Tekken 3: A Reason to Live

by Shei B. Kroeker

A story about two fighters searching for meaning in their lives

TEKKEN 3 A Reason to Live
A Story About Two Fighters Searching For Meaning in Their Lives

By Sheida Marie Birgani alias, Reimie Sarin

It was a humid Wednesday night in Korea, and the rain wasn't doing much to cool the young street fighter's sweating body. He was in the fight of his life. Never had he met anyone quite like the Japanese youth who stood before him. Both had gotten a pretty good beating from each other, and the Korean was getting the worst of it. He just couldn't believe he was going to lose, but there was no denying the inevitable. He did the only thing he could do: he declared a draw. The Jap smiled mockingly as if to say, "Better luck next time," and then he extended his hand to shake the other's. The broken fighter and his gang left the scene and headed towards Baek Doo San's dojo. On the way there, the young fighter thought over his night's events searching for his battle's flaw.

He had spent the last three hours "on the job" (and his line of work was not what you would normally find a young man of his age doing). He picked fights with anyone who looked like a worthy adversary and made money by gambling with them. He always won—most of the time dishonestly, but he made the most of it. At first, he took joy in the fact that no one could beat him, but every time it was--as the song goes—the same old story; same old song and dance. Either the opposing fighter would fall after about two minutes, or they would forfeit after the first punch. Every now and then, the Korean youth would meet someone who may be able to match up to his stature, but not strong enough to rid him of the re-runs of his previous battles. Then, as if on cue, members of the Mishima Zaibatsu came into town. The teen couldn't believe it! He had heard of the Zaibatsu; the Mishima Financial Empire. Heihachi Mishima, the man also known as The King of Iron Fists, was its head. The boy knew that anyone under Mishima was considered the best of the best and would definitely be resourceful in a fight. He had also heard that Mishima had taken his grandson as a personal student. Wouldn't that be a coincidence? he had thought.

The small group that confronted him was seemingly made up of three adults, a teenager, and a German shepherd dog. He decided to try his luck against these Mishima lackeys. He wasn't surprised to find that this small group knew who he was (he made it a point to be known world-wide as the greatest street fighter ever). It also was no shock to him to see the teenager accept the challenge, wanting to test his chances against the Tae Kwon Do black belt. He himself was a master of the Mishima Style Fighting Karate and bore the unlikely name of Jin Kazama.

"Jin Kazama!" the Korean exclaimed, more delighted than scared. Coincidence indeed, "This should be a hell of an interesting match."
How right he was. It was his best fight, and yet it was his worst. He did not know what he had gotten himself into until it was too late, and calling a draw was all he could do to keep from truly being defeated. However, with his declaration came shame. How could he allow himself to lose focus? Still, he knew, there was no other way to win. Humph, he thought, tell that to Baek, damn it! Guess I got what I wanted.

The street thug departed from his group and went inside the Doo San dojo. He changed out of his street clothes and into his issued uniform, and then he shamefully went to his master who was out of the room. The youth knelt on the floor and hung his head in wait. When Baek returned, he wasn't surprised to see his student waiting for him. The boy had no home to go to so the dojo was the most logical place for him to go after "work." However, he had never seen the young warrior quite like this--he knew; the boy had finally been defeated.

"Did you find what you were looking for, son?" Baek asked calmly.

"It was just a rush, Master," the youth choked, "I had an opponent from the Mishima Zaibatsu. Neither of us won; it was a draw. We seemed evenly matched at first, but I lost my focus. No, it wasn't what I was looking for. All that battle did was empty me out more than I already was. It was just a rush."

"I'm sorry to hear that, son. Here, this came in for you earlier. Your reputation precedes you; it's from a United States Military Base in Florida. It might spark a flame of interest."

The teen took the letter in hand and read it to himself. Then he looked at his master and said, "Sergeant Major Hunter? I've heard of him, too. He fights incognito, so no one has ever seen his face. He's pretty infamous, but what does he want with me?"
"First of all, I know who 'he' is," Baek said as if he knew the secret of this fighter, "I taught 'his' brother. Secondly, just read the rest of it."

He did, and he almost wised he hadn't; "He's challenging me to a fight. Too bad he hasn't heard of my recent failure. He's requested some personal information, too. There's also something in here about martial artists disappearing. That doesn't sound too good." He glanced at his master with slight worry.

"I can take care of myself, son. You concentrate on making me proud to call you my pupil."

"Yes, sir. I will train hard for when I face the sergeant major."

The student awoke the next morning in a disaster; the dojo was completely obliterated. He began searching frantically for his master but to no avail. Instead, he found the message that was sent to him from Hunter. It was burnt in several places, but the address was still legible. He quickly responded to the request and went to mail it off. When he reached the mailbox, he found another letter addressed to him from Heihachi Mishima himself. It was an invitation to the third King of Iron Fists Tournament. With aching muscles and sweat burning his eyes, the youth scavenge what belongings he had left and set off for the alley where he fought Kazama the night before. Don't you worry, Hunter, he thought grimly; you can be the first to feel my wrath!

Twelve hours a day, seven days a week, thought the young boot camp drillmaster, all this training and these slobs haven't learned a thing. I've got one more week to reform these teenage catastrophes, but if these next "activities" don't cut it, then I'm gonna have to take drastic measures.

The soldier walked with authority in front of the five girls; "All right, you maggots!" the sergeant major yelled suddenly, "You have pushed your luck and tested my patience. Perhaps someone could tell me why I was put in this position?"

"Because of your cruel and unusual treatments?" came the smart-alec response.

"How cute," the sergeant scoffed, "You like being cute, don't you? Well, we'll see how cute you feel after today. Lieutenant Rogers has a friend who is a public service man, an he appreciates you volunteering to help clean up the city—and I don't mean your every day paper litter. Lieutenant, if you will, tell these lucky tramps what they get to do."

The sergeant major stepped away from the girls as the lieutenant explained their task to them. He seemed to have all but one girl's attention. The drillmaster caught sight of her and immediately interrupted Rogers.

"Miss Sams, might I inquire as to what is more important than paying attention to the lieutenant?"

"I'm protecting my nails," she answered wryly, "um, Sergeant Major Hunter."

"Awe," Hunter said sarcastically, "Did you hear that, Lieutenant? Is there some way you could help Miss Sams protect those beautiful nails? God forbid any should break!"

"I would be glad to oblige, "Rogers said, pulling a pair of travel-sized scissors from his pocket, "Corporal, a small zip-lock, please. Now, Miss Sams, hold still. This won't take long."

The girl became terrified and tried to pull away from the two drillmasters, but it was futile. Hunter held the girl in place, and the corporal held the bag under the girl's hands while Rogers snipped away. The Sams girl cried out furiously as each perfectly manicured nail fell off her fingers and into the bag. When he was done, Rogers handed the bag to Hunter who then held it in front of the upset teen's face.

"Feel better, Miss Sams?" Hunter taunted, "Now you have nothing to worry about. Corporal, take this to Miss Sams's locker so she can get them back after learning her lesson. Thank you. Maggots! Attention! You have your orders, and you have all day to complete them, because that's how long it will take. Left face! For—"

"Sergeant Major!" the corporal returned and stood at attention, "General Keisy requests a word with you. He says it's urgent."

"At ease, soldier. Lieutenant, take charge. Maggots, forward, march!"

Hunter wasted no time getting to the general's office. Upon arrival, the sergeant major found a file folder stamped, "Confidential: Sgt. Maj. B. Hunter's Eyes Only." The folder's tab was labeled "Korea," so the soldier examined its contents.

"Don't worry, sarge, that's all of it" the general said suddenly, "Everything you requested about the famed street fighter from Korea is right there."

"I see that, sir," Hunter said softly, "but I'm concerned about what he wrote here on his profile. Looks like someone has already beaten him, and that makes him useless. I've wasted my time on him."

"Don't be naïve, Hunter," Keisy said, "If you would pay more attention and loosen up instead of drag every situation down to its lowest point, you'll find your fighter called it a draw. Neither of them won, therefore he was never defeated. You know, that's why you lead our reforming program, Hunter, because you're like a machine, an android that doesn't care, nor do you reason. And you've been like that ever since the peace mission to the Middle East. I do hope someone can change that for you one day. Now, read. It was a tie. Of course had that fight taken place here in Florida, the boy would have demanded a recount. Ha, ha, ha! Get it? A damned recount! Woo, I slay myself."

"Yes, sir," Hunter replied mildly, "very funny. Hmm, a tie? He must have been desperate. What's this? The King of Iron Fists Three? Maybe, I haven't wasted my time. He may be able to help me find Daniel."

Keisy looked at his subordinate with pity, "Hunter, it has been almost a full year. Your brother was considered dead after six months of being MIA. The peace trip to Middle Asia did a number on many of our soldiers. It's a lost cause, my friend. You can't find that which no longer exists."

"Sir, may I take a three-month leave?" Hunter asked strongly as if the general's words were speaking to deaf ears.

"In the middle of a reform? I don't know, Hunter."

"Lt. Rogers seems to have a handle on things. Those girls won't give him any trouble. Besides, I think I've earned a leave, don't you?"

"Well, you do deserve it, and I kind of liked the way Rogers handled Miss Sams earlier. However, you're sill the drillmaster, Sergeant Major. Tell you what: you finish your last week with these juvenile delinquents, and you'll have all expenses paid to--"

"Korea and Japan, if that's okay."

"Ahem!"

Hunter snapped to attention at the realization of the severe offense made to a superior officer, "Sorry, sir! Permission to speak freely, sir!"

"Denied, Hunter! I sure as hell am glad that was your first offense, otherwise I'd be forced to deny your leave. Okay, a three-month leave all expenses paid to Korea and Japan. Now, out of curiosity, why Japan? Daniel was lost in Tehran—not that you would find him."
"For the tournament, and this street punk would make a great sparring partner if he's everything people say he is. I really believe he's the key to finding Daniel."

Keisy scowled, but decided not to touch the subject, "Okay, why him?"

"He was trained by the same man who taught Daniel. You could say we have a little family history."

Hwoarang waited patiently for the arrival of the famous Sergeant Major Bobby Hunter in the same alley where he had fought Jin Kazama several weeks earlier. He felt a strong fire within him that he hadn't felt in a long time, and he wished Baek could be there to watch him snag his greatest victory. One thing was for certain: he was not gong to make the same mistake he made with Kazama. He would not lose his focus. Squealing motorcycle tires broke his thoughts, and a sharp black Harley pulled up in the alley where Hwoarang and two other members of his gang were waiting. The driver, who was in a long, slimming trench coat, got off casually and walked towards the edge of the group.

"Which one of you is Hwoarang?" the biker demanded.

"That would be me," Hwoarang answered, "and you must be the elusive Hunter."

"I be," the other replied, removing the bike helmet.

Hwoarang wasn't sure, but he thought Hunter's voice sounded a bit feminine for a street fighter. Beneath his helmet, Hunter wore a face warmer to hide his appearance. Hwoarang knew all the stories about this brawler; no one's seen his face, no one's beaten him, and no one knows his fighting technique. There must be something extremely special about this guy that h has to hide his face. Hwoarang didn't like being left in the dark about whose face he was smashing, so he decided to talk Hunter into removing his mask.

"Can I get you to come out of the safety of your shadow and fight me mono-e-mono? You can't possibly enjoy a fight in the dark."

"Humph," Hunter chuckled, "Contrary to popular belief, I enjoy it very much...but very well, if that's the way you want it. Of course it won't change the outcome of this fight."

Hunter reached for the top of his hood and slowly pulled it off as Hwoarang watched with satisfaction. He was taken aback to see not a man, but a woman—a young girl who appeared to be no older than himself to be exact—beneath the face warmer. She had three distinctive scars on her face: one down her right eye, one down the right corner of her lip, and an X-shape on her left cheek. Her wavy, black hair flowed smoothly to the middle of her back, and her dark blue eyes made sharp contact with Hwoarang's brown. She threw the trench coat off revealing her army fatigues. Her jacket was fully opened, and beneath it she wore an army-brown sports top, which aided in showing off four other rather large scars on her midsection. Hwoarang watched her unblinking as she removed that jacket as well, exposing fourteen total scars on her arms and a set of claw marks on her lower back. She stood up straight—at a height of five feet and seven inches—as she applied her hand guards. Hwoarang was dumbstruck. He examined her like a child eyeing a new toy. She's actually quite beautiful, he thought, and she gives a new meaning to "scar-face."

The girl faced him and said, "Surprised?"

"You're Hunter?" he asked in shock.

"Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter," she introduced, "and I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Pleasure's all mine, I think."

Hwoarang was skeptical about this visitor. He wasn't sure if this was the real Sgt, Maj. Hunter; then again, no one ever really said whether Hunter was a man or woman. He still wanted to fight, but he had already lost focus.
The sight of a large group of rival gang members diverted his attention. They came up slowly behind Hunter—clearly mistaking her for part of Hwoarang's group—with crowbars and bike chains in hand. Hwoarang wasn't expecting them to show up, so he didn't bring his whole gang. They were out numbered five to one. Hunter stood unmoving until one of the thugs came charging behind her with his crowbar raised. At the last minute, she turned and caught the bar in mid-swing without trying, and she swung it like a baseball bat into the thug's stomach. As he fell, the rest of his gang attacked as a group. Hwoarang watch in pleasure and slight fear as Hunter single handedly defeated the other fourteen juveniles. He laughed at himself and thought, I don't stand a chance unless these guys tire her out. When the last man fell, Bobbie Hunter faced a perplexed fighter and two petrified chickens.

"I hope you have more to offer than these weaklings," she said without expression, "What? You scared?"

"Not on your life," Hwoarang answered, now offended, "It's just that you're not what I expected. Nor have I ever been challenged by a girl before. Why me anyway?"

"If you can beat me, I'll tell you why," Hunter scoffed, "and if you can't, then you won't need to know. Let's go."

Hwoarang threw up his hands in protest, "Hold on a second. I have a better idea."

"You're backing out on me?"

"No...well, yes, but that's not the point. And I'm not exactly backing out; I'm delaying. The KOIF is in two months, and I figure it would be more interesting to fight you there."

"That's an original excuse. You would have been better off saying you were scared. However, I was planning to go to the tournament anyway. I'm searching for my brother, and he's a sucker for martial arts tournaments."

Hwoarang fell silent for a while. He found himself staring at her for the longest time, and because he was so quiet, he feared he was drooling. He came to his senses when he remembered something Baek told him.

"Oh," he said finally, "you wanted to fight me so you could see Baek."

"That's putting it bluntly," Hunter sneered, "but it's a little more complicated than that."

"Okay then, you can fill me in, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Sorry to hear about Baek," Bobbie Hunter said, not sounding the least bit sympathetic.

"Well, you were a little late with your warning," Hwoarang shot back mimicking her voice tone, "You're a little uptight, you know. I heard how military life can harden some hearts, but they just don't get much worse than you, obviously. You should get out more, I mean, like what's with that weird mechanical voice? Oh, and that attitude needs a tuning—" he stopped and thought for a moment, I guess I'm one to be talking. He shrugged and continued, "—You're like a living body without a soul, Hunter."

Hunter raised an eyebrow and spoke coldly, "Like I never heard that one before...and if it makes you feel better, you can call me Bobbie."

"Uh, no, not really, but it's a start. You'll have to do better than that to shut me up."

" Ntch What more can I possibly do?" Bobbie snapped, "I've told you why I've come plus more! And it's not enough? Don't press your luck with me, Korea, I've had long and stressing month!"

Bobbie was angry. She couldn't remember the last time she was so mad, but for the first time, she actually felt guilty about it. Hwoarang was able to shrug off the verbal assault and recline in his seat, propping his feet up on the table. That kind of made Bobbie feel about two inches tall.

"Look," she said more calmly but still without expression, "I'm sorry. I just feel like no one knows or gives a damn about what I'm going through. I lost my family in some pretty bizarre ways, and my brother was the only person I had. In a way, it was as if my life were taken as well. Puh, I don't even know why I'm telling you that. You probably don't know how hard it is for me anyway."

"Wrong, babe," Hwoarang said lazily as he stared at the clouds, "I know almost exactly how you feel. Baek and the dojo was everything I had, and I lost them both over night."

He rose from his seat and threw some money on the table. Bobbie jumped up and followed him, and they left the small cafe. Hwoarang led the way back to what remained of the Doo San Dojo. The building was only half standing now, and the debris made it hard to walk across the floor. There were some spots where it looked like someone was digging.

"Looks like you've got looters," Bobbie said.

"I'm not surprised. It's been at least a week or so since I last came by here. It doesn't really matter; there's nothing of any real value here anymore. All of my master's trophies and medals were destroyed, too. I only came back by today to see if I can find anymore of my clothes."

Bobbie shrugged complacently and decided she might find clues to Daniel's whereabouts if she helped out a little. She walked into an adjacent room where it appeared most of the action took place. As she scanned the room, a white cloth in the corner caught her eye, and she ran to check it out. It had Korean letters on it, and Bobbie assumed it was just some piece of tapestry. She translated the letters to simply spell out "Baek"—she was fluent in several languages both ancient and current—then she thought otherwise.

"Hey, Korea," she called to Hwoarang.

"Please stop calling me that," he said as he came in.

"Sorry," Bobbie retorted, "but I find it less strenuous than saying 'Hwoarang.' Now, what do you make of this?"

Hwoarang took the cloth in hand; "It's a piece of Baek's gi. So what?"

Bobbie didn't seem to hear him. She began digging through the debris viciously until she couldn't go any further. Beneath all the rubble she found what used to be a bed with the mattress literally turned inside out. On the wall there was a large symbol that looked like it was put there with a branding iron. Bobbie ran her fingers across it and smiled. Clue number one, she thought.

"What is that?" Hwoarang asked.

"Aztec hieroglyphics," Bobbie answered, "a rare dialect. All it says is 'Lord of the Earth.' I guess it pays to have had an archeologist as a grandfather. Hey, what's wrong with you?"

Hwoarang was sitting with his head hung down as if in sorrow.

"Have you ever heard of the God of Fighting?" he asked her bluntly.

"I'm a military officer, not a scholar," she answered, "I don't study myths."

"He's no myth. He's known as Ogre, and many say he's behind the disappearances. He feeds off the souls of the greatest fighters to make himself stronger. Yeah, only he could do this, and that little signature proves it. Baek was like a father to me. I was orphaned as a child with no memory of my parents, my past, or even my real name. Now tell me that's not a bizarre way to lose a family. Baek took me on as a student during your brother's last month with him. He was the only person I cared for more than myself "

"Ogre, huh?" Bobbie said, "Now that name I am familiar with. You believe this guy's a god?"

"That's not what I was implying. I was simply saying that he has enough power to nuke half the world in a single breath, and he gets stronger everyday with each person who goes missing."

"Fine time for you to mention that now, isn't it? How many do you suspect disappear in one day?"

"I don't know. About ten on average, I guess, but it varies from day to day."

Bobbie shook her head. As a soldier in a foreign army, she was in no authority to question this boy. However, she was also an experienced hacker on her own time and constantly thumbed her nose in other governments' businesses. That's how she knew about Ogre in the first place. General Keisy was the only other person who knew about her pastime, and she knew that that was the real reason he let her go on leave. Keisy knew if he didn't grant her leave, she'd go AWOL and erase her name from all government files. Though it was a childish thing, he didn't want that on the count she was a close friend of his. Bobbie decided to report in and update her success, but Keisy was a step ahead of her.

"Hunter," the general's voice was clear as crystal even though they were on cell phones across seas, "I want a full report on your trip. I know you've only been there a few hours, but with the lead given to you from the quarry, you should've found him by now."

"Yes, General," she said, "I was just about to call you. I haven't got much, but it appears that I've found out what's causing the disappearances."

"Disappearances? What the hell are you talking about, woman? Oh, and never mind the protocol; I'm off duty."

"Just look at some of Heihachi Mishima's notes I hacked from the Zaibatsu mainframe. They're in your top drawer. I don't have time to explain how they got there--not that I really know. Also, Little Korea and I found verifications of a soul-eater. Now I haven't told Hwoarang yet, but according to those files, the Zaibatsu is trying to capture the creature for some odd reason and—"

"Bobbie," Keisy butted in, "I'm not sayin' you're on a wild goose chase with that theory, but I thought I let you go on leave so you could try and find Daniel—which is pointless anyway—not do a damned police investigation on some ancient Houdini."

"But, Scott! Baek was my only hope with that; he's gone, too! And what if the theory's true? My feelings tell me—"

"Bob, don't contradict me. So what if it's true? That's not what you're there to check on. Besides, in the army, you don't rely on that damned 'woman's intuition,' you rely on gut. Play it by the book, soldier, or you're goin' to get washed up."

"I didn't know there was a difference, Scott, but you're the boss. What do you suggest I do? If it doesn't pertain to the tourney, then I'll hack so far in the U. S. computer system, they won't even believe it's Monday over there."

"Look, I don't understand your vague reasons, but if you want to do this like a detective, you're gonna have to work with one. You know who I mean."

"Yeah, it means I'm goin' to China."

"Very good. I don't like the idea of you dragging your street punk along, and I'd advise you to leave him behind. However, I dislike even more the news about Baek; he can travel with you as long as he doesn't do anything to shame us. Hong Kong is your destination, and I want you to contact me as soon as possible when you get there. Oh, and Bob, if all goes well in China, your Japan expenses will be increased. Got it?"

"Yes, of course. We'll leave right away. Over and out."

Hwoarang walked up beside her as she hung up her phone. "Boyfriend?" he asked hopelessly.

"Boss," she answered, "You like flying?"

Hong Kong was an extremely busy city. All of the neon signs and bright lights bedazzled Hwoarang, but watching Bobbie's every move was even more hypnotizing. He still didn't fully understand his current predicament; one minute he's making money off the streets, and the next he's traveling the world with a beautiful girl. Bobbie was no longer in her fatigues, but instead she wore boot-cut blue jeans, white Nike sneakers and a skin-tight tank top with her name stitched in white on the top left side. Above her name, Hwoarang noticed, were the initials J. B. C. and below that read Drillmaster/Sergeant Major.

"Sergeant Major," Hwoarang said, succeeding at starting a conversation, "Didn't know someone as young-looking as you could rank so high. How old are you, anyway?"

"Nineteen, same as you," Bobbie answered, "and there's a lot you don't know about me, hon."

"Indulge me."

"I can't tell you much, because then I'd have to kill you. Forgive the mafia expression, but my boss can get into trouble if I tell you how I got my title. I can tell you some stuff, like my fight style. My brother created a unique form of fighting that combined the arts of jujitsu, tae kwon do, and the mastery of illusions. As you might have noticed earlier, there's even a slight hint of baseball—Daniel's favorite sport—involved. He called it Phantom War, and he was a master. I was his first student. Once I mastered Phantom War, he began teaching whole classes with me at his side. The truth is, you don't really stand a chance against me with your simple Tae Kwon Do. You'd have lost more miserably than when you fought Kazama."

"Me? Beaten by a girl? Not in a million years."

"And yet you are not willing to prove it? There's a Marshall Law-supported dojo a mile from the Hong Kong police station, if you think you can take me."

"Please. I wouldn't be found dead one mile from one of Law's dojos."

"Oh, sounds like someone holds a grudge—or it's just another excuse. We don't have time to play anyway. Here's the station."

They walked to the front desk to ask for Detective Lei Wulong.

"Let me find out if the lady speaks English," Bobbie told Hwoarang, and he listened in amazement as she spoke perfect Cantonese, "Wu ān. Nín húi jiang ying yu ma?"

"Dui bú qi, wo jiang," The lady replied.

"She doesn't," Bobbie translated, "Give me a minute, 'kay?"

Hwoarang nodded. His head hurt listening to the girls talk, and he was relieved when they stopped.

