I do not own Hokuto no Ken or South Park.

Warning: As this is a South Park fic, it will contain offensive content that some will easily take offence to. If any of you are easily triggered by such, please do not read for your sake.

You have been warned.

Chapter I: The Jew and martial artist

Having procured a staff of sorts from the weapons shop tended to by Clyde - which was a simple stick barely longer than her arm, she then proceeded to add Clyde, Scott, Kenny and Eric as friends on Facebook, making five friends she added in a single afternoon. Though she hardly thought of it as a weapon to be used in melee, it would have to do, as she could not get any other from the shop due to her 'level' being too low to permit it.

She made a few swings and thrusts with the stick, finding that while it may not sustain consistent punishment, it could at least last for a while before having to be replaced.

Eric then proceeded to tell her, "Alright Douchebag, now that you have procured yourself a weapon, it is time to teach you how to fight."

Smirking widely, Eric then said, "I want you to take your weapon, and with the bravery of a noble knight - beat up Clyde."

He pointed to the young boy tending the weapons shop, causing said boy to blink.

"What?" Clyde asked, which Eric ignored.

"Kick Clyde's ass, new kid!" Shouted Eric, causing Clyde to look at him in confusion.

"What did I do?" Asked Clyde.

"I'm the king Clyde, and the King wishes to be amused!" Eric snapped, then turned to Rachel, "Go on, new kid. Kick his ass."

Shrugging, Rachel moved into the designated sparring ring with Clyde, noticing his frustrated face as she levelled a steady gaze at the warrior opposite her. She took her staff, Clyde took his wooden sword, and both stood poised to strike the other in but a split second.

Clyde took the initiative, swinging his blade directly at Rachel's face. She dodged it, albeit by a slight margin, before proceeding to whack Clyde at his abdomen, causing him to stumble back as he clutched his side in pain.

"Oh hell yeah!" Eric cheered, "Clyde's your bitch!"

"That was fucking cheap, you bastard," Hissed Clyde, causing Rachel's lips to quirk slightly.

Roaring a warcry, Clyde rushed at Rachel again. Knowing that using the same technique again would be redundant, so he instead caught the blow with her staff, forcing the both of them into a standstill. With Clyde being stronger, however, Rachel was forced back, and it was her turn to feel pain as she was hit in the arm by Clyde's wooden sword.

Rubbing her throbbing arm, she scowled at Clyde, who gave her an arrogant, triumphant expression in return.

I swear, you're gonna get it, Clyde, Thought Rachel as she prepared to attack once again.

"Clyde's wearing armour," Shouted Eric, "To hurt him, you gotta hit him as hard as you can!"

A slight grin then adorned Rachel's lips. That can certainly be done.

Rushing at Clyde, she struck at Clyde, her staff being swiftly blocked by Clyde. Using the other end of the staff, she butted Clyde near his armpit, causing him to stagger slightly, before she reared back a fist and struck Clyde directly in the face, injuring his nose with an audible crack and drawing blood as red droplets trickled down from his nostrils.

"Ah!" Clyde faltered, holding his nose.

"Oh shit dude!" Eric said, clapping happily, "I think I see blood! Fucking nice brah! That's exactly what you do to guys with armour like that!"

As Clyde struggled to regain his bearings, Rachel began to smile broadly, loving the feeling of adrenaline rushing through her veins as she engaged in combat. She had to admit, it was fun to play, this make-believe medieval game.

"The key to winning a fight is not to get hit in the balls," Eric said to Rachel, "Clyde, it's your turn to attack. Douchebag, protect your balls."

Rachel snorted in amusement, even as Clyde attacked once again. She exerted little effort in blocking Clyde's attacks, since they were not very strong to begin with.

"That's what I'm talking about! Dude, you're already way better than Clyde!" Eric said, "Alright, time to use your heroic powers!"

The fuck? Thought Rachel, who turned to Eric for an answer.

Rolling his eyes, Eric then told her, "Come on, new kid. Think. Every RPG has heroes who use some sort of heroic powers, aside from the basic attacks, you know?"

