his left leg soared across their faces, toppling four guys with one horizontal arc kick. One man closed in from the side and thrust his hand, but Hwoarang spun around and kicked the knife out of his fingers, then thrust his left foot forward and caught the guy directly on the nose. With perfect balance on one foot, Hwoarang swung that same left leg around and caught two guys on the side of the head with his heel.
"DIEEEE YOU F***ING PRICK!" the broken sunglasses man squealed, singing a much different tune now as he charged forward.
"Hmph. Outta your league..." Hwoarang chuckled as he maintained balance on his right foot and used his left leg to kick the guy hard in his kneecap. His leg buckled as he fell on all fours, his head underneath Hwoarang's elevated leg like he was awaiting to be beheaded. Hwoarang played the role of executioner perfectly as he raised his left leg as high as he could and then brought the heel crashing down onto the downed man's head.
Finally, as all the men were downed, Hwoarang finally put his left foot down and admired his handiwork. He had beaten them all... and he didn't even use both of his feet.
"Guuuh! Agh... arrgh! Y-you..." the broken sunglasses man spat. "J-just you wait, asshole! This isn't the end! We still have... aghhhh..."
Before he could get anymore words out, the man fell unconscious. With a loud yawn, Hwoarang approached his motorcycle and mounted it.
"Whew! Gettin kinda tired... guess I better head on back. Ugh, I hope Baek's asleep..."
Hwoarang knew all too well how intense Baek's wrath could be, but he quickly shook those fearful thoughts out of his head and fired up the ignition. Revving the engine a few times, Hwoarang went full throttle and tore off down the street. Feeling satisfied by the violence he had just inflicted, he made his way home to Baek's dojo.
TO BE CONTINUED