"Wulong's in an interrogation right now," Bobbie told him as they walked to the waiting room, "I'd say my friend the general has already set our appointment. We've been expected."

Hwoarang felt nervous being inside of a police station. You just can't be a street thug and friends with the law at the same time. He was dressed in his street clothes, and that caused a lot of the officers coming in and out to stare. He tried to ease himself a little by trying to start a conversation with Bobbie, but he was too tense. Baek's words were echoing in his ears as he remembered his master's words. He had said maybe the Sergeant Major's telegram would spark a flame within him, and what a fire it lit! All he'd been looking for in his life was a reason to live. I've got to be trippin' on some kind of crazy funk to actually believe this twist of fate, he thought, but what if this isn't fate? What if she's really heaven-sent? He tried to force himself to forget about it, but the harder he tried, the uneasier he felt. He felt Bobbie lock her fingers with his. For some reason he felt calmer.

"Relax, Korea," she said, "Hong Kong can't do nothing to you unless you do something against them. Even so, Detective Wulong would vouch for you as long as you're with me. We go back a long way."

Hwoarang felt better, and when Bobbie removed her hand, he grabbed it back. She looked at him in shock as a he let a grin creep across his face. He had a sense of comfort with her hand in his, and he wanted it no other way. A few minutes later, the station secretary came out.

"Bobbie Hunter?" she managed in strangled English, and then she spoke in Cantonese.

Bobbie stood and translated, "The detective will see us now. C'mon."

They followed the woman to a large office where a tall man in blue jeans and a white T-shirt was leaning on his desk.

"Wu ān, Bobbie," he greeted in Cantonese.

"Wu ān," Bobbie responded, "Lei, zhé shí Hwoarang."

Detective Wulong pointed at the Korean youth and, with a chuckle, said, "Mah fahn yaou?"

Bobbie frowned and spoke to Wulong in English, "That was uncalled for, Lei."

"Sorry," Lei said in almost perfect English, "but if you knew all the hell I've been through these past few months, you'd understand. With the Mishima Zaibatsu 'recruiting' our youth for their group, it's hard to tell the good kids from the bad kids."

"That's no excuse to call Hwoarang a troublemaker. He's accompanying me to Japan for the tournament."

"Troublemaker?" Hwoarang echoed angrily, "If it's trouble you want, damnit, you picked the wrong person to start it with!"

"Ahem!" Bobbie said attracting Hwoarang's attention. Her eyes pleaded with him not to go off like that again.

Lei reverted back to Cantonese to speak to Bobbie personally and leave the hot-tempered teen out of it. However, Lei couldn't mask his murmur of mah fahn yaou. Hwoarang especially didn't like the way the guy made Bobbie laugh, and again he was glad the conversation returned to English.

"Anyway," Lei said, "my good friend Scott tells me you're officially on the case of the disappearing martial arts masters. He wanted me to inform you that you are not to use any military tactics here. In Hong Kong, our officers reign supreme."

"I guess that's what I get for being second on Scott's 'Best Friends' list," Bobbie said dully.

"Yes, well, our best lead is the creature known as—"

"Ogre." Hwoarang finished.

"Ah, mah fahn yaou is smart," the remark made Hwoarang growl, " Down, boy. It was just a joke. Yes, Ogre. In fact, he's such good evidence that I've decided to enter the tournament myself. Heihachi is confident the beast will make an appearance. Claims he wants to 'rid us of this abomination.'"

"Would you like some company . . .," Bobbie grinned, "…partner?"

Suggested by Lei, Bobbie decided they shouldn't leave for Japan just yet; after all, the tournament was still two months away. Instead, she and Hwoarang volunteered to help the Hong Kong police retake control of their city. Bobbie took on the role of the rookie cop so she could get used to being ordered around by an otherwise inferior officer. Hwoarang, preferring the streets, played the brave yet meddling vigilante. Only Lei knew who they really were, so he took the liberty of keeping them out of trouble and acquiring an apartment for them. It was a petty decent place, considering the two who would reside there. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living room—pretty roomy for an apartment. After their first day of work, they were glad to catch up on those well-earned z's. This was the first time they'd seen their temporary accommodations.

Bobbie noticed that something was bothering Hwoarang and saw that it had been eating at him all night. She didn't know what to say to start a conversation, so she walked up to him hoping he had something to tell her. She was about to sit down when she realized something. Their street clothes were soiled with mud, oil, and blood, and she was greatly uncomfortable with it.

"I'm going to go change," she said, "I'll be right back."

"Hold on a second," Hwoarang demanded softly with a hint of anger in his voice, "We need to talk. Sit down."

"Korea," she said casually, "I'm filthy. Let me change my clothes, and we can talk later."

He made no response. He turned his back to her and quietly claimed his room. Bobbie was confused. She shrugged complacently and went to the other room. She returned a half hour later to see Hwoarang sitting on the floor with his back to the couch. His arms were rested on his knees, and his head was ducked causing his fiery hair to cover his face. Bobbie sat down beside him Indian style with her back away from the couch. She was wearing fatigue-style pajama pants with a green halter-top, and even through his anger, Hwoarang felt the need to stare. He didn't really change. He had removed his shirt and goggles and washed up a little, and that was it.

"What the hell did Wulong say earlier today that was so funny?" he asked, hanging his head again, "I may not understand Chinese, but I'm very fluent in gossip no matter what forked tongue speaks it. You had better give me a damn good reason not to walk out on this suicide mission of yours."

"Excuse me?" Bobbie scoffed, "Before you go ranting like a fool, you just remember that you wanted to come along. I didn't make you come. You came because you needed a lift to Japan, and I offered. Don't even get off saying I brought you along for my benefit...but if you want a reason to stay, how about your revenge you want so bad?"

Hwoarang rose with Bobbie closely following and said, "And you think that that is all that matters? Had it ever even occurred to you that maybe there was a different reason that I came along in the first place?"

"Hmm, let me think...umm, no," she responded, "but do what you want. I don't really care if you leave. Lei is an old friend, and if I want to laugh at mah-fahn-yaou, then I will. We weren't even talking about you."

"You didn't notice anything?" Hwoarang asked again, moving closer to her.

She began to speak, but before any words came out, he took her face in his hands and gingerly kissed her lips. Bobbie's heart skipped a beat. It was nothing more than a brush of the lips, but it made her yearn for more. Even so, she couldn't help but think, What the hell is he doing? But before she could say anything, Hwoarang covered her mouth again, but this time it was much more. She was hypnotized as she felt his tongue search her mouth, yet at the same time she resented him for it. All in one motion, she pulled away from him, pushed him harshly, and wiped her mouth insultingly. He made no attempt to pull her back.

"What was that all about?" she yelled, "What the hell is wrong with you? If you think a stunt like that is going to make it all better, you're sadly mistaken!"

She turned and rushed to her room angrily. Hwoarang wasn't in his right mind when he made his move, and he wanted to kick himself for it. He was about to go after her and explain when he came to a realization—he was a good kisser, and he smiled in spite of himself.

"She'll be back," he said to himself, "Ah, three . . . two . . . one . . ."

Sure as night becomes day, Bobbie reentered the room and slowly walked within inches of Hwoarang's reach. He stroked her face with one hand and pulled her close with the other as he, for the third time let himself go.

"Ahhh!"

Hwoarang was awakened by Bobbie's blood curdling scream. According to the clock next to his bed, he'd only been asleep for an hour, but he didn't care. He sprang out of his bed and ran to Bobbie's room to check on her. She had insisted she slept in her own room, and he had a feeling he was going to regret letting her do so. He knew that after the events of the night, they're lives would be in danger more than ever if an enemy found out they cared for each other. He heard her scream again.

"Bobbie," he said knocking on the door, "are you all right?"

He tried turning the knob only to find she had locked the door, so he began banging on it furiously.

"Bobbie! Unlock the door!"

"Help!" she yelled back, "I can't move! Hwoarang, get it out of here! Make it go away!"

It? Hwoarang thought, What the hell? Bobbie fell silent all of a sudden, causing Hwoarang to become desperate to get in. He attempted to break down the door, but the only thing he felt breaking was his shoulder. He tried to kick it open, but it was like hitting cement with bare feet. Damn! These doors were meant to last forever! He called her name again only to receive no answer. There was a faint glow coming from beneath Bobbie's door. The young fighter grabbed the largest thing he could carry—the coffee table—to ram the door with. Once he got in, he almost wished he'd stayed out. Bobbie was on her knees. Her head was tilted back-wards, and her eyes were rolled back in their sockets. Her arms were limp at her side, palms up, and held fast to the floor by what appeared to be no more than a shadow. Of course, she was a pleasure to look at compared to what stood before her. It was a bluish, demon-like creature that bore a strong resemblance to Jin Kazama, save for the ugly scar across its chest. It had huge violet-blue wings and weird markings on its forehead, but for the most part, it looked pretty human. From what Hwoarang could make out, it was this creature's shadow that held Bobbie in place. He picked up a lead pipe, which looked like what the creature used to break through the window, and struck the beast in the back. It wasn't phased, but the pipe sure was. The impact to the creature bent the pipe to the formation of the thing's back as seen in many cartoons. Hwoarang looked at the pipe and grinned. So much for that idea, he thought. He dropped the pipe just as the demon turned around and swatted him down, sending him careening into the wall.

"Foolish mortal!" it growled in a baritone voice, "You dare attack me from behind?"

Hwoarang stood and gave it a smirk that said, "You're damn right!" But the creature had decided that Hwoarang was a waste of energy and simply ignored him as he took a fighting stance. Hwoarang watched as the demon put its thumb and forefinger on Bobbie's temples. She appeared to be struggling again, but not much because the shadow that held her had made her too weak to fight it. She was panting heavily as the demon sent what looked like an electric shock through her body.

"DANIEL!" she screamed.

She immediately went quiet again, and Hwoarang began to wonder if the girl had said anything at all. The demon threw a silver chain in front of her making Hwoarang even more curious than he already was. Before he could make a move, it used some strange force to bring Bobbie to her feet. Her hands had been released, but she was still out off it. The demon spoke something in Japanese and then quickly flew out the window. Once it was out of sight, Bobbie fell violently to the floor. Hwoarang walked to the window to make sure it—whatever it was—was out of sight. Being satisfied, he turned and scooped Bobbie up in his arms to carry her to his room, when a reflecting light stopped him in his tracks. Down on the floor where Bobbie had been the whole time lay the silver chain the demon had thrown down, so he knelt and picked it up as well.

Hwoarang lay Bobbie on his bed and covered her. He slouched down on the floor next to the bed, unable to return to sleep, and examined the silver chain. Attached to it was a set of military dog tags. He was astounded to see what was written on them:

U. S. ARMY FLORIDA
MAJOR DANIEL B. HUNTER
J. R. O. T. C. RECRUITING OFFICER
1707 MARQUIS CT.
JUPITER FL 86759; 407-933-0770

Hwoarang doubted that thing in Bobbie's room was Daniel. The description he was given (from the last time Bobbie had seen Daniel) didn't match its features. Daniel's hair stood up in a spider like style much like an animé character. The creature's stood on end like a frightened cat and extremely spiky, almost like Jin's. She had also said that Daniel had no scars or signs of injury because he'd never gotten himself hurt in his whole life—he'd never even sprained an ankle before. The scar across the demon's chest was an obvious point, plus it spoke Japanese. Daniel only spoke English, Persian, Hebrew, and Swahili. I hope you can remember everything in the morning, he thought. He decided he wasn't even going to try and sleep. Instead, he kept a constant vigil on this sleeping angel.

Bobbie awoke with a splitting headache, extreme dizziness, and swollen wrists. None of that, however, kept her from noticing she was in Hwoarang's room. She sat up slowly and opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter a word, horrible images flashed through her mind. They were mixed visions of Daniel, Heihachi, Kazuya Mishima, and the one infamously known as Ogre. None of it made sense, and she couldn't put anything into a clear perspective. The pictures ran like a movie stuck on fast-forward making it hard to piece the mental puzzle together. Hwoarang wasn't in the room with her, so she attempted to stand and go look for him only to find out she'd somehow lost almost all her strength during the night. She sat back down and let her feet hang over the bedside.

"Korea!" she managed just barely above a whisper. Just talking made the room spin around her.

"Yes?" he was in the room faster than she had called him, "Are you okay? Can I get you anything? A drink? Something to eat? Cigarette? What happened last night with that thing in your room? Are you hurt? Anything broken? Is ev—?"

"Just a minute, now," Bobbie cut him off, "Let me answer some of those. I'm fine, I think. A Pepsi and a couple of Tylenol would be nice. I'm not hungry. I don't smoke—and neither should you. As far as last night goes, I probably know less than you do. I've got a huge migraine-type headache, and my wrists are bruised. Other than that, all bones are unharmed and in place . . . um, how about that drink?"
He was gone and back in the blink of an eye with a cold can of Pepsi and some Tylenol, and she accepted them eagerly as he sat next to her on the bed.

"Gahm-sah-hahm-ni-da," she said, unconsciously thanking him in his native tongue.

He looked at her blankly and knew she hadn't realized what she said, so he bade her welcome, "Chon-mahn-eh-yo. Didn't know you spoke Korean."

"Hmm?" she asked perplexed, "Oh. I must not have been thinking when I said that."

"Right. Um, is there anything you remember from last night? Anything at all?"

Bobbie shook her head. Hwoarang seemed to be getting impatient, but he kept it quiet. A small clanking of metal grasped Bobbie's attention, and then she noticed the dog tags around Hwoarang's neck. At first she thought they were hers, but she was still wearing them.

"Where did you get those?" she asked anxiously.

"What? These?" he responded removing the chain, "They're Daniel's, I think. That creature in your room threw them down in front of you before he jumped out the window. Maybe they'll help you remember what happened."
She took the tags in hand and held them close to her heart. The feeling of the cold steel was all she needed to still the visions. She saw Daniel screaming in agony from some unseen force and Kazuya Mishima trying to help him. Heihachi stood there with a smile across his face not doing anything, so Kazuya turned around and attacked him. Hwoarang interrupted Bobbie's thoughts before she could figure it all out.

"Well, anything?"

She kept her head low, as she spoke, "I couldn't get to sleep after what happened earlier, and so I just laid there staring at the ceiling for a good half hour. Confusion had me in its grip. I couldn't make heads or tails of what you did, and I was angry with you for it. No offense."

"None taken," he said. Then he smiled, "But you came back."

She grinned at him mischievously but didn't touch the subject in her story, "Anyway, my thoughts were wondering when I heard a faint scratching at my window. At first I thought it was a stray cat, so I paid it no mind. The longer I ignored it, the louder the sound got. Once it reached the point to where it was as nails on a chalkboard that was it. I got up and pulled the curtains away. Within seconds, I was staring eye to eye with a demonized Kazuya Mishima."

"I knew he had a bit of a resemblance to Jin."

"Bet you didn't know my brother was a close friend of Kazuya's."

"You got me on that one, but if he's who you say he is, why did he have wings?"

Bobbie thought about that for a moment. A short vision appeared before her eyes as she did, and she saw Kazuya attack his father in the KOIF2. Heihachi caught a hold of Kazuya just before he could land the attack and knocked him unconscious. After declaring his victory, Heihachi carried his son out and threw him in a lava pit. Before Kazuya drew his last breath in the fiery furnace, a hideous gargoyle-type demon appeared in font of him. It called itself Devil, and it was Kazuya's last chance to survive.

"He sold his soul to save his life," Bobbie said finally, "His father had intended to kill him, but he made a bargain with the Devil."

"What a dumb ass way to save your hide," Hwoarang inserted.

"Uh-huh. It is pure evil, but it wasn't in complete control of Kazuya's body when it showed up in the night. In fact, I think both entities were in conflict at that time. He didn't come to start trouble. He claimed Heihachi set my brother up and used him as bait for his fist attempt to catch Ogre. I'm not sure how long ago that was, though. I'm assuming it wasn't how my brother disappeared. In fact, I know it wasn't. Danny was only ten then, and he only went missing a couple of months ago. Well, supposedly Kazuya knew it was going to happen and tried to warn Danny, but he never got the chance. And that's all—that's what happened."

"Are you sure?" Hwoarang questioned, "Just before he left, he said something to you in Japanese. It was something like, uh, nune . . . no, non . . . no. Damn it! It was something yori so-whatever."

"Nyune yori soko?" Bobbie tried,

"Yeah, that's it," he confirmed, "What's it mean?"

"It's an old proverb, 'Evidence Over Argument.' I don't understand why he would tell me that. I have a hard enough time understanding him as it is, and he was always speaking to me in riddles that make absolutely no sense. It just doesn't click."
"Maybe it has something to do with the tournament."

"I don't see how."

"Could be that—"

A knock at the door cut him short

"I'll get it," Hwoarang sighed.

"It's probably Lei," Bobbie said

"You can get it"

"Thought so."

Bobbie opened the door to see her temporary boss, like she expected.

"Zao chén hao," Lei said, bidding them good morning.

"Zao chén hao," Bobbie answered, "Little early, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked, "Rookies have to be at the station two hours before the office opens. Except for today, that is. Today, you have to be there three hours early—new officers' test."

"Test? At 6:00 in the morning?"

"Hong Kong regulations. Besides, I like giving orders to an otherwise superior officer."

Oooh, I'm gonna kill Scott, she thought. She smiled sweetly and spoke in Cantonese, "Wo bú xi huán nín."

"Dui bú qi," Lei responded, "See you at the station."

He turned and walked away smiling.

"He's sorry?" Bobbie translated angrily, "I have to take orders from a swamp rat detective, and all he says is he's sorry? Oh, yeah, Scott won't like me when I get back to the States. He's dead meat!"

Hwoarang was laughing. Bobbie shot him a double take, but he wasn't affected.

"What is so damn funny?" she asked.

"You," he answered, "This was your idea, I must remind you, and it looks like you're getting the short end of the stick. What did he say he was sorry for anyway?"

"I told him I hated him."

"Oh, such a lady."

Hwoarang and Bobbie endured the full two months of working with the Hong Kong Police department until it was time to pack for Japan. Hwoarang was never found out by any of the other officers for being tied to Bobbie and Detective Wulong (it was a good thing, too, since his being a vigilante could get them all in trouble with the Chief of Police). He was amazed at how Bobbie had surpassed many of the veteran officers in rank. Within the short two months, she had gone from the butt-of-all-jokes rookie to detective serving as Lei's partner. Had their time been any longer, she would have surpassed him as well. She must be real good at this to do so much in so little time, Hwoarang constantly thought.

The long-awaited day had finally come. Hwoarang was at the apartment and packed four hours before Bobbie was to be off duty, and once she got home she got packed as well. Hwoarang was greatful that he decided to tag along with Bobbie to the tournament. He had suddenly felt the need to protect her, and it became clear to him that Baek knew this was going to happen almost as if he'd set it up himself. The chirping of their room phone startled them both.

"I got it," he said quickly, "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm looking for Bobbie," came the response, "She there?"

"Yeah, who's calling?"

"Scott Keisy."

Hwoarang handed Bobbie the phone and informed her it was her real boss. He listened carefully to her side of the conversation.

"Hi, Scott," she said with angry emphasis, "Been a while. I'm having a great time taking orders from your under-ranked buddy for the past two months . . . Yeah, swell . . . Oh no! I wouldn't even consider that idea again . . . Is that so? . . . I hate you, Scott, I hope you know that . . . Very funny . . . Sure, I'm leaving first thing tomorrow . . . Yes, he is. Claims the case will be solved there . . . Are you coming? It's a public tourney, so an audience is welcome . . . Oh, really? . . . No, no, I understand . . . All right; see you when I get back to the States . . . I don't know, man . . . That's up to him, but I doubt it . . . Not after what we've been through, no, probably not . . . Sure, I'll ask, but don't keep your hopes up . . . Okay, bye."

She slumped sadly on the couch and rested her face in her hands. At first, Hwoarang thought she was crying, but when he sat next to her, she lay across his lap and seemingly fell asleep. He carefully moved himself to a laying position so as not to arouse Bobbie.

"I'm not asleep," she said groggily, yet suddenly, "I can move if you want me to."

"No, that's fine," he assured her, "Are you all right? You look a bit down."

Bobbie sat up straight to speak, but Hwoarang pulled her towards him and let her rest on his chest. He hoped she could tell him what's up before the rhythmic beating of his heart really put her to sleep, but she remained silent for the longest time.

"Hey," he said, "something on your mind?"

"Hmm?" she responded softly, "Oh, it's nothing. Thinking about the tournament. I'm kind of upset Scott won't be there to see me kick your ass—along with the other contenders."

"You, kick my ass?" he laughed, "The jury's still out on that verdict. You and Scott seem to be very close as if he were your brother. What's he to you? An old boyfriend or somethin'?"

"I really don't want to talk about him, Korea, but no, he's not an old boyfriend. Wouldn't date him to save my life—he's thirteen years my senior. He reminds me of Danny more than you know, but he could never replace him. Scott had been looking out for Danny and me after we 'lost' our parents, and that's why it's important to me that he came to watch. He's a good coach and quite the father figure. Kind of like Baek was to you. Since he's got 'previous engagements,' I won't have any support. I'll lose my focus before the first match."

"What am I? Invisible?"

"Well excuse me," Bobbie chuckled, "but I don't think you'll be much help. How often does one get help from their opponents?"

"I don't think you're bein' very fair with that observation."

Bobbie held up a hand to silence him and said, "Don't waste your breath, Korea. You're pretty lousy at emotional support."

Hwoarang was taken aback. He didn't know how to respond to that, much less make sense of his feelings. He took a deep breath and tried to re-collect himself. Hwoarang wasn't the sentimental type, so he didn't feel comfortable about getting all mushy-romantic with flowery words. He opened his mouth to explain himself, but Bobbie leaned up and kissed him, causing him to forget what he was going to say.

"Don't worry about it," she smiled, "I know were you're goin'. I see it in your eyes. Can you handle the trip? Or, do you forget who you travel with?"

Hwoarang said nothing. He just looked at her wide-eyed and confused.

"Do you know what boot camp is like?" Bobbie asked, not willing to wait for him, "Boot camp is like that thing you met that night you were waiting for Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter. It's lonely, cruel, and heartless. Yet, it also was so fulfilling to be there. I was the meanest crazy-ass bitch on the base. There was this one girl during a reform program who was very fond of her hair. I didn't blame her either—who wouldn't be proud of long, silky brown hair? Anyway, during one of the exercises, this girl was fiddling with her hair instead of participating in the reformation. My lieutenant brought it to my attention, and so we decided to be cruel. Lt. Rogers snipped off as much hair as he could with a pair of pocket scissors that he always carried around with him for such occasions. Then we brought her to the base's barber and had him shave off what was left. You should have seen the look on the girl's face when she saw her hair nicely packed in a large zip-lock bag. It was cruel, but it got the job done."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hwoarang asked.

Bobbie looked up at him as if she expected him to know that already, "I don't know," she answered, "Maybe because I've never told anyone how much joy and yet grief I got out off someone else's pain. Not even Scott knows about that. What do you take pleasure in? What makes you happy?"

"Fighting," he replied, "Don't ask why. I don't have a real reason."

She didn't say a thing. She just lay there dragging her forefinger across the long scar that stretched down her right eye. Hwoarang was uncomfortable with the awkward silence that surrounded him, and decided to make conversation.

"Exactly what kind of trouble do you get into to get a mark like that?" he asked, pointing at the two-inch slash.

"I wrote the definition for trouble," Bobbie answered with a tired smile, "and I have lived life with it. Trouble and danger are my companions in this world. These scars tell their own stories, sometimes alone, and sometimes in packs."