Rachel nodded, then tried to think of an adequate 'power' to use in her fight with Clyde. Suddenly, an idea flashed into her mind; grabbing a nearby sock and a pebble, she placed the rock in the sock, then swinging it a few times, she loosed the rock from the sock as a projectile was loosed from a sling, which hit Clyde directly in the abdomen, knocking the air out of him and causing him to stumble in agony.

Clyde glared at Rachel, who then flashed a small, kind smile as she extended a hand, which he took as he took a piece of cloth from the other hand to press against his bleeding nose.

"Ha ha ha! Dude, that was awesome!" Eric laughed boisterously, "You were all like, wham! And Clyde was like 'Nooo!' Ha ha, that was sweet!"

Rachel sighed heavily, beginning to develop a deep dislike for the fat boy.

"Okay, okay," Eric said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "You've proved yourself worthy Douchebag. Come inside the war tent and I shall let you see the relic."

Eric then proceeded to make his way inside the tent while the others dispersed, Clyde leaning on the table of the weapons shop as he held the handkerchief to his nose to stop the bleeding.

Rachel then followed Eric inside the tent, and as she walked inside, she could make out objects of all sorts lying about, from weapons to drawings of various kinds, though one stood out from the rest, with the top of the tent having an opening to allow light to shine on the sacred relic that Eric talked about.

Which was nothing more than a single, unimpressive stick lying on a pillow, which rested on a raised dais.

Rachel frowned at this.

This is the relic? She thought in exasperation, Cartman certainly likes to over-exaggerate.

"There it is, the reason why Humans and Elves are locked in a never ending war. The relic for which both Human and Elf are willing to die. The stick of Truth," Said Cartman, who turned to Rachel with a serious expression on his face.

"Just two days ago, we took back the Stick from the Elves. Our Kingdom was dying, but now it thrives! For whoever controls the Stick, controls the universe."

Eric then turned around, shielding his eyes as Rachel looked at him in confusion.

"Don't gaze at it for too long! For its power is too much for mere mortals to look at!" He shouted, before both proceeded to leave the tent.

"Now that you've seen the Stick of Truth, let's discuss your dues," Said Eric, "Being a member of my Kingdom costs nine ninety-five for the first week, four dollars of which is tax deductible..."

Rachel inwardly groaned, the desire to simply sock Eric in the face becoming overwhelmingly tempting.

I swear, one more ridiculous order I hear from him and I'll... Thought Rachel, before she heard Butters rushing towards the both of them, shouting, "Alarm! Alarm!"

"Butters, what's going on?" Eric asked.

"The Elves are attacking!" Butters said, and immediately Eric's face became serious.

"Oh my God, Defensive positions!" Eric ordered, and shaking her head, Rachel rushed towards where the Elves were attacking, preparing to defend Kupa Keep and the Stick of Truth.

This day just keeps getting better and better, Mused Rachel, even as she prepared for battle.

IIOII

"Alright, that should do it," Wendy said with satisfaction at Kenshiro's new clothes.

Kenshiro inspected herself in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction at her new attire that Wendy had helped her to choose.

Her clothing was fairly simple; slim-fit blue jeans and a red sweatshirt that fir her body perfectly, accentuating her curves and muscles to show her toned feminine figure. For footwear, she wore long, black leather boots, capable of keeping her feet warm without restricting her movements with comfortable, warm socks underneath. Her undergarments were sports undergarments, capable of covering her private parts and yet capable of accommodating her expanding bulk.

At first, Wendy took Kenshiro to her house to offer her some clothes, but as she inspected her inventory and as Kenshiro tried them on, she found that they were too small for Kenshiro's body, which made her taller and larger than most girls her age. Moreover, she did not have the money on hand to simply buy new clothes for Kenshiro. Asking her to wait in her house for a bit, Wendy went out, and after a few minutes, came back with a bag full of clothes.

Kenshiro knew not where the clothes came from, and frankly she did not want to know.

As Wendy watched Kenshiro appraise her outfit, she had to admit she was hot; the perfect balance struck between her feminine curves and toned muscles gave her the figure of an Olympics athlete, one that girls would willingly die for. She also admitted that she was pretty darn tall for girls her age; with a physical age of ten, her meticulously conditioned body gave her the height of a twelve-year old, which served to somehow enhance her appeal even more.

