Author's note to readers: I do not own Tekken and haven't played Tekken 4
due to a money crisis and not being able to afford a PS2... However, rest
assure I do not earn any money doing this. Any problems, I hope you'll help
me correct myself. Read and Review!
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Hwoarang wiped a bead of sweat on his forehead and looked up. The chopper which left him and his platoon was long gone but somehow was still around for the sound of the propeller can be heard in a distance. The sun was scorching and he was sure he'll come back a few shades darker but, what the heck. That's the army's life for you. He looked up ahead but didn't see any sign of enemies.
'Boring...' he was resting on a tree and suddenly caught sight of a moving man. 'That's definitely NOT my platoon.' He thought and as graceful as a panther, jumped down from the tree, noiseless and sought through to the enemy's team - leaving HIS platoon and commander.
Not long after that, he can hear murmurs. "They don't know we're here." Said a voice.
"Assign units 2 and 5 to become a decoy and units 8 and 9 the main." Said another, presumably the general. "Get the landmines ready and we're out of here."
A landmine? Well, that wasn't a very good sign. 'Then, I'll just ambush them first before any of OUR men come close. Lessee...' Hwoarang looked around and located some of the enemy men and mentally estimated the numbers of people they have- which maximized to 20 soldiers. 'Way easy.' He thought and crawled to the 2 first preys.
Suddenly, he felt something rubbing against his side as he crawled. He looked down and saw his Desert Eagle. He frowned. More than anything, he hated the contraption. It didn't allow him any freedom to feel the rush in a fight. Only a moment of 'excitement' and then emptiness. He was a good shooter. A sniper specialist even. But, he still couldn't get used to using weapons but his legs and fists.
After a little pause of consideration, he shrugged off the idea of using his gun and confronted the 2 African men.
Suddenly, another man came rushing to the 2. "Sir." He whispered. "One of their man is missing." He reported. Hwoarang rolled his eyes. Busted.
"Detect him." Ordered the other, who looked to be their general.
"That's not necessary." A voice came from the bush and before the 3 men could even POINT their gun towards the source, Hwoarang delivered a graceful spinning kick, kicking the trio's faces and at the same time knock away their guns. At Hwoarang's camp,
"What?! He's not in his position?!" Boomed the Commander (Commander Foyer) to Hwoarang's so-called partner. "What have you been doin' son?! Takin' a damn nap?!! HUH?!!" Roger, Hwoarang's partner and rookie, gulped.
"Well, he disappeared as I turned my head sir."
Suddenly, they heard noises. "What the...?" The Commander stood and saw a familiar head amongst the tall grasses and a few gunshots can be heard. After a while, silence filled the air. "Everybody, stand ready!! There might be an ambush!"
"A little late, general." A voice answered and Hwoarang appeared from the thick, tall grass. "Taken care of them already." He smiled a lop sided grin.
"I'm gonna have you lashed when we get back." The Commander warned. Hwoarang just sighed tiredly and put one hand on his hip.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He said and pulled on a rope and from the grasses, 20 men were in a big heap, tied up and bruised. "But first, you ought to consider my motive," he replied, putting one foot on the men. Foyer looked like his vein was going to burst.
Back at Headquarters...
A man in his early 40's in a complete military suit looked down at the report handed to him that morning and looked up at General Foyer and Hwoarang. He sighed. "From the looks of things, Mr. Hwoarang over can be said a hero, Commander." Hwoarang smiled. "However..." the man continued.
'I hate it when you say that...' Hwoarang thought.
"Your action is without any consent to your commander. 50 lashes are to be put on you." He sighed and rubbed his temple. "And this is the 5th this month. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Hwoarang cleared his throat. "At least no one was scratched in out part and no one was killed on the enemy's. If not for my actions, many of our soldiers will be in a worse state from landmines. I am aware of the dangers but only through understanding the risks do I dare take the chance." He paused for awhile. "I will only ask for an enlightenment of the punishment."
The general nodded his head. "Well said." He looked at the report again. "Very well, Lieutenant. You are to be suspended for 2 weeks and your pay for this month will be deducted by 20%. Any more questions?"
Hwoarang shook his head. "Very well. You may leave." With that, Hwoarang saluted and left the room to his dorm. "And before that," Hwoarang turned. "Guns please."
"I don't carry one, sir." Hwoarang replied and went.
The general sighed. "What are we going to do with him?"
"Don't ask me general. He's a pain in the ass but at the same time, we can't afford to expel him." He sighed. "I really don't know... 'Guess this once-in-a-while suspension is the only way, sir." he saluted the general and left the room. The general took a file on his table and flipped through Hwoarang's details.
This young man was a mysterious fellow. He didn't have a surname and no family members. All they know about him is he is 21 years old, a Korean born and... a street punk.
They got him through another an ex-commander, Paul Phoenix - another pain in the ass. But, he resigned from the army himself. What they know was that Paul and Hwoarang both participated in the King of Iron Fist Tekken Tournament sponsored by a famous Japanese family. That's it.