"Now you're speaking in riddles. What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said, Korea. For each 'mark,' there is a tale. The first one is simple. I received the one on my eye from Daniel during a spar exercise. He didn't mean to, but when you tamper with magic illusions, someone's liable to get hurt. The others hold longer, more complicated beginnings. . ."

"Rise and shine, Korea," Bobbie said pulling the blankets off Hwoarang, "We got a flight to catch in less than two hours. If we go fast enough, we can meet up with Lei. He's on the same flight."

Bobbie shook Hwoarang until he finally stirred and said, "Bobbie, it's 2:00 in the morning. The sun's not even up. Go back to sleep."
With that, he turned over and firmly held the blankets over his head. Bobbie wasn't giving up that easily, so she climbed on his bed and began jumping on it. She was still young, but she had never felt so alive and childish.

"Wake up, man," she said with laughter, "before the neighbors do. C'mon, get up. I'm gonna keep jumping until you get up."

"How about when you get down?" Hwoarang yelled through the covers.

"Get down? Are you crazy? I'm not gettin' down."

Hwoarang sneakily reached from under the covers and grabbed her ankle, "Oh, yes you are!"

Bobbie went off balance and fell on her back on the bed. Hwoarang then pulled her towards him by the waist and kissed her. She pretended to be struggling with him, but he held her fast.

"All right," he said, "I'm up, but don't expect me to stay awake the whole trip. Let's go."

Bobbie and Hwoarang met up with Lei Wulong at the Hong Kong International Airport thirty minutes before their scheduled take off. They checked in what luggage they carried, but brought no carry-on bags. Bobbie felt excited—a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time. She hadn't been in a world tournament before, so this was a heart-pounding experience. Bobbie was still in denial with what Kazuya had told her two months ago. He had said that Heihachi, his father, had set Daniel up in order to capture Ogre. That's what got Daniel killed—or at least his soul taken away. If it weren't for Kazuya's evil essence and tendencies, Bobbie might not have been so skeptical. She only believed half of it, but that's just not enough. Besides, she thought, he didn't disappear that long ago.
Bobbie and Lei conversed in Chinese all the way to their gate about the past two months. Mah fahn yaou was mentioned several times, and Bobbie had to clarify that it was not directed towards Hwoarang each time it was said.

"Okay," Bobbie declared after about the tenth mah fahn yaou, "this is getting old, Lei. If you don't mind, I prefer we stick to English."

"Fine by me," he responded, "Do you two have enough money for your entry fee?"

"Scott didn't give me any yen," Bobbie said, "but I can exchange my American money for some. I have enough."

"I don't exactly carry international currency with me," Hwoarang said, "I rarely carry Korean Won. Do you have enough for two?"

"Yeah, I should. One dollar equals one hundred and twenty-eight yen. Depending on the fee, I might be able to pay for you."

"Now that that's taken care of," Lei said, "let's get on board."

They boarded quickly, but not fast enough to notice a disturbance in the air. There were two Tekken Force soldiers headed for their gate. They were flashing photographs of Hwoarang, for what, Bobbie didn't know. Maybe it had something to do with his fight with Jin Kazama several months ago. Right now, she didn't care.

"Lei," she whispered, "what do you make of that?"

Lei glanced at the Tekken soldiers long enough to see Hwoarang's photo. He huddled the two teens together close so he wouldn't be heard.

"No questions," he said, "Bobbie, you're my daughter, and you only speak Cantonese. Hwoarang, um, I don't know."

"I'm a big boy," he said with a mischievous smirk, "I'll think of something."

The Force troops walked up to Lei and held the picture in his face. Lei shook his head and said he didn't recognize the youth. Then Bobbie found the photo in her face. She was none too pleased with there being something shoved at her. She fought the urge to reach for it and tear it to shreds.

"Wu ān," she said with a soft smile.

"Do you speak English?" the taller one asked.

Bobbie glanced at Lei in false confusion. He whispered to her in Cantonese, and she made a sound in acknowledgment.
"Cuó wú," she apologized sympathetically.

"What?" the soldier asked.

"I'm sorry," Lei spoke up, purposely straining his accent, "my daughter doesn't speak any English. I assure you, we do not know this young man."

"Mah fahn yaou?" Bobbie asked, pointing at the photo.

She saw Hwoarang try to turn around and give her a double take, but he thought better of it. Lei nodded to her question. The trooper turned towards her again and held up the picture angrily.

"Do you know him?" he asked harshly, "Yes or no?"

"Wo bú míng bái," she said, implying she didn't understand.

"Yes or no! I'm getting impatient. This boy is considered a threat if he crosses to Japan."

"Wo bú míng bái!" Bobbie shouted back.

The soldier grabbed her by her shoulder and shouted again, and again she replied only in Cantonese. She was determined to make them believe she didn't know Hwoarang, but his grip on her was so tight, he was about to break her collarbone. Lei attempted to intervene, but he got pushed to the ground. As he pulled himself up, he reached for his issued side arm and aimed it at the troops. He couldn't get a decent shot because Bobbie was so close to the soldier. The screaming of civilians polluted the atmosphere. Bobbie couldn't stand the pain much longer and dropped to her knees. The soldier angled his weapon at her head just as Lei positioned his own at the assailant's knee. Before he could even fire a warning shot, Hwoarang moved in. Bobbie collapsed to the floor as Hwoarang killed the soldier with his infamous neck-breaker. The second soldier came up behind him, only to be landed by a spinning drop kick to the face. Lei was on his radio requesting back up at Hong Kong International. Shots had been fired as other cops rushed in. They watched as the authorities removed the guy with the broken nose in cuffs and the larger guy out on a gurney.

"That's something you don't see everyday," Hwoarang said, helping Bobbie to her feet.

Bobbie looked at him in annoyance, but she defiantly looked forward to the rest she'd get on the plane.

It had been nearly two hours since the incident at the airport, but Hwoarang was still feeling the fatigue of it all. He was comfortable sitting in first class, yet it wasn't him. Bobbie lay across his lap asleep, and Lei was watching the in-flight movie, a Chinese version of "I Love Lucy." Hwoarang tried desperately to get to sleep, but the pain, mostly in his side, kept him from even closing his eyes. He remembered the sounding of gunfire and screaming in the terminal, and it made his head hurt. He reached down at his side to feel for broken bones. What he discovered was going to change his plans for the tournament. There was a deep incision in his right side, and it was oozing with blood. It had already seeped onto the seat and was streaming towards Bobbie's hair. Lei glanced over at Hwoarang as he squirmed uneasily."What is it?" he asked, "What's wrong?"

Hwoarang felt feint and short of breath, and he couldn't form sound to answer. He shook his head as if it were nothing.

"Are you sure?" Lei persisted, "You look like you're in pain. Let me see."

Hwoarang shook his head again and gave Lei an angry look. Lei wasn't affected. Because of the way they were seated (Lei by the aisle, Bobbie in the middle, and Hwoarang by the window), Lei had to adjust himself before reaching for Hwoarang's wounded side. He made it halfway to the side before an unnaturally bloody hand grabbed his wrist. Lei scowled and was about to protest against the youth's lying, but Hwoarang silenced him.

"Don't wake her up," he managed to say, nodding towards Bobbie, "Just give me something to suppress the bleeding."

"Suppress the bleeding!" Lei was almost yelling, "You need help, man."

"And it's all mental," Hwoarang smarted, "Now, a jacket or shirt or something. Let's not divert any attention."

Lei stared at him fiercely for a while. If looks could kill, consider this cop a first-degree murderer. He violently yanked his hand away from the teen's grasp and tossed a jean jacket to him. Turbulence caused the plan to shudder and Bobbie to stir. She slowly sat up just as Hwoarang placed the jacket over his injury.

"Cold?" she asked sleepily.

"Something like that," he whispered.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your First Officer speaking. The captain has informed me that we have been cleared for landing at the Japanese International Airport. If you would, please return all seats and tray tables to their full, up right, and locked positions. Be sure all carry-on items are safely secure in the over-head compartments or in the open space beneath the seat in front of you. We ask that all electronic devices be turned off and properly stored at this time. We also ask that, prior to landing, you remain seated with your seatbelt securely fastened until the aircraft has come to a full and complete stop and the seatbelt sign is finally tuned off. Use caution when opening the over-head bins, where contents may have shifted during flight. On behalf of Delta Airlines, we hope you have enjoyed your stay with us this evening on flight 1513. Should your plans again call for air travel, we hope you will once again choose Delta International Airlines."

This message was repeated in four other languages before they landed. Once they had, Hwoarang made sure Bobbie walked in front of him and Lei behind him. His skin had tuned deathly pale, and his mouth became dry and bitter, so much so that the only moisture he felt was the blood flooding around his tongue. The sound around him became distorted, as did his vision, and the whole place began to spin about him. Suddenly, the floor came rushing up to him, and he hit it hard. The last thing he heard before the shroud of darkness fell was Bobbie screaming his name and his heart beat fading.

"Why didn't he say something?" Bobbie asked Lei as she furiously paced the visitor's lobby of the hospital, "Why didn't you say something?"

"Well, I—" Lei began.

"You know what?" she cut him off sharply, "Don't speak. I don't want to hear your excuses, Detective. Since we're no longer in Hong Kong, I'm pulling rank. No more playing 'keep away.' You know, in America, people get in trouble with the law for withholding information. Be blest you don't live over there."

"Miece Hoontar?" a nurse said in strained English.

"Yes?" Bobbie acknowledged harshly.

"You speck Japennies?"

"No," she lied in the same tone.

"I speck vety leetle Engliss, okeh?"

"I understand. How is he? Can I see him?"

"No, no, can't see. He no good, but no bad. He live, yes. He fight, no."

"Fight? What's that got to do with it?"

"You come for tournament, yes?"

Great, Bobbie thought, Hwoarang won't like this. Ah! Who cares? He brought this on himself. She dropped into the seat next to Lei and picked up a magazine.

"The tourney's in two weeks," she said from behind the cover, "Will he not recover by then?"

"Recoovah? Yes, from goon shoot, no surj'ry. Need to rehmove bullet."

"When can I see him?"

"Toomurrow at seeks o'cluck, peh emm."

"Let's go."

Bobbie rose from her seat, with Lei following, and stomped out the door. They walked out to the car they rented, and Lei opened the passenger side door for her. She didn't even slow down, much less stop. Instead, she yanked the keys from him and marched to the driver's side. She left no room for argument when she pulled rank, so he calmly sat in the seat and waited to leave.

Bobbie's spirit was lifted a little when she remembered the vehicle was a stick shift. She turned on the ignition, revved up the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot. She was angry. It obviously wasn't bad enough in Hwoarang's eyes that the Tekken Force was after him, and now he wants to lose Bobbie's trust like that?

"There's just no reason to live anymore," she mumbled.

"Did you say something?" Lei asked.

Bobbie ignored him and relaxed in her seat as she drove. Even so, she had ceased to be human and became the hardened, emotionless android drillmaster she had been before she had arrived in Korea. She thought about the tournament and how she was going to win. There was an attack she could use to end it all, but Daniel never taught it her.

"You're not ready yet, Bob," he had told her, "It uses too much energy, and it may even kill you. I can't risk it, sis."

"C'mon, Danny," she had argued, "I can learn to control it."

"Sorry, Bob. It is too powerful."

What Daniel never knew was Bobbie would watch him every night during his personal, solitary training, and she learned how to perform the deadly attack. Unfortunately, she never mastered control over it, so she'd never even practiced it.

Lei was looking at her with solace, but she didn't seem to care. The silence made him uncomfortable, and he decided to address her pulling rank.

"Scott won't like hearing about you disobeying his order," he said calmly.

"Scott can take his order and shove it," Bobbie shot back, "and you, stop talking to me."

Lei shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt bad. Here he was, a forty-five-year-old Chinese man invading on a nineteen-year-old American girl's business as if she were his daughter. At the same time, he felt like a back stabbing "friend" because he didn't tell Bobbie about Hwoarang's ailment. Maybe he should also tell her that he heard her when she murmured, "There's no reason to live." No, he thought, I am not her father, she is not my child . . . but what did she mean?

Bobbie and Lei said nothing else to each other the rest of the way to the Mishima Inn, a martial arts resort at the heart of Japan. It was owned and operated by none other than Heihachi Mishima. They rented two rooms: one for Bobbie and Hwoarang, and one for Lei. Of course, the teens' room had separate beds. Bobbie couldn't afford to get separate rooms, much to her dismay. After what had happened that day, she was tempted to make Hwoarang share the room with Lei, and she gave in to it even though they would probably kill each other before the tournament. Each would suffer whiplash from verbal assault. Bobbie went to Lei's room and told him she changed the rooming arrangements. She thought about her encounter with Kazuya. Nyune yori soko, evidence over argument, he had said. What could he have meant? It just didn't make any sense. Was he talking about Hwoarang?

"Just two more weeks," she said in the seclusion of her room, "two more weeks and I can go back the States and leave this misery behind."

She climbed into bed and lay there envisioning her upcoming victory in the tournament. Her last visions, however, were that of someone she used to know as her true love.

Hwoarang woke up in a tantrum the next morning.

"Let me out of here!" he yelled at the nurse, "Do you understand English? I—don't—want—to—be—here!"

"Com down," the nurse replied, his English heavily accented, "youn' lady and jentilman come to see you. You vety bad hurt."

"Do I look like I care? I'm alive, ain't I?"

"Live, yes. You no fight in tournament, though."

"Excuse me?"

"You hed surj'ry dis afternoon."

Hwoarang sat there and stared in unbelief. He had no idea what was going on, and he was desperate to find out. He remembered getting shot in the side at the airport in Hong Kong, but he didn't remember coming to a hospital. As he pondered the events, Bobbie entered the door, and she looked none too pleased with him. He settled uncomfortably in his bed and thought bluntly to himself, Oh, yeah. Now I remember.

He tossed his hair aside and gave Bobbie a smart alec smile.

"Hey, Baby," he said weakly, "how're—"

"Don't 'Hey, Baby' me," she cut him off viciously, "no, sir, not after what you pulled. You scared the hell out of me yesterday. And you know what? You blew it. You might as well go back to Korea, because I don't want to see you anymore. You have only added to the misery of my life. Here," she threw 20,000 yen next to his bed, "since you can't fight, you might as well leave. The next plane heading that way is Thursday at noon. Find someone else to hold your leash. Reforming street dogs is not on my agenda."

She spun around sharply and nearly ran into Lei, whom she had just noticed was standing there the whole time. She maintained eye contact for all of about thirty seconds before she shoved passed him and onto the elevator. Lei walked to Hwoarang's bedside and sat down in the chair. Hwoarang could tell the old man didn't want to be there; quite frankly, Lei wasn't wanted in the room anyway. Hwoarang turned away from him hatefully.

"Aw! Come on!" Lei exclaimed, insulted, "Will you just listen to me? Now, look. I know we got off on a bad start, but now's not the time to hold grudges. As you can obviously tell, Bobbie has gone back to her cold-hearted self. Last night on the way back to the hotel she mumbled to herself 'There's no reason to live.' My young friend, I think suicide is on her mind."

"Shut the hell up!" Hwoarang snapped, facing him, "She wouldn't do something so stupid no matter how pissed off she is . . . . . and even if she did, why should I care?"

"Why should you care?" Lei asked in a soft, friendly tone, "That's a dumb question. Scott won't like hearing that."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes at Lei and turned away again.

"Do you not know who Scott Keisy is, Hwoarang?"

He shrugged complacently, "Don't give a damn, either."

"He's her older brother, boy."

That got the youth's attention. He sat up slowly and turned towards the man, "You mean Scott is really Daniel?"

"No, no, no," Lei answered, "Bobbie knows about Scott. She's just not allowed to tell anyone about him. He could lose his job over letting her in the army. She's a hacker, you know. She got so deep into the States' secret files that the government actually believes she's 29. 'Scott Keisy' is not the man's real name. It's something Hunter. Only Bobbie knows his real first name. He'd gone by 'Scott' for so long that I already forgot the name I had met him as. Anyway, Scott took on the responsibility of raising Bobbie and Daniel after they lost their parents, one to death and one to insanity."

"Well," Hwoarang began softly, yet irritated, "if she's got Scott, why is she losing sleep over Daniel? What makes him more important to her than the brother who raised her? And why the hell is she taking it out on everybody else?"

Lei leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs comfortably. He looked at the young Korean with sincerity, "Why does a dog bark at a stranger? Why does a baby cry for its mother? Why are we men instead of beasts? Some things just are."

Hwoarang turned away again. He knew what Lei meant, and it was directed at his attitude towards Bobbie's alternating behavior. He asked some pretty stupid questions, too. The room remained awkwardly silent for a long time. Lei leaned forward.

"To answer your other question," he said at last, "Daniel is Bobbie's twin. That's why she's 'losing sleep,' as you say. She and Daniel have that special relationship that you don't see among most siblings."

"I wouldn't know," Hwoarang grunted, "I don't have any." He turned towards Lei again, "And she complains about me not tellin' her anything...if I made you a deal, would you promise not to tell Bobbie?"

"I'm listening."

Bobbie was on her way to the Tournament Registration when her phone went off.

"Hunter," she greeted in her old monotone voice.

"Bobbie?" it was Scott.

"General Keisy, sir," she replied in that same voice, "on duty, sir?"

"Bobbie?" he asked again, "What's the matter with you? What has happened over there? Where the hell are you?"

"I am all right," Bobbie said, "a minor setback with a rambunctious youth, but I have everything under control. My location is Japan, somewhere around Mishima County, half a mile from the tournament registration."

Scott fell silent on the other end. Bobbie held the phone to her ear, listening to him breathe.

"Sir?" Bobbie said after a while, "Sir, are you still there?"

"That's enough, Bobbie!" Scott yelled, "Just stop! I'm sick of this shit you've been putting me through for the past ten years. It's time for you to grow up! It's times like this that I'm glad Mom's dead. She doesn't have to know what you've become. You make me want to vomit, okay? Do you know the real reason Dad was sent to the 'Funny Farm?' Because of you. He went insane because he didn't know how to tame you after Mom went. And do you know what else? Dad passed away last night. He died, Bobbie! And you probably don't give a shit, do you? No, of course not. You're too busy seeking a lost hope. Don't you think Daniel would want you to get on with your life?" he paused for a minute to allow her to respond, but she didn't take the chance. Scott went on, "No, you only care about yourself. To hell with other people's feelings and wishes. Isn't that right, SERGEANT! Ha, I know you don't care about what I'm gonna say next, but I'm gonna tell ya anyway. You can do whatever you wanna do with it. For his last words, Dad made a wish. I was there before he died, and his words were, 'I wish Bobbie was my daughter.' I was confused, and I answered, "Daddy, she is your daughter.' He patted my hand lightly, then turned over and breathed his last. He never explained what he meant, but I've figured it out. Now it's your turn. Think about it. I love you. Bye."

"Nathan, wait," Bobbie whispered, using her brother's real name for the first time in years, "I'm sorry."

It was too late. Nathan had hung up. Bobbie pulled over onto the highway's shoulder and shut the car off. She threw the phone on the floorboard, and, resting her head on the steering wheel, she wept.

On tournament day, Hwoarang was out of the hospital. Lei offered to bring him to the tournament registration, but he'd have to go disguised on the count Bobbie would be there. Lei suggested Hwoarang should dye or cut his hair or both, but the Korean refused either. In fact, he refused to even disguise himself, period.

"I just need to avoid being seen by her," he said, "Most likely, I'll be on the opposite side of the whole area from her. I'll simply use a pseudonym."

"Right," Lei argued sarcastically, "and just what, perchance, would that be, son?"

"Bob," Hwoarang smiled.

"Oh, that's original," Lei laughed, "Bob what?"

"Uh, what's her mother's maiden name?"

"Hathfield."

"You know a lot about her family don't you? Hathfield. Bob Hathfield."

Lei nodded his approval, and they got in line. Hwoarang looked around anxiously for a chance he might get to see Bobbie before the tournament. She wasn't anywhere in sight. That was odd, because he was sure she had headed this way two days early. She should've been here yesterday, he thought. As he searched for her, a young man of about 20 or so years of age approached him in the line. He was with another man, aging about his mid-forties.

"Hey, you," the younger one said, "You're a student of Baek Doo San, aren't you?"

"I am," Hwoarang answered, "and you are?"

"A formidable opponent," the man replied, "I am Forest Law, proud son of Marshall Law. This is my friend Paul Phoenix."

Hwoarang felt his flesh crawl at the mention of the name of Law. He tried not to show his disgust, and he did a pretty good job of it.

"Nice to meet a celebrity's kin," Hwoarang cheesed, "Is the famous Marshall Law here?"

"Yes. He'll be watching the tournament."

"He's not participating?"

"Sadly, no. Middle-aged men really shouldn't do more than their bodies allow them too." Paul punched his friend playfully at that, "What about Baek? Is he here? I know he and my father don't get along, but I'd like to meet him, uh, what's your name again?"

"Name's Hwoa—" Hwoarang anticipated, "—Bob. Bob Hathfield. Sorry, no, Baek won't be here. He, uh, 'died' a few months back. I wish he could be here to see rival students match each other."

Law looked uncomfortable after hearing about Baek. He extended his hand towards Hwoarang and said, "My sympathies. It was nice to meet you, Bob. I hope to get a chance to test my skill against you. Make your master proud."

Once Law was out of sight, Hwoarang turned to Lei and said, "I hate that guy."

Lei chuckled, "So I noticed. Say, whom are you frantically searching for there? Not Bobbie, I hope."

Hwoarang gave him a youthfully disgusted look, "And what if it is? It's really of no concern to you. I need to know where she is so I'll know how to avoid being seen."

Lei raised his hands in defense from the bombardment of the teen's verbal assault. They remained silent for a long time until Lei caught sight of an individual in camo garb. It was a familiar looking young man ageing around his late-twenties, early-thirties. Lei recognized him as Bryan Fury, an old rival whom he still despised. More than likely, Fury felt the same about Lei.

"Excuse me a second," he said.

"You're gonna lose your place in line," Hwoarang taunted.

"Not if you want to get into this tournament without any confrontation. I need to speak with an old 'friend.'"

Hwoarang complacently waved him away and continued in the line. He was next for registration when through his peripheral vision, he saw her. Bobbie had finally arrived at the Tekken counter. Oddly enough, she arrived on foot. Her vehicle was nowhere to be seen, and yet her body showed minor, almost unnoticeable, signs of fatigue. She wore a forest green gi outfit tied around the waist with a master's black belt. The gi top was sleeveless, like it had been cut with scissors, and gave sight to her many scars. Around her forehead was a broad, dark shade headband that matched the color of her hand and foot guards. She appeared to be looking in his basic direction, and for a moment he believed he had been spotted. Just before he decided to turn and bolt, a petit sixteen-year-old Chinese girl in a school uniform ran towards the young soldier and embraced her. Hwoarang only half expected Bobbie to hug the child back, but she did. Damn, he thought, she's known by everybody. He turned back around just in time to be registered. About the same time, Lei waltzed back over with a huge grin on his face.

"What are you so happy about?" Hwoarang asked.

"Nothin'," Lei said, "It's none of your concern."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes at him. The young lady at the counter looked up at him with expectancy.

"Name please," she said softly.

"Hwoa—" he almost slipped again, "—Bob Hathfield."

"So, how've you been, Bobbie?" the high-spirited girl asked.

"I've seen better days, Xiaoyu," Bobbie answered, trying not to sound so down in the dumps, "how 'bout you?"

"Xiaoyu?" the girl nearly yelled, "Since when do you call your friends by their last names? You're not very happy today, are ya, Bob?"

"I apologize, Ling," Bobbie sighed, "No, I'm not feeling all that great. A friend and I got into a fight the other day, and on top of that, my father passed away last night. I was here in Japan when I should have been in the States with him."

"Oh!" Ling gasped in sympathy, "I'm so sorry! How'd Nathan and Daniel take it?"