Not that she was romantically interested in her - she already had a boyfriend, but she was certain quite a few boys would want to grab her attention and vie to have the honour of being her boyfriend - and perhaps a few lesbians.

She was, however, concerned about the seven scars she saw on her chest when she helped her dress; for some reason unknown to Wendy, Kenshiro had much difficulty wearing her new undergarments, as if she had never worn them in her entire life. The scars seemed horrendous, sticking out like miniature craters on her torso. Bizarrely, they were arranged in the pattern of the Big Dipper, which she had seen so many times in the starry night sky.

When asked how she obtained them, Kenshiro was exceptionally cryptic about it, preferring not to explain in detail, only saying that her former rival gave them to her.

Wendy was unsatisfied at that answer, but she could tell Kenshiro would not willingly divulge such facts, and so settled to leave the matter be.

As she settled the payment for Kenshiro's clothes, Wendy said to Kenshiro, "Well, that's everything. If you need anything, just give me a holler and I'll see what I can do for you. Here, I'll give you my phone number."

Taking a piece of paper and a pen, she jotted down her phone number and handed it to her, which she took with a look of confusion.

"Actually, what is a mobile phone?" Asked Kenshiro.

The look of incredulity Wendy gave her seemed quite funny to Kenshiro, especially when she moved to answer her question, only to hear a ringing sound emnating from her pocket. Kenshiro looked around for the source of it, finding it to be a black metal box of sorts that Wendy took from her pocket.

With a look of alarm, she said, "Oh shit, I'm late for the girls' meeting! Sorry, but I gotta now! See you!"

"Wait, I do not even know what must I do with this phone number..." Kenshiro said but trailed off at the end, seeing that Wendy was already gone, "Damn, she's already gone."

Sighing heavily, Kenshiro decided to exit Wendy's house, electing to continue her exploration of the mountain town she ended up in.

Though it was a far cry from being a full-fledged city, it was, in Kenshiro's opinion, the closest thing to civilisation she had encountered so far; it was more vibrant and full of life than any place he encountered in the barren wasteland he was so used to. Even the city her late love Yuria used to govern did not have the sense of peace and tranquillity this town of South Park had.

Rin, Bat, if only you could see this, just once... Thought Kenshiro as she walked along the streets, taking in the scenery before him.

It was not long however, before he stumbled upon a scene happening before him.

In front of him, he saw two boys, one crippled and wearing crutches on his arms, wearing a paper hat and a green cape on his shoulders, no older than ten years of age; the other, a head taller than the bespectacled boy, about twelve years of age as Kenshiro deduced, and who was obviously picking on him.

The taller bully seemed to derive pleasure from tormenting the boy before him, pinching his face, punching him, doing whatever he wished to the boy as if he were his personal slave meant to pleasure him in whatever way he desired.

"Ha ha! Whatcha gonna do now, little cripple?" Taunted the bully, even as his victim pleaded for mercy.

"P-Please, stop it!" Said the younger boy.

"Oh yeah? Make me then! Or do you believe someone's gonna stop me?" Said the bully, who proceeded to rear back his fist for another go.

Before he could execute a punch however, he felt someone grab his arm, and before he could react, he felt pressure on his arm, followed by an intense pain that coursed through his arm like a hot steel rod meeting his flesh.

The bully's immediate reaction was to writhe and scream in agony as he clutched his arm, not knowing what could have caused such pain from a simple squeeze of the arm. His eyes darted around to find the perpetrator responsible, but when he laid eyes on Kenshiro, his face became white with fear, and instantly any concerns about his arm evaporated like mist.

Kenshiro's blue eyes directed a steely gaze at the bully, the anger he felt towards the bully conveyed in full to the trembling boy before her, and though his facial expression betrayed no emotion, both the bully and the crippled boy could tell she was incensed.

"Do you derive pleasure from tormenting the weak, you dog?" Kenshiro said to the bully, her angry gaze increasing in intensity as the bully tried to stand up.

"W-What do ya mean, I'm a dog!?" Asked the bully, "Other than that, who the hell are you!?"