Hwoarang has been in the army for almost 2 years and ever since his first mission, the outcome was sure to turn out as the event a few minutes ago. Any normal generals would have commit suicide dealing with the lad.
In Hwoarang's dorm, (he had a personal dorm as a 'gift' for an excellent performance in a rescue) he taking off his black-green vest and laid it on his bed. Next, was the bullet proof jacket. He looked at it and counted the bullets embedded on it. '9 bullets on my chest. Not bad.' He thought.
He took a towel and went to the bathroom, soaking down his spiked up hair and shampooed it. Being in the military doesn't allow him to have 'weird colored' hair and so had to be dyed - in which he hated. As he walked out of the bathroom, he saw someone else in his room. It was Roger. The guy was an okay person if not for his nosiness of minding in others' business all the time.
"I heard. Another suspension, huh?" He said sympathetically. "The last one was 6 months ago, right?"
"What do you want?" Hwoarang asked, drying his hair. Roger handed him a few hundred notes.
"As usual. The gang need ya' to buy them some stuff. Here's the list." He said, handing a piece of paper crammed full of orders.
Hwoarang smirked under the towel. "I'll think about it. I'm not suspended so I can go shopping." He said, grabbing some clothes and went back into the bathroom. He threw the soaked towel to a large pile of clothes. His dorm wasn't the cleanest place in the military base but, good enough to sleep in.
Roger smiled. "Just kidding. The guys asked me to send these to you. As a thank you."
"For what?" he asked from the bathroom.
Roger shrugged. "For saving us from the ambush earlier."
"No big deal. I just need some time outta here." He said and emerged from the bathroom in his typical dark blue tanktop, black jeans/pants and what surprised Roger most: orange hair. Roger's eyes went wide. He didn't recognize whoever was before him now.
He gulped. "Hwoarang?" he asked.
"What? You look like you just saw a ghost." Hwoarang said, amused.
"What did you do to your hair?" he pointed to Hwoarang's head.
"Shampooed it?" he walked past Roger to the door. "See ya next 2 weeks." He waved with 2 fingers, giving his back to his comrade. He went straight to the vehicle warehouse, collected his bike and zoomed to the city where he used to live in.
He smiled to himself as he recalled all the fights he has been through. A person with a menacing face suddenly popped up in his head. 'Jin Kazama... or was it Mishima?' he thought. As he was passing through an alley, he heard loud cheers. He looked at his watch. It was almost 6.30. 'Wonder what's the commotion.' He thought, parked his bike and went to the alley.
To Be Continued...
^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^
Hwoarang wiped a bead of sweat on his forehead and looked up. The chopper which left him and his platoon was long gone but somehow was still around for the sound of the propeller can be heard in a distance. The sun was scorching and he was sure he'll come back a few shades darker but, what the heck. That's the army's life for you. He looked up ahead but didn't see any sign of enemies.
'Boring...' he was resting on a tree and suddenly caught sight of a moving man. 'That's definitely NOT my platoon.' He thought and as graceful as a panther, jumped down from the tree, noiseless and sought through to the enemy's team - leaving HIS platoon and commander.
Not long after that, he can hear murmurs. "They don't know we're here." Said a voice.
"Assign units 2 and 5 to become a decoy and units 8 and 9 the main." Said another, presumably the general. "Get the landmines ready and we're out of here."
A landmine? Well, that wasn't a very good sign. 'Then, I'll just ambush them first before any of OUR men come close. Lessee...' Hwoarang looked around and located some of the enemy men and mentally estimated the numbers of people they have- which maximized to 20 soldiers. 'Way easy.' He thought and crawled to the 2 first preys.
Suddenly, he felt something rubbing against his side as he crawled. He looked down and saw his Desert Eagle. He frowned. More than anything, he hated the contraption. It didn't allow him any freedom to feel the rush in a fight. Only a moment of 'excitement' and then emptiness. He was a good shooter. A sniper specialist even. But, he still couldn't get used to using weapons but his legs and fists.
After a little pause of consideration, he shrugged off the idea of using his gun and confronted the 2 African men.
Suddenly, another man came rushing to the 2. "Sir." He whispered. "One of their man is missing." He reported. Hwoarang rolled his eyes. Busted.
"Detect him." Ordered the other, who looked to be their general.
"That's not necessary." A voice came from the bush and before the 3 men could even POINT their gun towards the source, Hwoarang delivered a graceful spinning kick, kicking the trio's faces and at the same time knock away their guns. At Hwoarang's camp,
"What?! He's not in his position?!" Boomed the Commander (Commander Foyer) to Hwoarang's so-called partner. "What have you been doin' son?! Takin' a damn nap?!! HUH?!!" Roger, Hwoarang's partner and rookie, gulped.
"Well, he disappeared as I turned my head sir."