Bobbie looked at the girl wide-eyed, "Daniel's been missing for almost a year. How do you know about Nathan?"

Ling shuffled her feet and hung her head.

"Go ahead, Ling," Bobbie said soothingly, "You can tell me. I promise I won't get mad."

"Well, um, I have this school friend who's just as good with computers as you are. We hacked. Of course gaining your information was quite by accident."

"I guess I ought to be more careful with my hobby," Bobbie said in a shallow tone, "I can't keep letting people track me. Maybe I should have—"

She lost her words when she caught sight of someone who appeared to have been looking at her. A young man who was in the registration line reminded her of Hwoarang. No, it can't be, she thought, he wouldn't show up here in his condition.

"Should have what?" the sound of Ling's voice made Bobbie jump, "What should you have done?"

"Oh, never mind. Come on, let's get in line before they stop taking applications."

Bobbie was hoping to get a better look at the familiar young man, but once she looked up, he was gone. The line he was in had no one else in it, so she ran towards it dragging Ling behind her.

"Excuse me," Bobbie said, her chest heaving, "Who was that young man who just left this line? The one with the red hair, I mean."

"I'm under no authority—or obligation—to give you that information, ma'am," the lady said apologetically, "Are you registering for the tournament?"

"Yes, ma'am, but I need to know who that individual was. Can't you just tell me his name?"

"No, miss, I ca—"

"Tell her what she wants to know, Shen Wee," an old man cut her off. Bobbie recognized him right off the bat.

"But Mr. Mishima," Shen Wee protested, "It's against your own rules. All names remain anonymous until announced during a match."

Heihachi Mishima wasn't really listening. The seventy-three-year-old man had made eye-contact with Bobbie and cracked an evil grin; "Perhaps you didn't understand me, Shen Wee, so I'll make it perfectly clear: this young lady is Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter from the United States Army, and a very close friend of the Mishima family. You do remember her brother from the last tournament, don't you? Tell her what she wants to know."

"Yes, sir," she said fearfully, "He said his name was—is Bob Hathfield."

"Hathfield?" Ling chirped, "Isn't that you're mother's name? Is Bob a relative?"

Bobbie was bewildered. She barely heard Shen Wee's or Ling's words because of the fear she felt in the presence of Heihachi Mishima. Visions of the visit from Kazuya flashed in her mind. This man used his son—and maybe even Bobbie's brother—as bait to gain power. On top of that, he threw Kazuya—his own son—into a fiery pit! Bobbie knew Heihachi couldn't be trusted.

"Have a good day," he said bitterly, bringing Bobbie back to reality. Then he turned and left.

"Hello! Earth to Bobbie!" young Xiaoyu was getting annoyed, "You gonna answer me? Are you related to a Bob Hathfield?"

"Funny you should ask," Bobbie finally replied, "I don't know any 'Bob' Hathfield besides my uncle, except his name wasn't really 'Bob.' We called him Bob because he liked neither his first nor his middle name. His name is Archibald Eugene Hathfield. I also don't know anyone else with the last name Hathfield. That name isn't very abundant like Smith or Johnson, you know."

Shen Wee looked at Bobbie and Ling in annoyance; "Are you two going to register or not? If so, I need your names and fighting records."

"Bobbie Hunter."

"Ling Xiaoyu."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hwoarang heard the announcer say over the giant speakers in the Tekken arena, "welcome to the third international King of Iron Fists Tournament, hosted by the great Heihachi Mishima. The prize for this year's tournament champion is 15, 000, 000 American dollars, plus a special surprise from the Mishima Zaibatsu. And the honors of announcing that prize goes to the man himself, Heihachi Mishima!"

A large screen rolled down at the mention of Mishima's name, and a tall man of about seventy walked up to the platform. As he took the microphone, the screen projected his image so that everyone could see him as well as hear him. The crowd was in a uproar of cheers. He was halfway bald, having only two patches of gray hair on each side of his head that shot back and upwards like the fins of a flying fish. He stood tall and proud as he addressed the millions who were gathered before him. Hwoarang watched in awe as Heihachi Mishima gave his welcoming speech.

"My salutation is extended to all of you," he said, raising a hand to silence the crowd, "Welcome to the third King of Iron Fists Tournament!" more cheering rose, "Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh. Quiet now. Thank you. This year's tournament will be the most remembered. I'm retiring soon, and I've been looking for a successor. The death of my son left me without a rightful heir; even my grandson can't legally take my place because his parents were unwed. To the winner of this year's tournament will be the KOIF title and ownership of the Mishima Zaibatsu!" hysterical cheering, "Thank you, thank you! And now as a special treat to you and myself, I would like to give an extended greeting to an old friend of my family. Some people know her as the Masked Phantom or the Phantom Warrior, but most, including me, know her simply as Bobbie. Her being here honors us of the Zaibatsu. Join me in honoring the presence of Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter of the United States Army!"

Hwoarang joined the multitude of people clapping and cheering for Bobbie. Cameras were on her in no time, and her image was projected on the screen. She had a stern look of authority on her face, and she simply nodded at the public's recognition of her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Hwoarang felt like there was something different about Bobbie. Her face appeared as a young child's, yet she still looked her age. Maybe it's just how the camera's angled, he compromised. Mishima raised his hand again.

"It's good to have you here," he said after the crowd quieted, "and now, without further a due, let the tournament begin!"

"All right, attention," a young woman said after Heihachi handed her the mic, "This is how we are going to determine the first eight semi-finalists from the preliminary matches. There are eight designated fighting arenas in the area: the Blue Arena, Green Arena, Red Arena, Violet, Black, Silver, Gold, and Pearl. You were each given colored armbands when you registered at the counter. They will determine which arena you will be in."

"Awesome," Bobbie said with pleasure, looking at the band around her upper arm, "green's my favorite color."

"These matches will determine your entry into the main tournament," the woman continued, "Only eight fighters will make it there. These eight will be the 'last men standing' at the end of the ten consecutive matches. Your first opponent has been randomly chosen for you. Fate will decide the next nine. Please report to your assigned arena."

Bobbie made her way to the Green Arena and got a hold of a roster. She scanned the list of fighters assigned to her same area. "Bob Hathfield" was not listed. Bobbie sighed in disappointment. Oh well, she thought, maybe I'll catch him in the finals. Bobbie knew she could make it to the final eight if she played her cards right.

She glanced around her and realized that the only person she recognized in her arena was she herself. This made the game more interesting. Unlike Hwoarang, Bobbie wasn't afraid to fight someone she knew almost nothing about. In fact, she was expecting just that. She smiled in spite of herself. After all the shit he's put me through, she thought, I'm still thinking about him. She shook her head in disbelief. Before she could finish the thought, the announcer came on the speakers.

"Welcome fighters of the Green Arena!" he said proudly, "The time has come! All matches are no-holds-barred; everything goes—except there can be no more than two opponents in a match. Your goal is to defeat as many opponents as possible without being defeated yourself. The last fighter standing will move on to the semi-finals. I will decide the first match, and fate will decide the rest. The first battle will be Julia Chang, daughter of veteran fighter Michelle Chang, verses a newbie, Kalel Spencer."

"Good-bye, newbie," Bobbie said to herself, "this girl's a master of shinirokugo-ken and hakkyoku-ken."

Bobbie knew enough about Chang's mother to know that she was not a pushover. She also knew that she was third in line to fight whoever wins the match before her. She reclined in a chair close to her and patiently waited her turn.

Chang won the match after toying with her opponent for a while. Her next opponent was a young, Japanese woman about her own age. Chang had to use more energy fighting this one. Bobbie watched in displeasure, for even Chang's best was not good enough. Chang was pounded to submission, and she was officially disqualified. At least her mother wasn't here to see this, Bobbie thought sympathetically.

"Our next match," the anchor announced, "will be Match 2's victor, Lou-Whin Sphkua verses pro street-fighter, Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter. Let the fight begin!"

Bobbie allowed Sphkua to make the first move and land a punch. Damn it! she thought, I didn't even feel that! What a waste of my time! To hell with this! The punch barely even jousted her. She slowly turned towards Sphkua who was preparing to strike again. Bobbie caught the woman's clenched fist and twisted her whole arm around her back and held it there until her shrilled screams of pain were too much to bear. Sphkua was easily defeated, as were the next few who stood against her. Match eight was a break-through. It wasn't the best fight, but it was a good warm-up for her. She fought a young German who showed he had game, but he lacked spirit. He lost, but not as miserably as the first four who fought against Bobbie. Match nine was another young man, an Israeli, who was probably from the Israeli military. He, too, showed potential, but he was not worthy to be in Bobbie's arena. Her last opponent was a dark-colored man from Brazil named Eddy Gordo. Capoeira master, Bobbie thought, now we're gettin' somewhere. Gordo was definitely a decent match—Bobbie actually broke a sweat fighting him. He used a series of combos against her and even knocked her down a few times.

"Impressive," Bobbie said to him, "You got the skills. C'mon, don't stop. Just bring it."

He smiled at her and went for a break-dance–type combo attack and brought her down again. She realized she had to use one of her special attacks to defeat him. Bobbie used the attack her brother called "Schizophrenic," and she produced multiple images of herself, surrounding Gordo. All at once, each carbon copy of Bobbie attacked Gordo as if it were a planned ambush. Gordo fell weakly to the ground in defeat. She helped him back up, shook his hand, and insisted on having lunch with him during the break. He accepted her offer as an honor, and it was considered done.

"Green arena champion," the anchor said, "Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter!"

Hwoarang was in the first match in the Blue Arena. His opponent was a rookie police officer from New York, but he was also an experienced street brawler. To Hwoarang, though, the young man before him only reminded him of his repetitive encounters with cocky, think-they-know-it-all fighters. Hwoarang won in a matter of minutes. This upset him greatly. He wanted to fight someone who actually stood a chance; someone like Bobbie. Everyone who fought against him in the first seven matches fell like flies by his hands. By the eighth match, however, he was hitting the jackpot. In the eighth and ninth rounds, Hwoarang faced formidable opponents, even though they still couldn't hold their ground. At the final match, the strangest little creature stood before him—a training dummy, to be exact. They called it Mokujin. Hwoarang scratched his head in disbelief, and he nearly laughed at the thing until it mimicked him. What the hell? he thought as Mokujin mirrored Hwoarang's fighting stance he'd been using in the previous matches. Hwoarang became annoyed.

"Hey," he almost yelled, "cut that out! What are you, some sort of machine?"

The thing didn't answer. It simply shook its head and gave the youth a "bring-it-on" gesture.

"Ah, hell no!" Hwoarang said angrily, "You just opened up a can of worms, Pinocchio!"

Hwoarang opened the fight with a mighty tsunami kick, but Mokujin saw it coming and parried it. He was taken aback. No one has ever seen the tsunami kick come before it has landed. This guy was good. He then went for the hunting hawk maneuver. The dummy saw that, too, and it caught Hwoarang by his ankle and flung him towards the edge of the arena. He landed on his back hard, and it knocked the wind out of him. He regained his footing just as Mokujin landed its own hunting hawk. He was down again—and with a splinter in his cheek from Mokujin's wooden foot. When he got up that time, Mokujin commenced to use Hwoarang's machine gun kicks, and forced him back down. Each time he stood up, Mokujin hit him with moves he had used in earlier matches. That's it, Hwoarang thought, it only knows what it has seen. How about something it hadn't seen? Hwoarang decided to fake his defeat, and he lay in the middle of the ring motionless. Mokujin walked over to its fallen adversary—big mistake. Hwoarang waited for the right moment before he knocked the mannequin's feet out from under it. Hwoarang leaped to his feet and allowed Mokujin to mimic. As soon as it was up, the Korean youth grabbed its arm and performed his "Dead-End" neck-breaker. Mokujin went unconscious—if wooden toys are capable of doing so—and "Bob Hathfield" was declared the winner. He was going to the finals! He listened for the names of the other finalists.

"Congratulations to Bob Hathfield from the Blue Arena," the spokesman said, "from the Red Arena, Yoshimitsu; Violet Arena, Lei Wulong; from the Gold Arena, King; From the Pearl Arena, Jin Kazama; from the Black Arena, Ling Xiaoyu; from the Silver Arena, Forest Law; and from the Green Arena—no surprise here—Bobbie Hunter. There will now be a two-hour break for freshening up and lunch. All finalists are to return here at 2:00, no later. Congratulations again."

Hwoarang dashed off. He changed into his street clothes and headed for the food court. He had hoped to find Bobbie, because he was getting tired of hiding from her. He spotted her at a table with a colored man dressed in a two-piece yellow and green pant outfit. She herself was now dressed in her fatigues, minus the jacket. They appeared to be having a serious conversation about the tournament. Hwoarang couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"I have to admit," Bobbie was saying, "I didn't really think you stood a chance. Not many people can really last that long against me, Mr. Gordo."

"So I've heard," the man said with a Brazilian accent, "And please, call me Eddy. 'Mr. Gordo' makes this twenty-seven-year-old feel like an old man. What brings you to the tournament, um, Bobbie—if I may call you that."

Hwoarang was distracted by Lei coming up beside him.

"Blowing your cover already?" he asked.

"No," Hwoarang replied uneasily, "of course, not. I was just, uh, just getting something to eat, and I overheard her talking. That's all."

Lei shook his head and sighed, "Look, if you're not careful, you're going to lose your focus. Now c'mon, and let's get some energy for the finals, all right?"

Hwoarang reluctantly agreed, and he followed Lei to the shortest line in the court—the Chinese buffet.

2:00 arrived quickly, and the eight finalists were summoned to the central arena.

"That's me," Bobbie told Eddy, "I'm sorry to hear about your father. I lost mine last night. This 'Organization' you spoke of will be sorry they ever heard of your name, I promise."

"Thanks," Eddy responded, "Keep in touch, Bobbie, and good luck in the finals."

They shook hands, and she hurried of to the central arena. There she spotted Heihachi Mishima taking the podium again.

"Congratulations, semi-finalists," he said loud and strong, "You are the few who mastered the preliminary entry matches. These next matches will determine who will win the opportunity to challenge me for the tournament title, prize money, and my financial empire. First, there will be four different fights to decide four finalists. These four will then become two, then one who will face me. The four matches have been pre-decided: 1) Xiaoyu verses Yoshimitsu, 2) Wulong verses King, 3) Hunter verses Law, and 4) Hathfield verses Kazama. Let the first match begin!"

The audience behind Bobbie went wild as Ling and Yoshimitsu prepared to fight, but even above all the hooping and hollering, Bobbie could hear someone calling her name in the crowd. She turned abruptly and saw someone she used to consider her brother—Nathan. He was beckoning her to him. She tried to ignore him, but he wasn't giving up. Finally, she walked towards him.

"What do you want?" she asked angrily, "Why are you here? You want to make me feel guiltier than I already do? I don't want anymore of it, Nathan."

"Will you be quiet, Bobbie?" Nathan snapped, "I came to watch you win."

Bobbie was struck with grief. After everything she had done? He came to watch her after all the pain she caused? She wanted to weep, but not here. Xiaoyu's name was called in the distance as the winner of the first match.

"Listen," Nathan spoke again, "I'm sorry if I grieved you last night. Dad really loved you. And Daniel. He wanted to see you here at the tournament. He said something about being visited by a demon three days before he died. Said he looked something like Danny's friend Kazuya. You know anything about that?"

Bobbie was about to say she did, but then decided against it, so she lied, "No. No, but I'm sure I'll find out soon."

"Lei Wulong wins!" the announcer said.

"You'd better go," Nathan suggested, "You're up next."

Bobbie left. She stood in the center of the arena facing a young, energetic American boy whom she knew as the son of Marshall Law. They were an acquaintance from Law's dojo. This was the first time she'd ever seen Forest.

"Match three…fight!"

Bobbie was caught off guard; Law kicked her feet out from under her, and she hit the ground hard. What was sad was Law's attack had no damaging effect on her. She rolled away quickly and instantly regained her footing. Nathan was cheering for her in the audience. She counter attacked Law with a little bit of Phantom War "magic." The "Illusionist" attack confused Law, allowing Bobbie to appear to vanish and materialize behind him. She swung around and landed her forearm on the back of his neck and knocked him out.

"K. O. ! Bobbie Hunter wins!"

"Too easy," Bobbie said to the boy, "maybe I'll give you a few pointers if you ever wake up."

The crowd gave a standing ovation to the veteran fighter. Bobbie hung her head. It was a shame that even the son of Law couldn't satisfy her. Keeping her head down, she shot her fist into the air as a sign of victory, which brought an obnoxious roar of cheers from the audience. She was sweating through her brown shirt and camo pants, and she wanted to change back into her gi outfit. She prepared to do so when she heard the announcement for the next match, Hathfield verses Kazama. She went back to the ringside to be a spectator for this match. Jin Kazama looked as surprised as Bobbie did when the opposing fighter, dressed in jeans, chaps, boots and a power top, confronted him.

Bobbie stared in unbelief and hissed, "Hwoarang!"

Jin Kazama's glare thrilled Hwoarang. So, he thought, he recognizes me. And after all this time! Kazama put his hand on his hip and smiled. He gestured with his head to just bring it. Hwoarang grinned mischievously and bowed respectively.

"Looks like there was a 'next time' after all," Jin snickered, "Nice cover up, I must say, with the name. 'Hathfield.' The maiden name of Hunter's mother. You're good."

"Don't flatter me," Hwoarang sneered, "just hit me with your best."

"As you wish, but must I remind you of the outcome of our last fight?"

"Ha! That was months ago. This is now. We'll see who the winner really is right here! I've waited a long time for this moment!"

"Match four!" the announcer perked, "Fight!"

Jin lunged at Hwoarang just as he slid down and kicked Jin's feet from beneath him. Hwoarang got up and landed a hunting hawk on his staggering rival. Jin got up quickly and succeeded in his own air assault. Hwoarang countered with an attack he liked to call "home surgery." Jin hit the ground hard. He came back with the famous tooth fairy technique and brought Hwoarang to his knees. Hwoarang rose up and dashed towards Jin to perform his human cannonball move. He used Jin's knee to launch himself into the air. He turned in mid-flight and heeled Jin in the middle of his back. He then parried Jin's "demon slayer" attack and answered it with "hot feet." Jin was guarding his face, diverting Hwoarang's attack with his forearms. Hwoarang heard the bones in Jin's arms cracking. Jin was feeling it. He caught Hwoarang's foot and twisted it. Hwoarang's ankle was now sprained, and he was struggling to walk on it. He didn't like where the match was headed, because he knew it would end up in a draw—again. It carried on for fifteen minutes and rising; twenty minutes, thirty minutes, one hour. Hwoarang's strength was failing, as was Jin's, and both were in pain from shattered and broken bones. The two rivals were on bended knee, and large lakes of blood poured from their noses and mouths. Sweat blinded their eyes; their clothes clung to them, and their hair hung in wet curtains over their faces. Hwoarang had exerted more energy than his opponent, thus making himself the weaker one. I'm such a damn fool! He thought as he gazed at Jin across the ring, Baek taught me better than this. How could I have been so stupid? He found himself repeating things he had thought when he first fought Jin Kazama on the back streets of his hometown in Korea.

"Get up, boy!" a familiar voice rang in his mind, "You look worse than that day. Get up! Defend yourself!"

No sooner than when Baek said "Defend yourself," did Hwoarang look up and see Jin charging at him at full force. With what little energy he had left, Hwoarang leapt in the air, evading Jin's attack, and landing a "hunting hawk" attack to his enemy's head; both fighters fell.

"Double K. O.!" cried the announcer over the P. A., "The first fighter to stand up after ten seconds, he will be declared the winner. However, if neither is capable of this task, both shall be disqualified from the tournament! Referee Zenlou, begin your count!"

Zenlou moved to the center of the ring and held his left arm in the air. Hwoarang could hear him counting: "1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3 . . . . . . . . . . 4 . . . . . . . . . ."

Hwoarang began to stir.

"5 . . . . . . . . . ."

Half the crowd was in an uproar cheering for the young Korean fighter, and the other half seemed to howl louder for Jin.

"6 . . . . . . . . . ."

"Hwoarang," Baek's voice came to him softer now, "All you have to do is stand up. You don't even have to look at young Kazama."

The broken fighter opened his eyes, and there towering above him was his mentor and closest friend.

"7 . . . . . . . . . ."

"What did you promise me when you received Bobbie's message?"

Hwoarang remembered his promise, but he was unable to answer. Instead, he looked towards where Bobbie was standing. Her face was covered with anger and worry, yet she cheered him on.

"That's right, boy, now rise!" and he vanished.

"8 . . . . . . . . . ."

Hwoarang rolled over onto his stomach and placed his hands palms-down as if he were doing push-ups. He didn't even take notice that Jin wasn't trying to get up. All he cared about was staying in the tournament and winning it for Baek's sake. He slowly pushed himself up and carefully curled his legs beneath himself.

"9 . . . . . . . . . ."

"This is for you, Sensei," he whispered, and he gathered himself together and rose up.

The crowd stopped cheering and stood hushed in disbelief. Hwoarang looked around the arena, catching everyone's gaze, and in the midst of the silence, the Korean youth raised his hands in victory.

"He did it!" the announcer shouted gleefully as the multitude fired up again, "Bob Hathfield wins!"

Un-be-lievable, Bobbie thought grimly. She only half-expected—if even that—Hwoarang to win. Very impressive. She noticed that the youth had begun to sway to and fro with a strong dizziness; he was about to fall again.

"Oh, no you don't," she mumbled as she jumped onto the arena. She caught Hwoarang just in time. Throwing his arm over her shoulder, she whispered to him, "Why didn't you just go home?"

"What are you talking about?" Hwoarang scoffed.

"Don't give me that. You know you shouldn't be here. That wound is still too fresh."

"Save it for someone who cares," Hwoarang scowled tiredly as Bobbie helped him out of the ring.

As they headed towards the locker rooms, Hwoarang straightened abruptly and pulled Bobbie into a corner, pinning her to the wall. She was most displeased with his action and attempted to fight him off, but a sharp pain in her abdominal area forced her to submit.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, wincing in pain.

"We need to talk," he answered, "and set a few things straight. First of all, Ms. Hunter, I am not your child whom you may boss around and punish as you will, so act your age. I do not belong to your country or you army, Sergeant Major; I will NOT take any more orders from you. This is not Democratic America. I heard about your father, and—"

"How's that?"

"From Scott Keisy—or should I say Nathan Hunter, your older bother? I'm really sorry about your dad, but that doesn't give you the right to place yourself in authority over the rest of us. From now on, you dish your orders out on someone else."

"Kiss me," Bobbie said suddenly.

"What?" Hwoarang responded in resentment and shock.

"Kiss me," she repeated, "That's my order, now. There is no one else to assign it to."

Hwoarang scowled angrily, "Well, you'd better find someone." And he left feeling miserable. He really wanted to see her, to kiss her again, but for some reason he just blew her off.

Bobbie crumpled into the corner and began to weep. The hour was late, and the sky was dark; the first day of the tournament was over. Bobbie had no will to go back to the hotel. Instead, she remained curled in the corner thinking about what just happened.

"Nyune yori soko," said a deep voice in the shadows, "Evidence over argument. You are so blind, Bobbie Hunter."

The young soldier looked up to see a pair of red eyes gleaming at her in the dark and a shadowy figure moving towards her. The eyes became normal as the shadow stepped into the light of the street lamp. It was Kazuya Mishima—not the demon Bobbie had encountered a month before—alive and well.

"Come on. Rise and come," he said, "Walk with me, and let me explain something to you . . . . . it's all right, I don't bite."

Bobbie reluctantly took Kazuya's outstretched hand and found it remarkably warm to the touch. He's definitely alive, she thought, unless the dead bleed warm.