"Your disciplinary teacher," Stated Kenshiro, "It is time someone taught you proper manners."

"Why you little... how about this!?"

The bully took a pocket knife from his pocket, and holding out the edge of the blade to Kenshiro, he said, "You still wanna act brave, you bastard!?"

"Use your knife carefully," Said Kenshiro, who cracked her knuckles, "If you miss, your arm will be injured."

"S-Shut up!" Shouted the bully, who threw the knife at Kenshiro, aiming it at her face.

Kenshiro's response was to grab the knife between her middle and index finger, effortlessly stopping the knife before it could strike true.

Hokuto Shinken: Nishi Shinkuu Ha

(二指真空把)

Two-Finger Nil-Space Grasp

And with a flick of her wrist, she sent the knife flying back towards the bully, which embedded itself in his arm, causing him to scream in pain as blood began trickling out of his wound.

"H-Holy shit!" Gasped the cripple in surprise.

"Ah! What the fuck! What the fuck!?" Cried the bully.

"You had better get that arm treated quickly," Said Kenshiro, uncaring of the fact the bully was bleeding, "And I suggest you do no such thing again, lest you face the wrath of my fists."

The bully was quick to get the message as he quickly fled from her, all the while cursing about his wounded arm and the 'scary bitch' that caused his injury.

Kenshiro then turned his attention to the crippled boy, who while bore a few bruises here and there, was in no serious condition. Time would remedy and heal his wounds.

"I-I gotta say I n-never seen someone that afraid or who runs so f-f-fast," Said the crippled boy, helped up by a hand from Kenshiro, "My name's J-Jimmy, I am known as the Bard, what's yours?"

"Kenshiro," Said the woman with seven scars, "Though you may call me Ken."

"Kenshiro? That's a w-weird name for a g-girl," Said Jimmy, "I've never s-seen you around here before, you new?"

Kenshiro nodded.

"Might I ask what is with your clothing?" Asked Kenshiro, "Perhaps it may just be me, but I do not believe that is clothing one would normally wear in these parts."

"O-Oh, I see," Jimmy said, "Well then, I'll explain."

Harrumphing, Jimmy then began to explain in a poor pseudo-cultured accent, "We are in the middle of a n-never-ending war, my friend. For centuries, we Elves of Larnion have fought with the Humans of Kupa Keep for c-c-control of a single relic, the Stick of Truth. Constantly, blood is s-shed for possession of the relic, for the Stick of Truth allows its p-p-possessor to control the universe itself, bending it to his whim and fancy. These are dark times for the lands of Zaron, for a-always has the Stick changed hands, and always have people died to maintain possession of it."

Kenshiro nodded; judging by his strange attire and the poor mimicking of a different accent, she deduced that they were playing a make-believe medieval sort of game crafted from their wells of imagination. She had to admit, they were quite creative and thorough with creating the whole game.

Kenshiro said nothing despite her obvious confusion, even as Jimmy continued, "Just recently, the H-Humans have reclaimed the Stick from us and house it within their kingdom, but our f-f-forces already have been dispatched to retrieve it from K-Kupa Keep, and we have a p-p-plan to make sure we get it back."

"A relic, for which both Human and Elf and willing to die..." Kenshiro murmured, "A relic, which has caused nothing but division and strife, where the weak are constantly oppressed and devoid of salvation, where only the strong would prevail."

Surprised at this, Jimmy then said, "Y-yeah, it's unfortunate, but that is why the Stick of Truth has constantly c-changed hands almost every single day."

"Then perhaps it would be better if it did not exist at all," Said Kenshiro, a tone of finality in her voice, "I do not find centuries of bloodshed to be worth a single relic, even if it is an omnipotent one."

The seriousness in which Kenshiro uttered her words sent shivers down Jimmy's spine, more so when he saw the fire in Kenshiro's eyes, filled with anger and sadness to such a great degree that rendered Jimmy speechless, the words dying in his mouth.

"But might I ask that I see the Elven king?" Kenshiro asked, much to Jimmy's surprise.

"I-I can do that, but w-why?" Asked Jimmy, "Judging by what you said, I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with us."