Suddenly, they heard noises. "What the...?" The Commander stood and saw a familiar head amongst the tall grasses and a few gunshots can be heard. After a while, silence filled the air. "Everybody, stand ready!! There might be an ambush!"
"A little late, general." A voice answered and Hwoarang appeared from the thick, tall grass. "Taken care of them already." He smiled a lop sided grin.
"I'm gonna have you lashed when we get back." The Commander warned. Hwoarang just sighed tiredly and put one hand on his hip.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He said and pulled on a rope and from the grasses, 20 men were in a big heap, tied up and bruised. "But first, you ought to consider my motive," he replied, putting one foot on the men. Foyer looked like his vein was going to burst.
Back at Headquarters...
A man in his early 40's in a complete military suit looked down at the report handed to him that morning and looked up at General Foyer and Hwoarang. He sighed. "From the looks of things, Mr. Hwoarang over can be said a hero, Commander." Hwoarang smiled. "However..." the man continued.
'I hate it when you say that...' Hwoarang thought.
"Your action is without any consent to your commander. 50 lashes are to be put on you." He sighed and rubbed his temple. "And this is the 5th this month. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Hwoarang cleared his throat. "At least no one was scratched in out part and no one was killed on the enemy's. If not for my actions, many of our soldiers will be in a worse state from landmines. I am aware of the dangers but only through understanding the risks do I dare take the chance." He paused for awhile. "I will only ask for an enlightenment of the punishment."
The general nodded his head. "Well said." He looked at the report again. "Very well, Lieutenant. You are to be suspended for 2 weeks and your pay for this month will be deducted by 20%. Any more questions?"
Hwoarang shook his head. "Very well. You may leave." With that, Hwoarang saluted and left the room to his dorm. "And before that," Hwoarang turned. "Guns please."
"I don't carry one, sir." Hwoarang replied and went.
The general sighed. "What are we going to do with him?"
"Don't ask me general. He's a pain in the ass but at the same time, we can't afford to expel him." He sighed. "I really don't know... 'Guess this once-in-a-while suspension is the only way, sir." he saluted the general and left the room. The general took a file on his table and flipped through Hwoarang's details.
This young man was a mysterious fellow. He didn't have a surname and no family members. All they know about him is he is 21 years old, a Korean born and... a street punk.
They got him through another an ex-commander, Paul Phoenix - another pain in the ass. But, he resigned from the army himself. What they know was that Paul and Hwoarang both participated in the King of Iron Fist Tekken Tournament sponsored by a famous Japanese family. That's it.
Hwoarang has been in the army for almost 2 years and ever since his first mission, the outcome was sure to turn out as the event a few minutes ago. Any normal generals would have commit suicide dealing with the lad.
In Hwoarang's dorm, (he had a personal dorm as a 'gift' for an excellent performance in a rescue) he taking off his black-green vest and laid it on his bed. Next, was the bullet proof jacket. He looked at it and counted the bullets embedded on it. '9 bullets on my chest. Not bad.' He thought.
He took a towel and went to the bathroom, soaking down his spiked up hair and shampooed it. Being in the military doesn't allow him to have 'weird colored' hair and so had to be dyed - in which he hated. As he walked out of the bathroom, he saw someone else in his room. It was Roger. The guy was an okay person if not for his nosiness of minding in others' business all the time.
"I heard. Another suspension, huh?" He said sympathetically. "The last one was 6 months ago, right?"
"What do you want?" Hwoarang asked, drying his hair. Roger handed him a few hundred notes.
"As usual. The gang need ya' to buy them some stuff. Here's the list." He said, handing a piece of paper crammed full of orders.
Hwoarang smirked under the towel. "I'll think about it. I'm not suspended so I can go shopping." He said, grabbing some clothes and went back into the bathroom. He threw the soaked towel to a large pile of clothes. His dorm wasn't the cleanest place in the military base but, good enough to sleep in.
Roger smiled. "Just kidding. The guys asked me to send these to you. As a thank you."
"For what?" he asked from the bathroom.
Roger shrugged. "For saving us from the ambush earlier."
"No big deal. I just need some time outta here." He said and emerged from the bathroom in his typical dark blue tanktop, black jeans/pants and what surprised Roger most: orange hair. Roger's eyes went wide. He didn't recognize whoever was before him now.
He gulped. "Hwoarang?" he asked.
"What? You look like you just saw a ghost." Hwoarang said, amused.
"What did you do to your hair?" he pointed to Hwoarang's head.
"Shampooed it?" he walked past Roger to the door. "See ya next 2 weeks." He waved with 2 fingers, giving his back to his comrade. He went straight to the vehicle warehouse, collected his bike and zoomed to the city where he used to live in.
He smiled to himself as he recalled all the fights he has been through. A person with a menacing face suddenly popped up in his head. 'Jin Kazama... or was it Mishima?' he thought. As he was passing through an alley, he heard loud cheers. He looked at his watch. It was almost 6.30. 'Wonder what's the commotion.' He thought, parked his bike and went to the alley.
To Be Continued...