Kazuya led Bobbie to her car, which was parked a good mile away from the arena entrance. She gave a confused look as he opened the driver-side door for her. Kazuya beckoned her towards the car, but she didn't respond.

"Oh," he said smoothly, "You prefer to walk?"

Bobbie just stared at him. She was completely oblivious to what was going on, so she answered blankly: "No . . . . . where are we going?"

"Get in the car first, and I'll tell you."

Bobbie sat in the driver's seat as Kazuya walked to the passenger side and sat. He didn't give her a specific direction, so she threw the car into gear and took off. Kazuya began to laugh at the American girl. Bobbie looked at him like he was from outer space. He laughed long enough to make her smile.

"What?" she inquired, "What's so funny?"

"You are so much like your brother," he replied, his Japanese accent making him sound ancient, "How've you been?"

"Good, I guess . . . . . ah, hell. Why should I lie? I'm miserable. I lost my brother not so long ago, you know that; I lost my father last night, and tonight I lost the only person I care about other than Daniel."

"You didn't listen to me that night in China then," Kazuya accused.

"Yes, I did!" Bobbie shot back in offense, "You gave me an ancient Japanese proverb, 'Evidence over argument.'"

"You only heard me," Kazuya corrected her quickly, "but you did not listen. If you had listened, you wouldn't be in this position. That little bit of wisdom was not about your friend from Korea. Nor was it about you or Daniel or Nathan. If you had listened, you would have seen the encroaching danger on you and the other participants of this tournament. This is not something the Zaibatsu is doing for financial support. If you had listened, you would have seen the trap you and your friends have walked into.

"My father, Heihachi Mishima, had a plot to capture Ogre. In so doing, he could harness all the power the creature possessed and rule the world. The tournament's contestants are bait. Heihachi wants to 'feed' Ogre and make him stronger so that when he gets the chance, Heihachi can capture him and take on all the creature's power. That's why he attempted to kill Daniel and me. He was very clever with that part. He defeated me in the last tournament, and while I was unconscious, he threw me into a volcano, the coward. I would have died had a demon not challenged me to a fight on the terms that he could use my body as a vessel. I was too weak to fight him, but I tried, and lost. Ever since I—er, we got out of that pit, I had been trying to exorcise him.

"Well, first, you should know that after the tournament, your brother moved in with Baek Doo San for five years in Korea. After his sixteenth birthday, he came back to Japan to visit the Zaibatsu and meet with me, but I had already been 'disposed of.'

"Anyway, I was in control of the demon for the most part, so I decided to use his strength as my own against my father. I headed straight for my father's domain, but I was hindered from attacking him head on. I was hiding behind a large, ancient pillar on the outside boarder of the courtyard to avoid being seen, but what I saw was far worse than being thrown in a lake of fire. Daniel was there in the center of the courtyard, and he was bound hand and foot with shackles fastened to iron rings that had been embedded into the concrete ground. He had been beaten up pretty badly, and he was weak from exhaustion. I didn't see any Tekken soldiers, so I made a motion towards him, but the demon within me held me back. Suddenly, the sky grew dark, and a large figure lowered into the courtyard in front of Daniel. It was the creature Ogre . . . ."

He trailed off as if he lost the thought. Bobbie had already pulled the car over onto the shoulder and was listening to Kazuya's story in fear and interest. He was breathing heavily and baring his teeth in anger.

"It shouldn't have happened that way," he mumbled, "not to your brother and not in my own back yard."

"I don't understand," said Bobbie, "Tell me more of what happened…but let's get out and walk back towards the arena. The car's a rental under Lei Wulong, so it won't matter if we leave it here."

"We're twenty miles away, already."

"Good. We'll make it by sunrise."

Bobbie then threw the car into park, and both of them got out. She went ahead and took the keys with her and cut some wires in the engine in case the rental company found it before Lei did. That way she could claim someone stole it by hot-wiring—just in case.

The two friends started walking towards the tournament, and Kazuya continued with his story.

"Ogre just stood there staring down at Daniel with flaming eyes. He glanced around himself a couple of times before he spoke. 'You are the Phantom Warrior?' he asked with laughter, 'Your captor might as well give up his hunt for me if he's only giving me damaged goods!' You see, Daniel had been injected with some drug sold to Heihachi from the Triads in China. Somehow, Ogre knew that Daniel had been, as you Americans say, 'doped up,' but he was fast sobering up; he knew where he was and what was going on. Ogre walked about him, breaking the shackles off his wrists and ankles. He then ordered Daniel to fight for his life. 'I cannot,' he responded, 'I have been poisoned and beaten within inches of my life. Do what you will; I'm in no condition to resist.'"

"Wait a second," Bobbie interrupted, "you mean to say that Ogre knows Heihachi is after his power?"

"Knows it?" Kazuya laughed, "He dares it. Anyway, Ogre has been around longer than most assume, so he doesn't accept 'offerings.' He'll only absorb whom and what he deserves. And only occasionally will he take what he wants. Daniel was known world wide as the Phantom Warrior, even though at the time he was only sixteen—"

"No . . ." Bobbie contradicted, "Daniel went missing a half a year ago on a peace mission to the Middle East."

"That's what your government wants you to think," Kazuya remarked, "What did Daniel ask your father on your and his tenth birthday?"

"For his consent for the two of us to enter the KOIF2," she answered promptly, "even though I didn't participate that year."

"Did he come home with you after the tournament?"

"No," Bobbie hesitated.

"How come?" a wicked grin crept across Kazuya's face as he said this.

Bobbie leaned her head in thought but could think of no good reason why her brother wouldn't have come home after the tournament nine years ago.

"Well?" Kazuya asked after five minutes of silence.

"I don't know why," she snapped, "all I do know is that he went straight into military work when he did come back to the States."

Kazuya placed his hand on his chin as if he were thinking about doing something sneaky. "Well, then," he said, "do you not think it strange that he disappeared the day you enrolled into the army?"

The soldier was taken aback; not only was she surprised Kazuya knew that much, but the thought had never occurred to her. Now that she was thinking about it, Daniel's disappearance did happen on her enrollment date, and she herself had said the very same thing to Nathan. Why would Nathan lie to me about our own brother? she thought. Tears began to stream down her face as Kazuya went on.

"Six years after that tournament, Heihachi continued his plan.

"The creature Ogre made several attempts to force Daniel to fight him, but each time was a failure. Finally, Ogre became bored with him and said, 'Heal yourself, boy. I'll return tomorrow, and then we'll see if I am worthy of you power.' Then he flew off, and the sky became clear once again. The Tekken force replaced Daniel's restraints but felt no need to guard him, so hey left. That was my one chance to try and rescue him.

"I waited for the shadow of night when all the inner defenses would be down to move in. Daniel was sitting on the ground hugging his knees and staring dreamily at the stars of the velvet sky. I didn't really think he knew I was there, but before I even came out of my hiding place, he spoke to me: 'You don't have to sneak up on people like that, Kazuya,' he said, 'We're all friends here, right?' I walked out of my cover and inquired of him how he knew I was there. He said he could sense my presence. I was satisfied with that, but I was disappointed when he denied my help. 'It's either me or my sister, Kazuya,' he said solemnly, 'If he loses against me, he'll go after Bobbie, I just know it. If that happens, I'll never be able to forgive myself. I mean, I can only protect her for so long.' I asked him how he thought you would feel about him leaving, and he said he doesn't want to know. 'Leave me,' he said, 'Ogre is returning at dawn. Yes, I'll fight him, but I'll lose to protect my sister. Watch after her for me—I'm afraid she won't understand. Find Nathan or my father and tell only one of them, but not both.' Bless his heart. I reluctantly left him—I can't remember the last time I wept before then, but I was deeply wounded by his decision though I respected and honored it. I stayed in the courtyard behind a pillar until Ogre arrived. Again the shackles were broken, but this time Daniel fought. He tried harder than I expected him to, exerting a lot of energy, but Ogre was stronger. He caught Daniel by the neck and forced him to his knees, and he sent a ball of electric-type energy though the boy's body. That caused his very soul to depart from its human vessel and into Ogre's being. The lifeless body of your bother fell to the ground harshly. That vile creature then placed his hand upon the corps and absorbed it as well.

"I couldn't stand it anymore. My anger was too great to sit and watch, and the demon inside me fed off of it. I began to transform into the demon in my rage, and when I was done, I attacked him head-on. Actually, the demon did. Sometimes I can control him, but when my anger builds up, he controls me. I try not to get angry enough for that, but sometimes it just flows."

"You just left him!" Bobbie almost yelled, not taking heed to the last few words of the story.

"What other choice would I have had?"

Bobbie's mind was swimming. Right then she knew why the Tekken troops were searching for Hwoarang at Hong Kong International: Ogre bait. They heard of him through Jin Kazama after their fight in Korea. She didn't have time to respond to Kazuya's last statement; they were being followed.

"Tekken soldiers," she whispered, positioning herself for battle, "It's an ambush."

Before Kazuya could acknowledge, they were surrounded. He grinned evilly and also positioned for battle. "Twenty of you against poor little old us?" he laughed, "BRING—IT—ON!"

Hwoarang was reclining on his bed in the hotel room that Bobbie had rented for Lei (and himself, now) thinking about all his victories on the first day of the tournament. He even defeated Jin Kazama. That was—according to the tournament records—the longest match that ever took place in KOIF's history. He was drinking it all in, but at the same time, his mind was being poisoned by the way he had treated Bobbie just a few short hours ago. For the most part, he really didn't care how it made her feel, but somewhere deep inside he wished he hadn't snapped. He fell for her first, he knew he had, and he would find himself from time to time thinking about her and what she would be like if she were like other girls who had taken a shine to him. Jesus! he thought to himself, Perish the thought! I'm kind of glad she's the way she is...

His thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking at the door. He reluctantly got out of bed to answer it, and much to his surprise, the visitor was the Brazilian man who had had lunch with Bobbie earlier that afternoon.

"May I help you?" he asked, annoyed that he had been disturbed by a stranger.

"Yes, I'm looking for Bobbie Hunter."

"Next room over," Hwoarang said as he tried to close the door.

The Brazilian man caught the door with his foot and forced it back open.

"Eddy Gordo," the man introduced, "I was Bobbie's last opponent in the preliminary entry matches."

"Uh-huh," Hwoarang said monotonically, "and you're here because . . . ?"

"We had planned a sparring match today," Eddy explained, "She told me to meet her at her room at 7:00 sharp. She never answered the door. The lady downstairs said that she hadn't seen Bobbie since she left this morning for the tourney. She even left her keys at the desk. She told me that this room was also in her name, so I figured she'd be here."

Hwoarang scoffed saying, "She and I are not on very good terms right now, so no, she's not. Maybe she went riding around, I don't know."

"After giving me a specific time to meet her?"

"She and I got into it after the semi-final matches. I left her at the tournament entrance and haven't seen her since."

"Well, if you see her—"

"Look, man," Hwoarang interrupted, "I'm not Bobbie's keeper. She's a big girl and can look out for herself. She isn't my problem, nor am I hers," he was shocked at his own words and saved himself shame by tying to make Eddy leave, "Good day to you."

Just as he was shutting the door, Lei charged in, pushing the youth aside. He was breathing heavily from running up three flights of stairs.

"Man, why didn't you take the elevator?" Hwoarang asked

"Don't ask foolish questions!" Lei yelled gasping between words, "Where's my phone? Bobbie may be in danger, and I need to get a hold of her cell. The car-rental company just called the front desk," Lei said, "They said they located our rental some twenty miles or so outside of Mishima County. The engine's wires were cut, and the keys were gone—it was staged to look like a hot-wiring car-theft. Apparently, the rental people fell for it. They're giving us a full refund for the car.

"If I know Bobbie," he continued "she done gone and got herself into trouble. What do you think, Hwoarang?" silence, "Hwoarang?" he looked around to see that the teen had slipped away as well. He threw a punch at the wall and yelled, "Mah fahn yaou!"

Hwoarang had quietly departed from the hotel shortly after Lei had said that Bobbie may be in danger, but he was close enough to hear Lei "calling him." I'll get him for that later, he thought.

The young fighter knew that Bobbie had run off because of him. Of course, he also knew that she wouldn't just leave now that she had a chance to find her brother, and Nathan did actually come to watch her.

"Okay," he said to himself, "twenty miles from here, but in which direction? Damn it, I need a hobby! This is ridiculous. All right, give me a sign, heaven."

"Hoy," a deep voice said from behind him.

"Huh!" he turned around to see that Jin Kazama had been following him, "You! What do you want?"

Jin reached his hand out to Hwoarang and answered, "To help."

"You help me?" Hwoarang almost laughed, "For what reason, and on what terms?"

"Bobbie Hunter is a dear friend of the Mishima and Kazama families," the other verified, "as was her brother, Daniel; I owe them my life. I ask for nothing in return from you except a chance to fight you again just for the hell of it . . . you know neither of us could have really won that last match."

Hwoarang smiled mischievously and turned his back to Jin. Fight him again? He thought, Sounds good to hear. And why not? After all, I was strong enough to stand up, and he wasn't.

"All right," he said tuning back to Jin, "you're on. Now, how can you possibly help?"

Jin smiled and pointed his thumb in the direction he had seen Bobbie drive off. "We must hurry," he said, "she drove off with someone whom my grandfather said (after I described him) is a very dangerous man. However, I did not sense any real danger until the Tekken Force was sent out.

"I don't trust the Tekken Force. They had caused a major disturbance at the Hong Kong International when Grandfather sent them to search for someone."

Ntch Hwoarang thought, I wonder who that could have been.

"One of them left with a broken nose . . . "

Oops. That was unintended. Stupid fool made me mad anyway.

"A second one was killed when someone broke his neck, apparently by a good swift kick to the head . . . "

Hey, he shouldn't have attacked us.

"The other five are still unaccounted for . . . "

There were seven total? Humph, I only saw the two.

"…but they managed to fire a couple of rounds before they disappeared."

"And that hurt really, really bad," Hwoarang said causing the young Jap to look at him funny, "Yeah, I was the one they were searching for—don't ask why; I don't know. C'mon, let's go."

Jin shrugged his shoulders and led the way towards where Bobbie and Kazuya had departed.

Hwoarang was excited at getting another chance at fighting against Jin, but for some reason, he didn't feel right about teaming up with him. If he remembered anything that Bobbie had told him about the Mishima/Kazama family it was evil tendencies that was passed through the Mishima bloodline. It troubled him greatly, but at the same time, the fire of combat was burning within. Jin was nearly a yard ahead of him by the time he came back to his senses. The Jap was kneeling behind a large hedge and peering through the openings of the leaves. He turned around and motioned for Hwoarang to move quietly closer. He obeyed, and as he got closer, he could vaguely make out the sound of voices somewhere on the other side.

"I'd say they were another block or two away," Jin concluded, "Unfortunately, it sounds as though Tekken have found them first."

"You keep saying 'them,'" Hwoarang noticed, "do you know who the other guy is with her?"

"I remember what he looks like," Jin responded, "but his identity is unknown to me."

"Describe him. Maybe I know."

"He's about an inch or two taller than me with solid black hair—styled a bit like mine, only not so long in length. There's a large scar stretched diagonally across his chest and—"

"Kazuya," Hwoarang whispered.

"Who? Who's name was that you said?"

"Never mind. Let's push on."

The two youths moved away from the bushes and headed towards the direction of the voices. They moved as quietly as humanly possible, but proved not good enough.

"Hey!" someone called to them from the left, "What are you doing there!"

"A Tekken," Jin said to Hwoarang, "get ready, 'Bob.'"

" Ntch ," he responded moving to position, "He's just one man. What harm can he really do?"

No sooner had he said that did nineteen other Tekken foot soldiers joined the one that stood before them. His comrades encircled the two young fighters and prepared to attack.

"Does this luck follow you everywhere?" Jin asked the Korean sarcastically.

Hwoarang grinned and answered, "You have no idea how lucky I get sometimes."

"Do I really want to know?"

"Probably not, but I guess I'm a walking example of that old phrase, 'Be careful what you wish for.'"

"You are in violation of the KOIF Tournament policies, Miss Hunter," a lady Tekken said authoritatively.

"What policies?" Bobbie shot back.

"Leaving the premises without authorized permission," the Tekken answered.

"That's kind of corny," Bobbie commented raising an eyebrow, "don't you think?"

"That's because it isn't true," Kazuya piped, "is it, Shen Wee?"

Bobbie glanced at Kazuya, then back at the Tekken, and then back at Kazuya, "Shen Wee? The enrollment secretary?"

The Tekken woman removed her helmet and goggles and cast them aside. Bobbie was surprised to see the petit Japanese woman with shoulder-length hair standing before them. She was the one who wouldn't reveal the name of the contestant who turned out to be Hwoarang.

"Surprise," she said monotonically, then sarcastically: "Master Heihachi was so worried about you. And you, Kazuya, you're supposed to be dead. No matter. The master had a feeling he hadn't seen the last of you and ordered us to finish you off for good and 'rescue' Miss Hunter."

She motioned for her men to prepare to fight; Kazuya and Bobbie did the same.

"How long do you really think you'll last?" Kazuya asked as the Tekken soldiers began to move.

"Don't give me that!" she retorted, "There are more of us than you."

Kazuya laughed, "You think numbers will changed the outcome of this fight?"

She just ignored him and continued to carry out her orders. The Tekken didn't even go near Bobbie. Instead, they circled Kazuya. Ntch Bobbie thought, well, that ain't fair. Now, how come he gets to have all the fun? That just ain't right.

"Kazuya!" she called out, "Don't be stingy over there! Send some my way!"

"You are not permitted to fight," Shen Wee barked, "we are on a mission to rescue you, and you are to stay out of this battle."

"Rescue me?" Bobbie echoed, "What the hell are you babbling about?"

"Why, the kidnapping, of course. You were kidnapped by a madman posing as Master Heihachi's dead son and later murdered."

"Kidnapping? Murder? Ha! Who's going to believe that fairy tale?"

"Once Master Heihachi stages your death, it won't matter who believes; they'll all know. It's the perfect cover-up to what is really going to happen. And what's more, the blame will be forced onto Kazuya!" Shen Wee let out a wave of laughter that would make your hair stand on end.

"You're insane!" Bobbie yelled, now angry, "You'll have to kill me for real and drag me back in a body bag for that plan to work!"

"You don't know how much I'd love to do that, but like I said, the boss has bigger plans for you."

She's purely psychotic! Kazuya thought trying not to laugh, She has completely lost her mind. Not that I'm surprised or anything...

Bobbie was shaking with rage. Her fists were clenched tightly, and her teeth were grinding. The thought that Heihachi had this planned for a long time made her want to vomit.

Shen Wee laughed again, "You are just like your brother before he died: pathetic and weak!"

Bobbie let out a scream of anger and charged at Shen Wee. She didn't take notice of the two soldiers coming up behind her. Luckily, they were the least of her worries when Kazuya knocked them off their feet just in time, and the battle began. Bobbie and Kazuya split the fighting "responsibilities" in half so that Bobbie was against five (including Shen Wee), and Kazuya was against five.

Shen Wee drew out a knife from her side and pointed it towards the oncoming U. S. soldier. Bobbie was unarmed, and she had no way to ward off Shen Wee's blade except with her bared arms thrown in front of her face. She was cut several times on her forearms before she saw the chance to grab it from its bearer. Shen Wee was now unarmed as well, and the odds were evened out. Bobbie gained the upper hand on Shen Wee; she was backed against a tree, and even though she had more help on her side, it appeared as though Bobbie were overpowering her. However, Bobbie did not realize that Shen Wee and her squad were faking her out: the other four men who were fighting her retreated and ganged up on Kazuya. She turned just in time to warn him.

"Kazuya!" she yelled, "Watch your ba—ahh!"

Just then, Shen Wee took the opportunity to strike Bobbie down. Kazuya was distracted and was knocked out as well. As Bobbie struggled to get up, a strong Tekken soldier came up behind her and caught her in a stranglehold. She was jerked backwards and then forced to her feet. Another soldier had Kazuya in an arm-lock. Shen Wee walked over to Bobbie with her knife back in one hand and a syringe in the other. Kazuya's eyes went wide—he knew what was about to happen. Shen Wee glanced at him, noticing his expression. She grinned evilly and held the syringe up so that he had a perfectly good view of its contents.

"Do you know what this is, Kazuya Mishima?" she asked in a very lunatic tone.

"Is there a Mishima who does not?" he snorted, " Ntch Of course, I do."

"Yes, of course, but I'll bet your friend does not. This, Miss Hunter, is a special injection drug created by the Triad group in China. It doesn't have a specific name, but some call it the Relaxer. It tenses up the muscles around the heart and lungs making it severely hard to breathe. It also forces the other muscles in your body to shut down so that you are unable to fight. How fun! Too bad it can't kill you, but I'll be satisfied enough once the poison starts to kick in. Yokona, set her on her knees."

The Tekken holding Bobbie did as he was told, and he forced Bobbie to tilt her head to the side. His hand was still around he neck; she struggled fiercely, but Yokona hit a pressure point in her back causing her to submit. Shen Wee took the syringe and injected it into the girl's neck through Yokona's spread fingers. She let out a scream that would curl your hair and began to struggle again.

"It's useless, girl," said Shen Wee as she pulled the needle back out, "that much poison could bring down a full-grown elephant . . . . . . even so, it'll still take a few minutes for it to run its course, so you just sit there and enjoy while I call the commander."

Kazuya watched all this in rage. It's not right! he thought, Daniel told me to keep her safe! I made a promise! I made a damned promise! His anger began to turn into energy as the one thing he feared the most was taking place. His teeth and nails began to sharpen, and the horns began to grow. His eyes gleamed in the dark as he let out a cry of pain, for that was the real curse that came with what he had become. There was no stopping it, now, for the transformation had begun.

Jin and Hwoarang were surrounded by three rings of Tekken Force troops. Hwoarang thought for sure they had walked into an ambush, but Jin believed the Tekken didn't recognize him in the dark.

"Hold position," one ordered (obviously a general) causing the others to split like the Red Sea, "All right, you two, who are you and what is your business here?"

"Jin Kazama," the Jap said.

"Master Jin?" the commander responded less harshly, "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Why are you wandering around at this time of night? And who is he?"

"A friend of mine took off in this direction earlier tonight," Jin explained, "Grandfather allowed me to come look for her." (that was a lie) He nodded towards the Korean and said, "He's Hwoa—," the Korean elbowed him hard in the arm, "Bob Hathfield; he's with me."

The commander appeared to be in deep thought as if he didn't know how to trail Jin's explanation. He couldn't deny Jin's identity, and he had seen Hwoarang in the tournament.

"Well," he said finally, "I haven't seen anyone come through here in the past two hours or so, but if this friend you're talking about happens to be Bobbie Hunter—"

"Which it is," Hwoarang cut in.

"Oh . . . . ." the man said softly, then sympathetically, "Some madman disguised as Master Heihachi's dead son—your father, Master Jin—kidnapped her, and he probably killed her by now."

"That's bull-shit!" Hwoarang protested.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I watched her leave the premises voluntarily," Jin inserted, "There was no force or resistance. How can you claim she was kidnapped?"

The commander was taken aback. He pretended to be shocked at their disbelief, and began to dish out some more when his com went off.

"Jeho, here," he said, "status report?"

"Commander Jeho," came the female voice, "We have found the girl."

"Great!" Jeho said with false relief. He turned to the teens and said, "See? Nothing to worry about." then back to the com, "Code 9-9-8-1-4-0, how is she?"

"She's dead, sir," the woman answered, "Looks like they fought; she has a broken vertebrae. The suspect fled the scene."

Just then, there was a loud scream (obviously from the same girl) over the com followed by the roar of a rather large beast. A static hiss was all that could be heard afterwards, and the communication was terminated.

"Shen Wee!" Jeho shouted, "Come in, Shen Wee! Hello? Do you copy, Shen Wee? Look, boys, I'm sorry, I've got to get back to work. Go back to the hotel, and rest for tomorrow, okay?"

"What about Bobbie?" Hwoarang growled.

"She's dead," Jeho answered, "She was murdered just like we feared."

"YOU'RE LYING! Do you take me for a complete fool!"

"What? You dare to oppose us! Very well! Prepare to meet your maker!"

"Hey!" a strong voice demanded everyone's attention, "Cut the mallow drama, and use something a little less cliché!"

Everyone turned to see a figure decked out in a BDU (minus the jacket) standing next to a darker form who appeared to be trying to help the other stand. Both of them walked into the light of the clearing, and Hwoarang nearly ran to the girl in relief.

"Bobbie!" he almost choked, "And the demon?"

It was indeed Bobbie walking up to the group of Tekken soldiers. Behind her was the bluish-colored demon they had encountered in China, but there was something different about it. It looked more like it was trying to help Bobbie rather than restrain her. In its left arm (and hung by the waist) was the motionless body of the Tekken sub-commander Shen Wee. Jeho's eyes went wide, and his fists clenched in anger.

"Relax," the demon said in a deep voice as it tossed Shen Wee at Jeho's feet, "she still lives—barely. She's hardly even hurt, but I could recommend a good psychiatrist."

"And if you wanna take me to your boss," Bobbie said in a drunken voice and taking a fighting stance, "then you'll have to earn the right by defeating me in a fair fight."

As she spoke, Bobbie began to sway back and forth, and she nearly fell a couple of times; the demon would place his hand on her shoulder each time to balance her. Her skin was sickly pale, and her eyes were glazed over. Jeho began to laugh.

"You would fight me alone?" said he, "You're so doped up on Relaxer right now, you're probably seeing double!"

"Triple," Bobbie corrected grinning as Jin and Hwoarang moved to each side of her, "And there are three of us, one for the each of you."

"You said you'd fight fair!" Jeho cried.

"Yeah," Bobbie responded, "and fair it shall be. You don't think three on three is fair? Hey, Korea, can you take over for me?"

With that said, the poison in Bobbie's body took its toll; her eyes rolled back, and she fell.

"Bobbie!" Hwoarang screamed, "Bobbie, wake up, please!"

"Don't worry, boy," the demon said to him, "the poison's not lethal. But she'll be out for a couple of hours"

"Who are you?" Jin inquired of the beast.

The demon glanced at Hwoarang. He simply shrugged; he knew who it was and didn't really care if it spread it on global television. The demon turned away from him and faced Jin.

"You know who I am," it said blankly.

Jin's eyes went wide. Good for him, Hwoarang thought sarcastically, so now he knows. By this time, Jeho made an attempt to strike Hwoarang when he wasn't looking or able to defend himself in time. Jin saw him coming, though, and he prepared to ward off this would-be sneak-attack. Kazuya saw it, too, but he was quicker than Jin and intervened just in time giving Jeho a good swift knee in the gut. Hwoarang looked up to see that Kazuya had jumped in front of the three of them with his wings spread out to span. Damn it! he thought, The last thing I need is to lose my focus at a time like this. He stood up to assist Jin and Kazuya, but just then, Kazuya began to shake violently. He held his head as if in pain then turned to the boys.

"Take her, and run!" he yelled, "Devil is waking up; he's a killer. He'll kill any who could be used to feed Ogre and all who try to protect them. There's no time to fully explain, just get her and run! Both of you!"

Hwoarang didn't ask any questions; he scooped Bobbie up in his arms and took off towards the tournament grounds. He glanced back briefly to notice that Jin hadn't moved an inch.

"Hey, Kazama!" he hollered, "Quit stallin', and haul ass!"

He had no idea how many times he called after Jin before he finally turned and followed, and when he did, he was reluctant. The youth ran back to the tournament grounds as fast as their legs would carry them, and once they reached the entrance, they stopped.

Gasping for breath, Jin spoke up, "We should have stayed and fought."

"Believe me," Hwoarang said also breathing heavily, "that would have been my decision, too, but I know what Kazuya's demon is capable of. Besides, we wouldn't have been able to help if we stayed."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Look at yourself, and tell me. Both of your arms are fractured with a couple of broken fingers. Your kneecap is turned so far around, you practically have to bend your leg backwards to walk. You have four broken ribs—as I have three—need I go on? I myself am having problems walking with torn ligaments in my ankle. Basically—and I hate to admit it—we're too weak to be of any good use."

Jin turned away and stared at the entrance gates of the tournament.

"But he was my . . . . ." he trailed off.

"You'll do yourself no good talking about it," Hwoarang said in an annoyed voice, "We'll see what happens tomorrow."

Jin didn't say anything; he just turned and headed back to the Mishima building.

" Chshh yeah, whatever," Hwoarang said to himself as Jin disappeared into the shadows. "And that ends our alliance . . . . . finally!"

Then he himself turned and went to the hotel with Bobbie in tow.

Bobbie awoke to the sound of running water; she was in a soft bed in a hotel room, covered up to the waist. Throwing the blankets aside, she sat up and noticed she was still fully dressed in her BDUs that were now sliced up and bloodstained. Next to the bed on the floor were all of her belongings that were removed from her own hotel suite. The clock on the nightstand was reading 1:30 in the morning. There's still time, Bobbie thought, and she began rummaging through her gym bag for a clean outfit. She decided upon her blue jeans, black sport top, white Nikes, and biker gloves.

She heard the water shut off, and a voice called out from the bathroom: "Lei!" it was Hwoarang, "Is Bobbie awake yet?"

"I do not know," came the annoyed answer, "but I will check for the fifth-hundred time."

Bobbie hid behind the door and waited for Lei to enter. He had barely crossed the threshold before Bobbie snuck up behind him, catching the pressure point on his neck. He went unconscious, falling to the floor with an echoing thud.

"Sorry," she whispered, "but I can't let you tell Hwoarang anything; the less you know, the better."

"Hey!" Hwoarang called out, "What's going on out there, Wulong?"

Bobbie grinned sinisterly and then quietly stole away out of the room. She could hear Hwoarang calling after her in sheer anger, but she did not look back. She headed straight for the hotel's exit but stopped short of the lobby. The desk clerk was still awake taking care of last minute inventories. Perfect, Bobbie thought angrily, What am I supposed to do now? If she went straight through, the clerk would tell Hwoarang that she left, and then he would chase after her. If she waited any longer, however (or turned back), he would catch her anyway and prevent her from seeking Kazuya out again.

"Damn it!" she hissed slamming her fist against the wall.

A hollow, metallic sound was heard with the impact; it was the main controls to the ventilation system. She looked up-wards to see an overhead vent that led directly outside hotel. The ceiling above her was incomplete, and she saw how the pipes were "weaved" together. This must be my lucky day, she thought as she leaped into the pipe-work like a child on monkey bars. Hanging from the pipes up side down, Bobbie was able to open and crawl through the vent shaft with ease and speed, much like a small mouse. The shaft was also remarkably clean as if the system had never been used before.

She had barely made it in when Hwoarang's voice echoed through the shaft. She crawled over to a vent opening to see what he was going to do. He was only dressed in his jeans, bare-foot and shirt-less. She found herself unable to take her eyes from him.

"Bobbie!" he yelled, "Excuse me, miss?"

"Konbanwa!" the lady greeted cheerfully in Japanese.

"English, please," he nearly snapped, "did Bobbie come through here?"

"Miece Hoontar?" the clerk asked straining, "No, she no come th'ough here."

"What!"

"I says—"

"I heard you! I meant, are you sure?"

"Sama-ka! I been here fo' two howa! No one come th'ough at dis time o' night! Mahbeh she go upstair."

"Maybe . . . . ." he mumbled.

Bobbie watched from the vent shaft as Hwoarang darted back towards the stairs. He knows what I'm up to, she thought, this is going to be harder than I thought. Then she crawled away.

Hwoarang had a pretty good idea were Bobbie was headed, and it wasn't outside for fresh air. He could not believe this girl; she would risk her life for anything that looked dangerous. He didn't know what to do with her because he didn't understand her. What was it going to take to stop her? Would she ever stop?

"Why does she do this?" he asked himself, "Does she have no remorse for anyone else? Sometimes it's like she just wants everyone's sympathy . . . . . she knows how to get what she wants, I guess. Wait . . . . . what does she want?"

He stopped at the third floor of the hotel and spotted an open room where the janitors were cleaning; the balcony door was also wide open. He quietly snuck passed the cleaning lady and looked over the balcony gate at the backside of the building. He heard something from the ground, and he leaned over the guardrail to see if he could see anything.

"She's in the vent system," he whispered, "damned Americans—they think they're so smart."

He jumped from the balcony to the ground and stood next to the vent exit, waiting for Bobbie to come out.

Bobbie made it to the end of the shaft about thirty minutes later and stepped out onto the hard ground. There weren't many lights where she was, so she concluded she was on the backside of the Mishima Resort.

"I bet you thought that was really clever," someone beside her said.

"You couldn't find me," she teased coldly, "could you, Hwoarang?"

"No," he admitted, "not right away. But even you make mistakes. Besides, I knew where you were going. I can't let you leave like that again, not after what happened tonight."

He stepped in front of her and placed a hand on her shoulder as if he were going to hold her to the wall.

"Why do you care all of a sudden?" Bobbie asked pushing his hand away, "It was your fault I left in the first place."

"Well, I . . . . ." he was stunned to silence. He just didn't know what to say, nor did he have time to think about it.

Bobbie scoffed at him and began to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to himself. She found herself against his bare chest looking up at him.

"What happened then doesn't matter now," he said finally, "What matters is you're walking to your death."

"And I welcome it with open arms!" Bobbie sneered as if it were all a game, "I suppose you plan to stop me?"

"With all that I have."

"Just try it!"

She managed to weasel out of his grip, and when she did, she reared back and elbowed him in the gut. He stumbled back and winced in pain as he watched Bobbie take off for the gates.

"Bobbie, wait! No!" Hwoarang called after her and reached out his arm as if to catch her.

But she kept on going towards the gates. She made it to the threshold of the tournament grounds, but she could not pass. Out from the shadows came the Tekken Force led by none other than Heihachi Mishima himself.

"You're friend has more sense than you think," he laughed, "He was only trying to save you from imminent danger, and you go and knock his block off."

"He got in my way," Bobbie responded, "just as you are now. Move!"

"Perhaps you forget who's in charge here," Heihachi said angrily, "You're not going anywhere!"

Bobbie moved to attack him, but he was too fast. Heihachi practically disappeared in a sheet of electricity and then materialized behind her. She didn't have time to turn and defend herself when she was pulled backwards (in a position as if playing "Limbo") by her hair. Her shrilled screams of pain were almost unbearable; they were so loud that the windows on the Mishima Resort actually rattled.

"Silence!" Heihachi ordered, bringing an elbow down upon Bobbie's chest causing her to fall to the ground. He then placed his foot upon Bobbie's chest and knelt down saying, "No one leaves my tournament unless I say so, so I suggest you quit trying. You're lucky I don't kill you now, but even I would not be so harsh . . . . sleep well, my old friend. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Bobbie sat up slowly clutching her chest, "You won't get away with this, Mishima."

"I did last time, and I will again."

Then he turned and walked away with his Tekken Force close behind. Hwoarang hobbled over to Bobbie's side and sat down. She looked up at him and smiled weakly.

"I guess you're pretty pissed, huh?" she said in a muffled whisper, shaking her head in displeasure.

"Not this time," Hwoarang answered, much to Bobbie's surprise, "I'm beginning to understand you now. You're a mysterious person—and incredibly stubborn—but my behavior hasn't made it any better."

Bobbie smiled again. I've been so incompetent with him, and yet he's practically bound himself to me.

Hwoarang stood and dusted himself off; "Ready to go back?" he extended his hand to help her up, "It's really late; we're not going to get very much sleep as it is."

Bobbie nodded and welcomed his assistance, but once she was up, she felt herself begin to fall again. Hwoarang caught her around the waist and threw her arm over his shoulder.

"Whoa," he said, "take it easy. Are you okay?"

"I don't think," she gasped, "the poison has finished running its course. The pounding I just got from Heihachi didn't help much either."

"Come on. Let's get you inside."

The two of them walked through the front door of the hotel, and much to their relief, there was a different desk clerk on shift.

"Konbanwa!" he greeted, "Irasshaimase (Good evening, may I help you)?"

"What did he say?" Hwoarang asked.

"Just let me do the talking," Bobbie responded, "I'll translate later. Lie, arigato, genki ga (No, thank you, we're fine)."

"Oh, okeh! O-yasumi nasai (Oh, okay! Good night)!"

"O-yasumi nasai."

Bobbie and Hwoarang made their way to the stairway of the hotel. Her room was on the sixth floor of the building, but his was only on the third; Bobbie agreed to spend the night in Hwoarang and Lei's suite. She was too weak to walk up the stairs, and he was in no shape to carry her, so they decided on the elevator.

Bobbie caught Hwoarang groping at his side were he had been shot only three days ago.

"Is that still bothering you?" she asked.

"No," he answered, "but these staples are itching really bad—it's driving me nuts."

The elevator stopped on the third floor, and Hwoarang and Bobbie headed for the room. Lei was still sprawled out on the floor halfway in the bedroom and halfway in the television room. Hwoarang glanced at Bobbie accusingly.

"What?" she giggled, "He walked in on me."

He shrugged his shoulders at her and they both carried Lei to the couch.

"You need to lay down as well," Hwoarang told her.

"All right," she agreed, "Where do I sleep?"

"You can have the bed."

"Then where will you sleep?"

"I'll figure it out. I probably won't sleep at all since it's already morning, you know. You need it more than I do, anyway, so I think I'll just hang out around the hall or go out to the gym across the street."

"You'd actually leave me here alone?"

"Lei's here."

Bobbie couldn't help but laugh, "Oh, that's reassuring! I feel real safe now. C'mon, you know you wanna laugh, too. Look at him. He's already asleep on the job."

Hwoarang shook his head, "I guess that was a pretty stupid suggestion. Come on, go lay down."

He followed her to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed and, he squatted on the floor in front of her.

"I'll be right in there if you need anything, all right?"

Bobbie nodded as he stood up and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He stared at her for a moment longer and began to leave, but something inside wouldn't let him move.

"Hey," she said standing up, "what's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing."

He finally began to leave, but Bobbie caught his arm like a scared child. When he turned back to her, she rose up on her toes and kissed his lips.

"I was just joking about being alone," she said, "I can take care of myself. Besides, you look like you could use a walk."

Hwoarang grinned and left the room for the rest of the night.

"Ohayo gozaimasu!" Heihachi came over the speaker, "Good morning, citizens and friends from afar. Welcome to day two of the King of Ion Fists Tournament 3! Today's Finals are as follows: Hunter versus Xiaoyu and Hathfield versus Wulong. The victor of each battle will fight against each other for supremacy and the right to challenge me in the fight for my title and my company. Good luck, fighters. Let the Finals begin!"

Bobbie hopped into to the ring with a very excited Ling Xiaoyu. The young girl was dressed in a puffy red pant outfit that kind of made her look like a strawberry-colored marsh mallow. Bobbie had changed into her green gi uniform, and at the moment she wasn't feeling as durable as the little Chinese teen. She saw Nathan on the front row of the audience section; he spotted her a "thumbs-up" for encouragement. She just smiled and waved at him. Heihachi was sitting in his chair in a balcony that jutted out from the Mishima Building. He glared at her with a look that could make a blind man feel intimidated, and he waved at her. She mocked his smile and flew him "the bird," causing his expression to change dramatically. She laughed and then turned towards her opponent. Xiaoyu was none to pleased with Bobbie either.

"News of your little adventure spread like wild fire throughout the whole area. What were you thinking?"

" Ntch " Bobbie scoffed, "Save the sermon for when I might listen, will ya? I went out for a walk in the woods, and our humble host sidetracked me. Don't you worry about that right now, though. I think you need to be careful whose information you pirate off the Internet."

"Whatever," Xiaoyu responded in confusion, "Now don't go easy on me; I may be small and innocent-looking, but—"

"I got ya. You're askin' for it, though, you just remember that."

Xiaoyu nodded in agreement, and the match begun. Bobbie allowed the girl to attack first, as she had done for her previous adversaries to get a glimpse of her strength. Xiaoyu charged for Bobbie as she waited. What the—! Bobbie thought as Ling disappeared in a blurry haze, Oh, she is quick, but not quick enough. Bobbie vanished just as Ling went for an attack from Bobbie's back. Her reaction time seemed distorted, and she failed to see Ling's attack. Bobbie soon realized that Ling had the speed advantage after all. The girl was younger and lighter than she, and Bobbie was still recovering. This is going to be harder than I thought, she said to herself, I can't keep up with her...and she's just playing.

"Are we having fun yet?" Ling said as Bobbie staggered to her feet.

The girl was sitting in the middle of the ring like a frog on a lily pad.

"I can do without the childish antics," Bobbie smiled.

"Save your sermon for when I might listen," Ling laughed.

"All right, little girl. Round two."

Hwoarang was enjoying the ringside view of Bobbie and Xiaoyu's fight. What intrigued him the most was that each time he'd see Bobbie fight, she'd have a different personality…she never used the same strategy twice.

"Are you ready for our battle?" Lei took him by surprise.

"A battle that will only last a couple of minutes," Hwoarang smarted, "What do you know about Phantom War?"

"Absolutely nothing," Lei cheesed, "I don't understand it at all. Oh, yeah, this is Nathan Hunter."

Hwoarang had met Nathan over the phone, but this was the first time he'd seen him in person. Nathan was a thirty-two-year-old U. S. general. He was six feet and two inches tall—his spiked crew-cut hair added an extra half-inch. He himself was not a Phantom Warrior, but his knowledge almost exceeded the one who created the art.

"There is no strategy…" Nathan said, "…but if it's secrets to winning you want then—"

"No thanks," Hwoarang interrupted; "I'm not worried about her right now."

"Um, yeah…so, you knew our brother, right?"

"Not really. Master never let his pupils get too close with each other. He was a personal teacher, and he only taught one student at a time. I never actually conversed with Daniel."

"Geez," Nathan grinned, "must've been hard to make friends."

"That's what the streets were for."

Nathan sensed hostility in the boy and fell silent for a while. He began a quiet conversation with Lei, but Hwoarang cut that short as well.

"That style does something to your head, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Nathan answered bluntly, "Bobbie's naturally bipolar, but sometimes Phantom War makes her crack…that is if she relies too much on her 'magic tricks.' A lot of the illusions force her into a dream-like state, like a somnambulate—or sleepwalker, if you will—therefore triggering her bipolarity and schizophrenia."

"Oh, she hallucinates, too?"

"Schizophrenia is not all hallucination—no, she actually has this delusion that nothing can hurt her when she's in the somnambulant state. Look at her now…see how she's swaying?"

Hwoarang and Lei turned their eyes towards the ring where Bobbie and Ling were giving each other a run for their money. Bobbie was swaying left and right and gliding across the ring floor like an apparition. Her eyes were only half opened like a drunkard as she "hovered" around Ling's attacks. Every move she made was followed by an after image causing Bobbie to appear to be moving in slow motion.

"Oh, that's intimidating," Lei commented.

"And very effective," Nathan extended, "She's on the defensive."

"That's defense?" Lei was almost shouting.

"Well, it was…"

Hwoarang had stopped listening by then. From where he was standing, it appeared that Bobbie had recovered much of her strength within the past few minutes and finally gained the upper hand on Ling. Her attacks had become impossible to see; Hwoarang had become very dizzy watching. Finally, the spokes person came over the P. A.

"Winner, Bobbie Hunter!" came the enthusiastic voice of the announcer, "Another big victory for the Phantom Warrior! It just doesn't get any better than this! There's no telling what this talented young lady has in store, but for now, I would like to have the next two fighters get ready for the next battle! Get ready for the amazingly undefeated new comer, Bob Hathfield as he's matched against the experience of world-renowned law enforcement officer from Hong Kong, Lei Wulong!"

Bobbie helped Xiaoyu to her feet and the two of them left the ring.

"You are very good," Bobbie said to the girl, "but you're also too reliant on your opponent's sequence or strategy. Don't focus on that; just watch them. You have to be able to see their attacks coming. Keep your senses up. Also, don't be deluded with speed. Even that can be deceiving."

Bobbie met Hwoarang at ringside. "That was pretty impressive, Phantom Warrior," he said to her. "but I don't think you could really match me."

"Have you not been watching me?" Bobbie asked laughing, "Hell, you probably couldn't see anything anyway."

"I'm looking forward to fighting you. You'd better be at a hundred percent."

"I will be. You had better win this match or else it won't matter. Now, let's go get a latté; I need to refresh."

Bobbie began thinking of her plan to win the tournament. She had decided she was going to use her trump card—it was called Spiritual Deliverance—if push comes to shove. She had been perfecting it for years, and she believed she had mastered it and that it wouldn't drain her power down to her last drop of life as her brother had said it would. And if it does kill me, she thought, then consider it a sacrifice for Daniel.

The two of them walked to the café.

"So," the man said in English (apparently from the States), "what'll it be?"

Bobbie recognized the voice, "Jason? Jason Alexson from Cali.?"

"The same. How's it hangin', Bobbie Hunter of Florida?"

"Pretty well, Jay. Why aren't you at drill?"

"My unit general gave me a three month leave. My wife, Haoshin-Lou is pregnant, and she wanted to have the child here in Japan, her homeland. Lucky thing neither of us has had any previous vacation days against us."

Bobbie nodded, "Well, congratulations."

"Thanks, Bob-chick. So, what can I get for you and your friend there, Sergeant?"

"Sergeant Major," Bobbie corrected, "and this is Hwoa—Bob Hathfield."

"Oh, you've been promoted since I last saw you. Hello, Bob. Congrats on you big victory over Kazama."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," Bobbie said, "all I want is a latté. I'm payin' so he can have whatever he wants."

"I want a beer," Hwoarang smarted, "but I need to stay sober for my battle so just give me a bottle of water, and I'll be satisfied."

"Sure thing, dude," Jason said, "one water and one latté coming right up. We don't serve alcohol anyway. Oh, and it's on the house, Sergeant Major."

She smiled and as they took their drinks, they sat at the furthest table from the counter. Bobbie seemed to be in deep thought as she stared at her drink. Hwoarang looked at her intently, took a quick sip of his water, and then squirted some on his hair.

"Something botherin' you?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she responded looking up, "Oh, it's nothing…okay, that's a lie. Heihachi's power is stronger than I thought it was. If I make it that far, I don't think I'll be able to defeat him."

"That's not true. You were poisoned last night. It wasn't even a fair match. I'm not going to promise that I'll be an easy win, but I will say that if you do beat me you'll be able to handle Heihachi."

"I hope your right."

"Just don't be afraid of him. You can't let fear overtake you if you end up matching him."

"Attention tournament participants," the announcer came over the speaker, "would Lei Wulong and Bob Hatfield please report to the center ring. Lei Wulong and Bob Hathfield, please report to the center ring."

"Well," Hwoarang said rising, "I better go."

"I'm cheering for you—you'd better win."

"I will."

He leaned down and kissed her long and hard before he turned and walked away leaving Bobbie to contemplate her planned victory over Heihachi Mishima.

"Finals battle, match number two! Bob Hathfield versus Lei Wulong!"

The crowd roared at the introduction of the fighters. Hwoarang grinned with delight as Lei gracefully walked across the ring. The two bowed respectfully to one another and then moved to position.

"I've waited a long time for the chance to kick your ass," the youth said.

"You're not still sore about the whole mah fahn yaou bit are you?" Lei teased, "No matter; I can't promise I'll go easy on you, because I won't."

"Puh!" Hwoarang scoffed, "I beat Kazama didn't I? I don't need you to go easy. I'm expecting to fight you at one hundred percent strength, old man."

Lei smiled, "Very well. Let's go!"

The referee gave the signal, ant the two opponents charged at each other. Hwoarang went for a casual kick, but the veteran fighter proved worthy of his skill and dodged the attack like an eagle swift on its wings. The youth felt like he was in slow motion. He smiled, however, in spite of his miss. As they passed each other, Hwoarang noticed that Lei was clinging on to something at his side. So, he's got himself a weapon, he thought, and he just had a clear shot at me. Hwoarang realized that Lei had a pair of Chinese bladed fans and was going to use his speed to whip them out and weaken the boy with two strikes. Hwoarang was hit with the first blade, and he barely missed the second one.

"That wasn't very honorable," Hwoarang grinned as he covered his wound with his arm. Damn, that hurt like a paper- cut!

"No, but it was legal," Lei retorted.

"Wow! What an amazing play by Lei Wulong!" the announcer said, "I couldn't even see it! Wulong used the legendary Chinese Bladed Fans in an attempt to weaken his opponent, but it doesn't seem like Bob Hathfield is through yet."

Hwoarang was definitely not giving in…he knew Lei wouldn't last very long without using those fans. But how the hell am I supposed to get rid of them? he thought. He didn't have time to think about it. Lei had charged at him again with the fans spread to span. Hwoarang had just enough room to step to the side to avoid a direct hit, but he was skimmed at the center of his forearm. I'm gonna have to think faster!

"Wait!" the announcer chirped, "What is Hatfield doing? He appears to be—"

Hwoarang had fallen to one knee and folded his hands together in a position of prayer. This was odd to him because he had never followed any religion—especially one opposed to Buddhism, the religion of his homeland. He never believed in a higher power, but for some reason, he felt the need to consult one who was of the supernatural. Suddenly, he felt a new strength pulse through his body, and he shot to his feet. Again he and Lei dashed towards one another, but this time, Hwoarang spun around Lei and pick-pocketed the fans. He threw them out of the ring, and then he turned and performed his slaughterhouse maneuver on Lei who now had his back facing him. Lei was knocked out with the added bonus of a broken arm.

"Bob Hathfield wins! The next match is in half an hour and will determine who will advance to the ultimate battle with Heihachi Mishima for the title and the Mishima Zaibatsu. The final match will be the undefeated Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter, of the United States of America and the undefeated Bob Hathfield of the noble country of Korea. Good luck to you both. And now, we'll take a break for lunch."

Bobbie met Hwoarang at the ring.

"That was an amazing display," she complimented, "but I still don't think you have what it takes to match up against the art of Phantom War."

"You build me up just to tear me down, don't you, Bobbie?" Hwoarang asked with a smile, "You just wait, baby. I'll show you what I got."

"Oooh, you promise?"

"Come here, you dirty girl," Hwoarang laughed, pulled Bobbie towards himself and kissed her.

"That, my friend, won't save you this time. Now let's go eat."

Nathan reclined in his seat in the arena and began to think. Okay now, Hwoarang I get, and Lei is understandable, but why a tournament? Why did she insist on fighting in this game? All Nathan wanted to know was what the King of Iron Fist tourna-ment had to do with finding his brother. He himself believed that Daniel was killed as a P. O. W. in the Peace Mission only a few months ago. He almost felt stupid allowing himself to believe Bobbie's far-fetched goal of finding Daniel. It was foolish to him, because she originally to him that she saw a vision of the last King of Iron Fists Tournament. She had actually been there in reality as a spectator, but shortly before the finals, she had somehow fainted and fallen into a coma for two months. One month before she had requested her leave, she had the dream again.

"I saw him fighting side-by-side with another fighter," she had said one night.

"Must've been that Tae Kwon Do teacher he wrote to us about," Nathan assumed, "So what? That was two years ago, Bob."

"Scott, I've had this dream several times before, you know."

"Yeah, you wake me up every night to tell me. What's your point, li'l sister?"

"Well? You know what they say about reoccurring dreams. I mean, what if—"

"Oh, come on, Bobbie. He's MIA from the Peace Mission. End of story."

"But then why didn't he come home after the tournament? Wouldn't it make more sense for him to come home before going on a peace mission…?"

The more he thought about it, the less sense it made to him. Bobbie had a point, but who was Nathan to accuse the government of covering up Daniel's disappearance? But what if…no! Nathan would not stoop that low, especially since his sister was clinically insane. Now he would just wait and see the outcome of the tournament, and he was sure he'd leave with an untainted conscience.

"Cantonese?" Hwoarang complained, "Can't we have some real food?"

"We are having real food," Bobbie insisted, "All the other stands are serving synthetic foods from other countries—none of which are prepared by people from those nations. But this chicken-fried rice is to die for! Made by the real people from China! Nothing beats the real thing, Hwoarang."

"Kinda makes me wish I was back home."

Bobbie couldn't help but feel sorry for Hwoarang now. Here they were, two completely different people fighting for a similar goal with competing hearts and the exact same purpose, but Bobbie still felt like she was dragging him against his will. She was so distracted that she didn't even notice Hwoarang's confused stare.

"Hey, why the long face?"

"Huh? Oh, it was nothing! Really!"

"Lighten up, soldier girl…listen, I've never been so happy away from home. Don't quench this new flame in my heart with your regrets."

"Regrets!" Bobbie laughed nervously, "Wh-what are you talking about?"

Hwoarang laughed loudly, "What? You think I don't know? You're upset because you didn't listen to Nathan when he told you to leave me out of this 'mission.' Am I right?"

"Oh, I didn't mean to put a damper on your day, but it's true. I feel like this is my fault. All of it, I mean: you getting shot, Kazuya going nuts, me losing my temper…"

"Hey, getting dragged along on this was the best thing that ever happened to me. You're the only person who's ever really made me smile."

"Oi, that sounds like a line there, buddy, and I ain't takin' the bait."

That made them both laugh. Bobbie had to admit she was enjoying herself, but this was not going to last. She knew the tournament was bait for Ogre, and she was planning to use it to her advantage. She was going to save her brother even if she had to giver her life to do so.

The message for the next fight signaled for Hwoarang and Bobbie to make their way to the ring. Bobbie—now clad in denim—was in first welcomed warmly by the crowd. She did a few fancy kicks and flips to show off a bit and then allowed Hwoarang to do the same. He two then bowed respectively.

"Now here are the basics," the referee said over the microphone, "This is the last match of the finals. It is strictly hard-core—no holds barred; anything goes. That is except an interference by another fighter. Note, whoever is K. O.'d first or is knocked out of the ring is automatically disqualified, and the one left standing will proceed to battler for the KOIF title. Paramedics are standing by. Good luck to you both…Round one: FIGHT!"

Hwoarang made the first move. He charged at Bobbie with all his might, yet she didn't seem to be defending herself. He took his chance at a punch, but once his fist was within centimeters of contact, Bobbie vanished. Hwoarang caught himself before he hit the ring floor.

"Wh-what?" he exclaimed, "She disappeared!"

"I'm right here," she called from the other end, "I never left. All I did was step lightly to the side."

Ah, man, Hwoarang thought, she's too fast! How can I hit her when she can move around like a ghost?

"Tell me, was that a real attack?" Bobbie taunted, "Or were you just joking?"

"Do you see me laughing? Let's see you try that again!"

Again he ran towards his unguarded opponent, but this time he was ready for her movements. He concentrated all his thoughts on Bobbie's feet and once he saw them move, he slid downwards knocking her off-balance. The girl fell flat on her back, but she quickly rolled away to avoid Hwoarang's Tsunami kick. Bobbie then decided it was best to save her Phantom attacks for when she really needed them. Instead she began to use the jujitsu part of Phantom War to tire him down a bit, but it soon appeared his tae kwon do skills were sharper than her jujitsu alone.

Hwoarang had control of the match as long as he kept Bobbie on the defensive. She was forced to combine the jujitsu with her tae kwon do, and thus begin to push Hwoarang back with his own attacks. Even that wasn't enough, however. Hwoarang's human cannonball maneuver sent Bobbie to the ground, and once she got up, she was caught in Hwoarang's "slaughter house" technique. This isn't gonna cut it, she thought, looks like I've underestimated him, and I'm gonna have to go all out, full-throttle. She stood up abruptly, knocked Hwoarang down hard, and began to chant under her breath in Swahili. As she spoke, nine carbon copies of Bobbie circled around the ring.

Hwoarang laughed, "Your schizophrenic attack? Oh, please! Do you really think I'm gonna fall for that one?"

"Oh, come on, Korea. Give me some credit. I'm not dumb enough to use an attack you've seen before. This one's similar. Here you'll have to use the process of elimination without hitting a fake. This is called Pyromaniac—now just use you imagination on what will happen if you choose a fake."

Hwoarang knew the odds were against him in this match, but there was no way he was going to let himself get beaten by a girl. He closed his eyes and let his other senses help him. Only a real person has a scent. And she still has a vague scent of perfume

"Found ya!" Hwoarang yelled charging for and ramming his fist into on of the images.

Unfortunately for Hwoarang, Bobbie anticipated his guess and tricked him.

"Sorry, Hwoarang," she said softly, "you lose."

"What! No!"

He couldn't break loose. The image grabbed a hold of his arm and exploded, immediately triggering the other eight copies around him. Bobbie turned away and began to stagger out of the ring when his voice reached her ears. She turned back and gasped in disbelief. He's still standing? she thought, That's impossible! That should have packed about the same amount of firepower that was dropped on Hiroshima!

"That was a dirty, cheap trick, Bobbie," Hwoarang said, "but my will is stronger than your dynamite doubles. Now, c'mon, and let's get this thing started!"

"Impressive," Bobbie smiled dryly, "All right, let's dance!"

The audience was in an uproar. Nathan couldn't believe the two of them were going at it again. He smiled in spite of himself. And to think, he thought, I suggested Anger Management classes. She seems to be handling things quite well—ohh! That one had to hurt. Huh? What's this? Sundown at 6:30? The skies suddenly became dark as night—so dark that they had to turn the stadium lights on to see the match. Nathan looked up to see a dark figure circling above the arena and then disappear in a puff of smoke.

"Could that be…?"

Hwoarang could barely take anymore of the beating he was getting, but for some reason he was enjoying this fight. For the first time in his life, he knew he could actually beat someone honestly—yes, he could beat Bobbie if she hadn't gone all out with the Pyro thing. For every action Hwoarang had, Bobbie had a counter attack ready for him. He couldn't land a single punch. It appeared that he had finally been beaten. He had truly lost. Then suddenly, Bobbie dropped her guard. This was his chance to take her down. He leapt up in the air and landed a hunting hawk attack that plastered Bobbie to the ring floor. Victory was his! He won! He beat Bobbie!

"And the winner of the KOIF Finals by knock out is—"

Just then, Bobbie caught her second wind and nailed Hwoarang in the chest. He was sent skidding to the ring's edge, but he did not fall. Darkness fell upon the ring just as Hwoarang returned to the center of the ring.

"Bobbie?" he called, "What the hell is going on?"

"I can't see, Hwoarang," Bobbie called back, "but it appears that the guest of honor has finally arrived."

"Where are you?"

"Here," Bobbie had caught a hold of Hwoarang's arm, "We'd better get clear of the ring."

The two tried to make their way towards the edge of the ring. Aloud roar from the sky echoed through the arena, and a sound like thunder boomed in response. Hwoarang found himself looking up instead of ahead. He caught sight of a faint glow of white light that seemed to be heading straight for them.

"Bobbie, look out!" he yelled.

He shoved her away just as a terrific bolt of lightning landed right between them. Both were sent flying into opposite walls of the arena. The darkness let up enough for Bobbie to see the other side where Hwoarang had gone. He was conscious, but he wasn't going anywhere for a while.

"Hey, are you okay," she asked brushing his hair out of his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he managed grasping Bobbie's hand, "but you're hurt."

Bobbie had a deep incision in her palm, and it was pouring with blood.

"Just a flesh wound," she said, "I can't even feel it."

Hwoarang tore what was left of his shirt apart and wrapped up Bobbie's hand just as Heihachi approached them.

"Looks like you're both disqualified," he laughed.

"Like hell, we are," Bobbie snapped, "we had interference! We're entitled to a rematch once the problem is settled!"

"Looks like that won't be happening, but I'm a reasonable man. Let's do it this way: you can skip this fight and take me on right now."

"What! Our match is still undecided, Mishima! How the hell can you make such an offer?"

He laughed again; "Decide by janken, if you must."

"I'd rather take my chances with the beast! You're nothing but a dishonorable old man!"

"You know the rules, Hunter," Heihachi said with more power, "you must fight me! The tournament is official no matter what you accuse me of. The tournament conditions still stand, and you don't have to worry about Ogre. It's not coming down until the strongest is left standing. This is it! You want the creature, you'll have to defeat me!"

"Oh, believe me, I will! Just bring it!" Bobbie yelled as she jumped back into the ring.

Heihachi laughed again, "You really think you stand a chance? Oh, yes, there is one more thing…" he vanished and reappeared behind the young soldier as he had done before, placing his hand on the back of her neck, "Watch your back!"

With that, an electric pulse was sent through Bobbie's body from the tips of Heihachi's fingers. Bobbie howled in pain as she felt almost every ounce of her energy being drained. There wasn't much she could do, and Ogre's foul scent had drawn closer to the earth. The audience began to scream and scatter in fear, and they tried to run for the gates, crushing many to death.

Heihachi finally let Bobbie loose watching her hit the ground; "What now?" he sneered, "You have nothing left but to be devoured by the darkness, and then all the friends and rivals you've made shall be forced to do the same. Give your power to the most extreme being of the universe!"

Bobbie began laughing hysterically, and much to Heihachi's surprise, the girl stood up proudly. Her laughs were like those of a crazed and psychotic killer locked in an asylum. Heihachi was stunned silent. Incredible! he thought, My attack—along with that Phantom War—has twisted her psychological being. She's insane, but that can be used to my advantage.

"You want some more!" he yelled, "Come on!"

Bobbie laughed again and rubbed her neck, "You're talking to me, right? Ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh, please, I must insist, you go first. I mean, what're ya gonna do? Tickle me with your fancy fire works again?"

"You mock me?" Heihachi asked angrily, "How dare you, you insolent little wench! You shall rue the day you crossed me!"

Bobbie tilted her head and gave the old man a stupefied look; "Rue? Rue this, creep!" she made an obscene gesture with her arms that made Heihachi burn red—literally.

"That's enough!" he screamed.

The girl began laughing again. It was so maniacal it was actually diabolical, as if she inhaled too much laughing gas. My strength has increased with this new "handicap," she thought, What is it with mental patients that they can over power even the strongest man? Hah! I don't really care! This is a swingin' feelin', an' I'm lovin' it!

"Shut up!" the old man demanded, "Stop laughing, and fight me!"

A serious stare finally crawled across Bobbie's face. Her voice was booming with authority when she spoke, "I don't have time to play with you right now, you old geezer. I have a mission to complete!"

She made a charge for the angered Heihachi, but he never saw her. She flew across the ring like a missile and jabbed her elbow into his gut. He took a wheezing gasp for breath before falling unconscious outside of the ring. Bobbie smiled, but it soon faded when she came to her senses. What happened? she thought, shaking her head, That was wild…She didn't have much time to debate it. Ogre was two hours away in the air, and she needed the time to regain her strength. She swayed to and fro until her knees gave way, and she sat down hard.

Nathan remained in his seat, calm and unmoved, and once the crowd had settled, he jumped over the barrier wall and ran to the ring to aide his sister. He was later joined by Hwoarang who barely had a scratch on him, even though he had taken a sever beating from Bobbie and even the bolt of electricity. Then Lei appeared. Then Eddy. Then Xiaoyu. Then other major fighters they had encountered at the tournament. All of them brought something with them to help Bobbie to recover: water, food, medical aide, a change of clothes, et cetera. Nathan knelt down next to her.

"So now what?" she asked him.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," he responded, "of course, if you're asking me for ideas or the like, I personally think you should abort this mission, and help me get these people to safety while that thing takes its precious time to get down here."

"And what would that accomplish? I can't just run away. If Ogre is allowed to live after this day, he'll hunt all of us down. I don't intend to run for the rest of my life."

"But he's stronger than you and the rest of these fighters combined. There's no way you can win."

"Then I'll die trying. Daniel didn't train me to be a coward. I will win no mater what."

Bobbie spent the next hour and a half with the Zaibatsu medical officials in the compound's clinic. They confirmed that she was mentally unstable after Heihachi's light show, and any serious blow to the head would send her off the deep end. She would have to avoid any special attack if she wanted to keep her mind, but she felt so much stronger when she was—for the lack of a better term—insane.

When the chance came, Bobbie headed back towards the ring against the doctors' wishes. She didn't feel the need to change into the clothes Lei brought for her although the ones she currently wore were torn and bloodstained. She heard a loud roar outside the building and thought, Right on schedule. Hwoarang met her at the door.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Like a million bucks." She answered with a wince, "I need to speak with Nathan. Have you seen him?"

"Food court."

"Good, I'm hungry. Let's go."

They walked towards the food area where they met up with Lei and Nathan. The original plan was that they all sat and ate together, but Bobbie insisted on eating with Nathan alone. When they sat, Bobbie immediately began on Daniel.

"Why did you have to lie about him, Nathan?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?" he responded, "I simply told you the same thing I was told. Who am I to go against what my own superiors say?"

"You don't need to cover up the truth and then blame it on the government, you know."

"What makes you think I am?"

"Because you're the only one Kazuya could have left with the secret."

"Kazuya? Secret? What? You're not making any sense, Bobbie. Your head injury must be worse than they thought."

"You mean you weren't visited by Kazuya?"

Nathan shook his head, "No, but something tells me that you have a lie of your own to apologize to me for. You told me you didn't know about the demon who visited Dad, remember? Hwoarang told me of last night's little caper."

Bobbie hung her head shamefully; "Well, at the time, I didn't think it mattered, and I—wait a minute!" she fell silent and thought, That jerk! He told Dad, and it was a little too late! I don't believe it. Ooh, wait 'til I get my hands on him!

"What's wrong?" Nathan asked, but Bobbie didn't have time to answer.

Ogre had finally made his entrance into the tournament, and Bobbie made her way to the arena. Nathan was yelling after her, but she did not stop.

She turned her head and yelled, "Dad's journal! It'll tell you everything you want to know! Hwoarang! Come on! It's here!"

That was the last time Nathan saw her. She ran straight to the ring and into the darkness that enclosed it. Nathan tried to follow her, but the darkness acted as a barrier, which he could not pass. Lei and Hwoarang caught up with him.

"Bobbie's in there," Nathan said to the guys, "but I can't get through."

Hwoarang placed his hand on the dark wall. He felt a slight tugging as if someone were trying to bull him in. He turned to the others and said, "He wants us to follow. Apparently he wants anyone who can give him power. Wulong, we should go. Hunter, you'll have t stay here."

"And do what?" he inquired angrily.

"And hope for the best," Lei suggested, "C'mon."

And they, too, vanished into the dark.

Inside the arena was total darkness like a cloudy, moonless night; the only light that shone was a single emergency light that hung over the ring. Bobbie advanced towards it with no thought given to the fact that this was now Ogre's domain, and he could be hiding anywhere in the dark. A voice beckoned her from the shadows.

"Come," it said in a soft tone that echoed like the wind, "Come, Phantom Warrior to your doom."

She felt an arm wrap around her waist. It was Hwoarang. Lei was not too far behind.

"If you go in there, I'm going with you," he said.

The two made their way to the ring carefully and stood at the center. "Come out, beast and face us," Bobbie said, "it is dishonorable to hide from your opponent, and I know you have honor with all those personalities inside your body."

No sooner had she spoke did an ancient-looking being step forth from the shadows. It was clothed in golden Aztec garb, having green skin and red eyes, and he was wise with age. He was no ogre described in fairy tales, but it looked to Bobbie that it really lived up to the title. It bowed respectively.

"I am the one called Ogre," it said with a gentle growl, "an ancient Aztec demon brought forth from the depths of the earth."

"And I am Sergeant Major Bobbie Hunter," Bobbie acknowledged, bowing as well, "successor as well as sister to the previous Phantom Warrior, Daniel Hunter."

"And I am Hwoarang, apprentice to Baek Doo San of Korea."

"We're here to send you back to back to that molten chasm."

"Strong words coming from a mortal girl and her lover. They shall be your last."

"Mark my words, creature," Bobbie retorted, "if I die this day, I'm taking you with me."

"We shall see. But the boy will have to wait his turn. He must leave now."

Suddenly, a strong wind forced Hwoarang out of the ring, and Bobbie was left alone with the creature.

"Now," it said, "defend yourself!"

Lei made his way to the ringside to try and help Bobbie and Hwoarang in the match, but when he got there, he found that another barrier had been set around the ring and that Hwoarang had been forced out of it.

"Well," he said panting, "at least he's abiding by most of the rules of the tournament. And the match has only just begun."

"At least someone is," Hwoarang scoffed, "because I'm getting real sick and tired of being thrown around like a rag doll!"

"The odds are against her," Lei snorted, "You must remember, Ogre knows how to manipulate Phantom War, also and can use Bobbie's own attacks against her. Plus," he tagged, "it's got about a thousand other stolen techniques."

"Well," Hwoarang sighed, "she'd better stay alive…she owes me a rematch. I'm going to find a way inside."

Lei looked at Hwoarang like he was crazy.

"What makes you think you can?" he asked.

The Korean shrugged and walked towards the barrier. He reached out his hand to touch it and see if he could pass through like he did the first one, but Lei grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

"What's you're problem, Lei!" he yelled.

Lei didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out one of his bladed fans and threw it at the wall. The impact was followed by the sound of electrical whirring, and then the fan fell to the ground in ashes.

"It's clear it wants us to stay out until the match is over," a voice said from the shadows.

It was Jin! He emerged from the dark and began poking at the ashes with his shoe.

"Where'd you come from?" Lei said in surprise.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is there is no way in until one of them falls."

Hwoarang folded his arms and stared in disbelief; "Okay then," he said, "I'm fresh out of ideas."

"Well then," Lei said, "we wait."

Ogre made it a point to make Bobbie attack first, and she knew it. Regardless, she played along and charged head on towards the beast that proved to be no pushover. Much like she herself had done several times that weekend, Ogre stepped lightly to the side and appeared to vanish into thin air. It was faster than she was by ten miles per second! However, as it also happened before, Bobbie charged again, and this time she slid and hit its feet. Hwoarang, she thought, remind me to thank you when I get out of here. Once she stood back up, Ogre had completely vanished for real.

"Huh?" she said, "Where'd it go? He couldn't have gone far with this barrier being up."

She closed her eyes knowing that they could easily deceive her in a battle such as this. Ogre's scent was very close to her. She began to walk backwards close to the edge of the ring so she wouldn't be attacked from behind, but Ogre proved more resourceful than she anticipated. It was behind her! She could hear it breathing! Bobbie ducked and rolled just in time to avoid being caught in Ogre's bone-crushing bear hug. She was forced to go on the defensive as the creature started dishing out moves and attacks that hadn't been seen since the first KOIF tournament. More than once she felt herself get thrown against the barrier getting a dose of shock treatment, but she continued to hold her ground.

"Is that all you got?" she taunted, "C'mon, I'm not even sweating yet!"

"Then let me turn up the heat for you!"

Suddenly, a yellow, sulfuric-type cloud began to form around Bobbie's feet and slowly rise up around her body. She was sweating now! It was as if she were on fire, and the sulfur made it very hard to breath. She fell on her hands and knees gagging as she tried to escape the cloud. Ogre didn't give her a chance to stand. It had flown up into the air and made like a dive bomb, landing on Bobbie's back. The impact destroyed that whole corner of the ring, but Bobbie remained almost untouched. Ogre had missed its target by two inches, thanks to Bobbie's last minute decision to roll over.

She stood up and dusted herself off. "Alright, bub," she said moving into phantom stance, "time for round two."

Sitting outside the ring, the three fighters felt boredom settling in. Hwoarang paced around kicking rocks at the barrier, listening to them sizzle. Jin was sitting on a bench creating electrical balls out of thin air like his grandfather had taught him to not so long ago. Lei was making a fool of himself, waving his arm around like a banshee trying to get Bobbie's attention.

"I don't think she can see or hear us," he said finally.

"Really?" Jin said sarcastically, "Did you figure that one out by yourself, Sherlock?"

That made Hwoarang look at the Jap impressively. Damn, he's a bigger punk than me. Cool.

"Wholly shit!" Jin jumped, "Did you guys just see that? Ogre just took a nose dive into the ring!"

"Looks like it intended to break Bobbie's back in two," Lei said, "Good thing it missed."

"You sure she can't hear us?" Hwoarang asked.

"It's pretty obvious, Romeo," Jin said, waving his hand (Bobbie was standing right in front of them but didn't seem to notice them), "She can't even see us. That's one fool-proof wall."

"I just feel so useless standing out here doing nothing."

Just then, the battle picked up again, and the three warriors turned their attention to the ring.

"That was a cheap trick," Bobbie said casually, "but you'd better be careful next time. I'd hate for you to trigger my 'mental disposition' while you're so close to beating me. Just remember: no sharp blows to the head. That's fair, right?"

Of course, she was bluffing. Phantom War seemed to work better when she was on the mental side. The beast didn't seem to be taking the bait, though.

"As you wish," it said with a slow, hollow voice, "but it won't change anything."

They were at it again, Bobbie on the offensive this time. She was finally able to pay Ogre back for all the trips to the electric wall and gain the upper hand in the fight. She had gained a second wind, and the creature couldn't lay a hand on her. She went around it with great speed and agility, taunting and mocking it. Suddenly, the tables turned again, and the battle took a turn for the worst. Ogre had managed to catch Bobbie by the hair of her head and lift her off the ground by it. She reached up and grabbed its wrist in an attempt to pry its fingers away, but it was no use. She winced at the pain but did not scream. It looked into her eyes and smiled, and then it dragged her to the wall. Ogre dropped her at its feet and waited to see if she would try to fight again, but when she made no attempt to stand, it picked her up by her shirt and pressed her back against the wall. She screamed viciously as the heat of the electricity burned her back like a branding iron. She tried to kick at Ogre to force it to drop her, but her struggling caused the pain to flow faster. There was no way she was going to be able to take much more of it, but she continued to fight to stay alive. Ogre was in her face now.

"No one can match my power," it said, "No one can overcome me. No mortal can ever harness my power. Your brother was pathetic, letting himself die to keep you alive. And here you are, dying anyway. You lose, and I gain more power! Now, I shall devour your eternal soul and consume your mortal flesh."

"You've made a mistake," Bobbie grunted having become ignorant to her pain, "No matter how many sun rises you've seen, you're still mortal as well!"

She lifted her feet up and kicked Ogre in the chest, sending him careening into the wall at the other end. They both hit the ground hard, and there would be no getting up for a while. The barrier had fallen as well, and the last things Bobbie saw were three distorted shadows running towards her.

"Wake up, Bobbie," Hwoarang said shaking the girl in his arms, "C'mon get up. You won!"

She opened her eyes and tried to stand, but couldn't move an inch. Hwoarang pulled her arm around his shoulders, and Jin ran over and got the other side. Bobbie tried to speak, but she couldn't form sound for her words. Hwoarang and Jin carried her over to the bench and laid her down. That last shock immobilized her body temporarily, so she couldn't go against them. Hwoarang got her to sit up when Lei brought her some water, which she drank down greedily. Her clothes were torn everywhere from the many times she hit the wall, and the wind mercilessly bit at her wounds. She finally gained enough strength to speak.

"I have to get back in there," she whispered, "It's not over yet. It's still able to fight."

"But you're not," Hwoarang insisted, "Let one of us take care of this. It would be easier if we took it down all together."

"No, Hwoarang. Ogre is fighting by tournament rules, and it's only fair that I do so, too. I can still fight, and it's weaker now than it was; we should be evenly matched now."

"An electric barrier wall is in sync with tournament rules?" Jin asked her.

Bobbie didn't answer. She stood up slowly and limped back towards the ring. She herself was weaker than she thought, and she fell to one knee gasping for breath. Jin and Hwoarang rushed to her. Hwoarang tried to persuade her to sit back down, but Jin intervened.

"She can't give up now, Hwoarang," he said, making himself a crutch for Bobbie, "she's come too far. Think about what you would do if you were in her shoes. What would you do?"

Hwoarang said nothing. He just reached over and took Bobbie's other arm and helped her to the ring. Once there, she crawled up into the ring and sat Indian style.

Turning to the guys, she said, "I can use this time to concentrate on regaining some of my strength. Hwoarang, stay with me. Jin, you and Lei move as far away from the ing as possible. Chances are it won't put the wall back up after that last strike, and that would make you guys vulnerable to unguided debris and the like."

"Just be careful," Jin said.

"I will."

"Both of you," he added.

Hwoarang nodded as Jin went back to where they had been and sat on the bench. He was tired; he hadn't slept in two days, and it was finally catching up with him. He just hoped he could stay conscious long enough to see the fight.

Let's go, beast, Bobbie thought as she continued to regain power, you can't lie there forever. Her eyes popped open when she sensed it moving. Her strength was up as high as it would go, so she stood and, removing her damaged sneakers, took a stance. That's it, big guy. We finish this now. But Ogre never stood. There was a great trembling like an earthquake beneath her feet as Ogre's body levitated off the ground to an upright position. It spread its arms and legs out and threw its head back letting out a ferocious roar of anger. It put its hands together and then pulled them apart, directing the cement floor of the ring to split open beneath Bobbie. She couldn't maintain her balance because the ground was shaking so much, and her foot slipped into the crevice up to her ankle. The quake then subsided, but when Bobbie tried to free herself, Ogre clapped his hands back together, closing the crevice on her ankle. She screamed in agony as the razor-sharp cement pieces pierced her bare foot and the closing walls began to crack the bones in her ankle. Ogre relaxed its hands when it saw that Bobbie was going nowhere. It saw Hwoarang standing at ringside and the other two headed that way, and it was determined not to be interrupted by these pests. It sent a fiery ball of electricity towards them and made contact with Lei. He was sent flying back to the bench, turning it into splinters. Jin had no choice but to go back and help him. Ogre decided that Hwoarang was not worth his energy.

"Now," Ogre said, walking closer to its prey, "to finish this. With two Phantom Warriors, I shall be incomparable! I have earned the right to take your life!"

"Hold everything!" a voice from the Mishima building said, "You'll need a witness, won't you, O Great One? Such a pleasure for you to be here with us."

Ogre turned away from Bobbie and to the visitor. "You are Heihachi Mishima, no?" it asked gravely, "The man who wishes to harness my power and use it for himself. No mere man can defeat me, and none of your little toys can keep me bound. I bare the power of ten thousand upon ten thousand fighters from all over the world and nearly every era of human existence. If you believe you can hold me, come to me and prove it."

Bobbie took this opportunity to chisel her way out of this trap with her switchblade as Heihachi waltzed to the ring with pride. When he was close enough to satisfy Ogre, it reached out and pulled the old man close to its face as it prepared the orb he used to absorb souls.

"So, you want my power, do you?" it asked the bewildered man, "You can have it—once you're a part of me!"

It thrust the pink orb into Heihachi's chest and forced his soul to leave its vessel and enter Ogre's body. Then it placed its hand around Heihachi's neck, chanted under its breath, and pulled the body into his being. It turned back to Bobbie, who had finally broke free from the crevice. Hwoarang jumped into the ring and helped Bobbie to her feet.

"Prepare to witness the most spectacular event ever to be seen by human eyes!" it gloated, "Now I have enough power to become my true entity!"

It laughed a deep, baritone laugh and raised its hands to the sky. Lightning fell like rain from the heavens to its fingertips, and it levitated itself into the sky again.

A horrible and awesome transformation took place. Ogre's skin began to bubble and peel like a snake shedding its skin. Its teeth grew twice as large as they were before. Horns grew out of its head, which was now like that of a lion. Its left hand grew longer and clawed as eagle's talons, and its right hand was the body of a large, venomous snake. Its feet were as crocodiles' feet. It grew a tail that was as a Komodo dragon's tail and wings that were as bats'. Overall, the new Ogre was at least seven feet tall and stronger than ever.

"Behold!" it bellowed, in an even deeper voice, "True Ogre! And now, for my treat!"

Bobbie struggled out of Hwoarang's arms, pushed him away, and prepared to defend herself. She still had strength enough to fight a little more. Ogre advanced slowly, and Bobbie moved backwards, hobbling on one foot. Ogre began to take swings at her, but it seemed that its new body had made it slower. Bobbie went to kick it in the face with her good foot, but it was caught in mid-kick. She was left on her damaged foot, so she began doing spin kicks with it to get it to let go. Her foot crunching against its face made the injury worse. She felt the bone fragments sticking out of her ankle as she limped away. Ogre was getting frustrated. It charged at her head on, but she somersaulted over and landed behind it. The beast then swiped her feet out from under her with its tail, and then it flew up in the air. Its mouth opened wide, and Bobbie saw the blazing inferno just in time to get out of the way. I think now's the time to use my attack I'd been saving, she thought, otherwise I won't be able to beat it, but I need to draw energy from somewhere—or someone. Bobbie stood up, and she spread her feet shoulder's width apart and crossed her arms in an X shape over her chest.

"Hwoarang, get up and help me."

She directed him to place his hands over hers, and she closed her eyes and spoke something in Swahili, and a blue aura encircled their bodies. She became cold as death as her very spirit began to emerge.

"Hwoarang," she whispered, "one of us is going to die from this."

"Now's not a good time to tell me that."

Hwoarang didn't understand what was going on. Bobbie's chanting echoed throughout the arena, and that aura shone so brightly that it knocked out Ogre's barrier of darkness around the arena. He held her tight as his own energy began to pass to her. Then he heard Ogre speak.

"You are crazy!" it said to Bobbie, "You wouldn't use that attack on me. You couldn't possibly believe you could defeat me with it. That attack would kill you and the boy before it ever scratches me! Are you listening!"

"I can use it, and I will," Bobbie answered, her voice sounding like a chorus, "It can defeat you, otherwise you wouldn't be so eager to talk me out of it. Surely you're not tying to save us? Your days of tyranny are over. I have the ability to—"

She let out a blood-curdling scream and began to convulse within the aura. Hwoarang watched in terror as each of Bobbie's old scars ripped themselves open, and blood streamed down her body and to the ring floor. The flow of blood never appeared to slow down, but it seemed to be speeding up. She was dying!

"No!" Hwoarang yelled, "Bobbie!"

He tried to pull her back, but again he was knocked out of the ring. He attempted to get back in, but Jin caught him in an arm-lock and forced him into submission.

"Let me go, Kazama!" he protested, "Damnit! Let go of me!"

"There's nothing you can do, Hwoarang!" Jin yelled back, "If you try to stop her now, you'll guarantee her death! So it won't be any different than if she carried it out! Plus, she took a considerable amount of energy from you to execute it!"

"No! There's a chance! Let go!"

Jin was losing his grip on the Korean youth, but just when he was about to let go, a hand reached over his shoulder and pressed the pressure point at the base of Hwoarang's neck.

"No!" he gasped, "Bob…bie!" then he fell.

Jin glanced over and saw it was Lei. He looked miserable.

"You had to, man," Jin said trying to comfort him, "He shouldn't have to watch her die."

"I know," Lei mumbled fighting the lump in his throat, "I know."

"Now I lay me down to sleep," Bobbie prayed weeping, "I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I shall die upon this day, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

"How amazing that a child's prayer gives me such peace. And now, Ogre, the moment of truth! My spirit is ready to go forth and kill you from within!"

"Your spirit is weak!" Ogre growled, "It cannot harm me!"

"We shall soon see!"

Her spirit walked forth from her bleeding body freely and without hesitation. The shell remained standing within the aura as the spirit slowly took a stance and waited.

"Are you ready?" she taunted, "This one's called: 'Spiritual Deliverance!'"

At that, the spirit went on a rampage. Several times it passed through Ogre's body, causing it to whine a little. It tried swat at the spirit, but it would not be stopped.

"Stop!" Bobbie commanded. The spirit stopped inside Ogre's body, "Now, 'Free the Spirit!'"

Bright beams of light began to shoot through the beast's body as the spirit appeared to be blowing up.

"Return!" Bobbie ordered.

The spirit quickly exited Ogre and harshly slammed back into its own body. Bobbie took large gasps of breath when her spirit returned. Ogre vanished in the blaze of fire, and Bobbie gave a sigh of relief.

"I've done it!" she said to herself, "Danny said I couldn't control it, but I did! It's over now."

She turned to leave, but a deep and angry growl made her turn back. The smoke cleared away and revealed a large crater where the center if the ring use to be and a very mad Ogre standing in the middle of it.

"It can't be! It just can't be! How could he have survived? That was all I had left. I'm so sorry Danny. I have nothing left to give."

She was weak from the fatigue of the attack and the cost to use it—the old wounds were still bleeding. Ogre had made its way out of the crater and was now standing in front of her. She fell weakly to her hands and knees. Filled with rage, Ogre reached down and wrapped its clawed hand around the girl's neck and lifted her above its head. It was surprised to see that she still had strength to struggle.

"Foolish girl!" it said, "Even I told you it wouldn't work. Not that it matters now. Finally! A taste of true power! Die, Warrior!"

Bobbie refused to die. Not yet. She was going to win! Ogre tightened its grip, causing her to scream out. Breathing was making her tired, and she couldn't handle it much longer. She felt herself go limp and sleep was taking over.

"No…I…gotta…stay awake!" she gasped, "It…can't be o…ver yet!"

"It's over! None of this will ever happen again!"

Now Jin was feeling guilty. Was I foolish to hold him back? What if he could have…He couldn't complete the thought. Hwoarang had recovered quickly from the pressure point and walked calmly back to the ring as if he were being called back. Ogre had Bobbie in its grasp; she wasn't going to last much longer. I know her attack worked, he thought, it just needs some stalled time. He jumped back into the ring thinking of the possibilities of getting tossed out for a third time, but knowing he'd just get back up again.

"I think it's my turn, now," he insisted, causing the beast to turn his head.

Ogre lowered Bobbie back to ring-level, but it maintained its grip as it faced its challenger; "You wish for death still? Over eighty percent of your strength went to this first worthless attempt. No one can defeat me in my true form! I am all powerful!"

"I bet that will get boring," Hwoarang said without expression, "Now, are you going to fight me, or are you going to hide behind one victory?"

"You shall pay for your mockery!" Ogre sneered as it walked towards the young Korean, dragging Bobbie behind him.

Bobbie began to move in its hold…she was still fighting death. She looked up long enough to see what was going on.

"Hwoarang…" she gasped.

Ogre tossed Bobbie at Hwoarang's feet, hoping he would lose his focus and simply forfeit, but Hwoarang made no such move. He glanced down at her for a brief moment then turned his complete attention to the creature.

"I won't need to use much against you," it said.

"Lets go!" Hwoarang insisted.

Ogre made a charge for the boy with its snake arm reared back. Hwoarang didn't budge. He remained standing in the line of fire, and just as Ogre thrust its arm forward, he caught it by the base of the snakehead and ripped it off. Oh, it really isn't using any power. Ogre howled in pain and anger and charged again. And now to take the bull by the horns, he thought, so to speak. Ogre angled its horns to run Hwoarang through, and he prepared himself for impact. He literally caught the beast by its horns. Ogre began to shove Hwoarang to the edge of the ring so that it would have the greater advantage. Once at the edge, it used all its strength to hurdle the Korean youth over its head, smashing him into the ring floor. Hwoarang dug himself out of the rubble and rolled away just as Ogre attempted to crush him under its monstrous feet. It then took flight (as it had done earlier to incinerate Bobbie) and sent out a breath of fire towards the teen. It deliberately missed him and trapped all of them in a ring of fire. The heat was intense, and Hwoarang was becoming short of breath with the smell of sulfur filling the air. Bobbie began to stir again as the flames began to lick at her body. Covering his face with a torn piece of his shirt, Hwoarang made his way over to her and pulled her away from the ring's edge. Ogre found the opportunity to catch Hwoarang off guard and finally managed to wrap its large hand around him and pin him to the ground. It regenerated its left arm and held it in the boy's face.

"You fool!" it bellowed, "Your feeble attempts to defeat me have all failed! I know everything about you and all of your attacks. Each time you attack me, I can predict it…just like your master! It's all over!"

Hwoarang laughed at the creature; "Yes, it's all over…" he groaned, "but not for me."

Suddenly, the beast began to convulse in violent spasms. Ogre's skin was moving from the inside, and hand- and face-shaped objects began to push away at the monster like rubber. The human souls within it were fighting to break free! It tossed Hwoarang aside as it attempted to regain control of them, but it had become considerably weaker from the inferno attack.

"What have you done to me!" it cried pointing at Bobbie, "What have you done! Ahhh!"

Bobbie was able to sit up and look at the beast as it was being torn apart by his own victims. Hand and face imprints were all over him. It was a grotesque sight, but it made Bobbie understand the power and effect of her attack. It literally attacks from the inside out. Suddenly, in a flash of colored light, Ogre exploded for real.

When the smoke cleared, several little white balls of light fell to the ground. For each one that touched the ground, a body appeared for it. These were the lost masters! Bobbie was overwhelmed. She just couldn't stay awake any longer. She took one breath of victory and then she laid back down and let sleep take over.

The explosion had sent Hwoarang out of the ring again. He had hit the wall hard, knocking the wind out of him, but he endured it. Jin and Lei were nowhere to be seen. He stood up and turned towards the ring and nearly fainted. Bodies lay everywhere, and some were just appearing from the little balls of light. Hwoarang stepped carefully over each one until he reached the ring. He found Bobbie lying on her side in a dry puddle of blood. He sat down to where he could roll her over into his lap, and when he did, he wept. Her face was torn up badly where the scars had reopened, and she was hardly recognizable. He pulled her close to himself and just hugged her like he was never letting go. Then he felt something. It was faint, but he knew it was real. Her heart was still beating! She was still alive!

"Bobbie," he said softly, "Hey, Bobbie, can you hear me? Bobbie?"

Her eyes opened slowly, and he smiled in relief.

"Hey," she managed tiredly, "Nice weather we're having, huh?"

"It's definitely something you don't see everyday."

"Are they alive?"

"Some are fully alive, it looks like. Some are hanging by a thread. Some are centuries old and need a proper burial."

"Then I can rest peacefully, that I can."

"No, don't leave again. Not like this, please. Stay with me."

"Don't ask me to stay in this horrible place," she pleaded, now weeping, "This is a painful and terrifying place. I hate it here."

"I don't want to be alone again."

"You selfish jerk…you won't be. Look."

Bobbie pointed behind Hwoarang to a man they both recognized.

"Master," Hwoarang said.

"Oh, Hwoarang," Bobbie laughed weakly, "you're a pitiful sight on a wonderful day. I'm glad you're here with me, but I'm so tired."

"Okay," Hwoarang said reluctantly, "You just lay here and sleep."

"Please don't cry. Pretend like you'll see me in the morning. It'll make it easier. Go ahead."

"Okay," he said again, "You sleep and get better, and I will see you in the morning, bright and early."

"6:00?"

"Sure. 6:00."

"Good night."

"Good night."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Bobbie curled up against Hwoarang's chest and died. He couldn't hold it in any longer, but he couldn't let it go either. He just sat there with her in his lap. Tears flowed silently down his face and onto hers. A voice spoke softly behind him, but he did not turn.

"Are you Hwoarang?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," He answered cleaning off his face, "and this is Bobbie Hunter…you know it's a lie what people say about the dead. They say they look peaceful and released. Where's the peace?"

"Bobbie is dead then," the voice said, "just as I feared. I don't know how many times I told her she wasn't ready."

Hwoarang lay Bobbie's body down and got ready to punch this guy's lights out, but when he turned around, he got a surprise of his own.

"You're her brother…you're Daniel Hunter."

"Yeah. You remembered," Daniel said, picking Bobbie up, "and it's best I take her back to the States."

The youth nodded and began to walk away.

"Hey, Korea," Daniel called him back, "here, take these. She would have wanted you to have them. Thank you for helping us find each other."

He tossed Bobbie's dog tags to Hwoarang and smiled warmly. Then he turned and left.

Hwoarang woke with a start. He was sweating all over and breathing heavily. He walked to the sink and splashed himself with water. "Another dream," he said to his reflection.

It had been a full year since the third KOIF tournament, but Hwoarang had been reliving it every night in his sleep. He would dream of holding Bobbie in his arms as she took her last breath, her beautiful face all cut open…that image haunted him even when he glanced at the dog tags lying on his dresser.

He was suffering from a sever case of sleep deprivation. Many nights he would refuse to sleep so that he wouldn't have to dream, but the nightmares just wouldn't stop. Finally, suggested by his master, Baek, Hwoarang took to walking around the block every afternoon to ease his mind. It soon became a familiar routine for him, and everybody on the way knew exactly when he would pass their corner.

One day, on one of his walks, he spotted a petite figure dressed in a ragged-out hooded shroud. He could tell it was a girl, and she sat with her back against the wall and her knees up to her chest beneath the shroud. It was unusual for one of the homeless to be on one of the emptiest blocks in Korea, and he felt a bit sorry for her. He stood in front of and looked downward upon her hoping she'd lookup, but she didn't budge. Hwoarang knelt down to face her, but the shadow of her hood made it impossible to see her face.

"Hey," he said softly, "are you lost?"

The hooded girl shook her head slowly.

"Where are you from?"

The girl looked up a little to allow Hwoarang to see a grin on the girl's face. That was all he had a chance see, for once he saw a little, the girl bolted passed him knocking him down. Hwoarang quickly got up and began chasing after her. She had a sinister laugh that made him mad as he followed. They came up on a long line of shops with large glass windows. I'll catch her reflection, he thought. He felt as if he were in slow motion as the little girl turned her face and allowed herself to cast an image on the glass. He blinked twice before she turned away. Could she be…?

"Hey, wait!" he called after her as she turned a corner to a dark ally.

Hwoarang stopped at the ally entrance and scanned the area. The hooded girl was not there. She couldn't have gone straight with the brick wall in the way. The only other way was up, and he looked that way just as a winged creature passed across the top of the buildings like an independent silhouette.

He was unable to sleep that night. He closed his eyes and began to think about his walk and the strange homeless figure on the street. The hooded girl reminded Hwoarang so much of…her. Who was she? Where did she come from? Sleep finally took over after a couple of hours of trying.

As he slept, a white figure flew into his opened window. It came in with blonde hair and a pair of beautiful wings but landed with dark black hair and wingless. She sat diligently one the bed next to Hwoarang and spoke to him through his dreams.

"Hwoarang," she whispered, "Hwoarang."

"Bobbie?" he mumbled, "Bobbie, is that you?"

"Yes."

"Am I dreaming?"

"Only if you want to be."

He felt her lips press against his. He reached out his hand to touch her face, but as he opened his eyes, she vanished with the blowing wind.

"Another dream…but it was so real."

He turned and looked out his window, but he saw nothing except a note sitting on his dresser simply titled, "I Love You."

The End