"I was brought here by the heavens to perform a task," Said Kenshiro, "If I must involve myself in the conflict between the Elves and Humans, so be it."

"Uh.. O-Okay, just follow me and I'll t-take you to the Elven king," Said Jimmy, who beckoned Kenshiro to follow him.

"Oh, and b-by the way, what was that t-t-trick with the whole catching-knife-between fingers thing?" Asked Jimmy, curiosity in his voice.

"Nishi Shinkuu Ha, Two-Finger Nil-Space Grasp," Kenshiro explained, "A defensive technique that allows the user to catch projectiles between one's fingers, and sending it back at the same speed and trajectory towards the enemy. Though it is a defensive technique, often it results in death when used. The bully just now was spared only because I deliberately changed the trajectory of the knife. Had I truly wished for his death, the knife would have struck his skull instead."

Jimmy blinked at this, unsure of how Kenshiro spoke so casually of causing death to another person. Exactly where was she living before she came to South Park, causing her to speak of death as if it were part of her daily life.

Though considering that South Park itself had seen its fair share of bloodshed and tumultuous events, he was not one to say anything on the matter.

"S-So you're like a martial artist?" Asked Jimmy.

Another nod was Kenshiro's answer.

"Your accent sounds like Japanese, a-are you from Japan?"

Yet another nod.

"My art originated from China, though my mentor migrated to Japan before passing it to me, his successor," Said Kenshiro.

"Y-You don't talk much, do you?" Asked Jimmy.

A firm shake of the head was Kenshiro's answer.

"May we go and see the Elf king, please?" Asked Kenshiro, "Time is of the essence."

"O-Oh sure, let us depart immediately!"

IIOII

As Kenshiro and Jimmy reached the door of a green-walled residence, Jimmy proceeded to ring the doorbell. After a few minutes of waiting, the door opened to reveal a young boy around the same age as him, dressed in a medieval-styled outfit replete with a blue helmet adorned with a red feather, a green cloak around his back and a leather belt with a steel buckle around his waist. In his hand was a black greatsword nearly the length of his entire arm, yet he lifted it with little difficulty, as though it was light as a feather.

"Greetings, Bard, I welcome you back to the Elven Kingdom, but who's the girl with you?" Asked the boy with the blue helmet, even as he was stunned by Kenshiro's intimidating appearance.

"Greetings, ranger Stan. T-This is Kenshiro, a wanderer I met," Said Jimmy, "I have brought her here so that she may see the Elven king, as she desires to do so. She says that it is so she could f-f-fulfil a task given to her b-by the heavens."

"A wanderer, huh?" Said Stan, crossing his arms with an expression of wariness directed at Kenshiro, "Are you sure she can be trusted? She looks like a sixth-grader to me."

"S-She saved me from a sixth-grader who was b-beating me up, I can v-v-vouch for her," Said Jimmy with certainty.

Seeing that Jimmy would not be persuaded otherwise, Stan then relented, and said, "Alright, she may come in, but I'm warning you, Kenshiro, if you do anything stupid, you're gonna regret it."

A simple nod was Kenshiro's response, before she was led into the residence's backyard with Jimmy and Stan as escorts.

As soon as Kenshiro entered the backyard, she could see it was filled with over a dozen boys, two dozen and a half at the most, according to his estimates, all wearing medieval-styled costumes and fake pointed ears and doing various things, from tending shops filled with props, to maintaining watch on the giant tree fitted with wooden platforms and ladders, all the while taking note of the centrepiece attraction in the middle of the backyard.

Many of them cast glances at her, most gasping at sight of her, others turning their faces away to cover their blushing cheeks. Kenshiro was confused at this; she was not indecently dressed, why would they avert their glances as if they were staring at something inappropriate? Was it something she did not notice earlier, or were they just being shy?

Whatever the case, Kenshiro left that aside as she neared the place where the Elf king was residing.

Sitting on a makeshift throne of wood on an elevated platform was a single boy, wearing a red bathrobe tailored with intricate patterns, green gloves and an oversized green parka on his head, with a crown of twigs worn on top of the parka. At his side was a single golf club, presumably serving as his weapon or symbol of power as king.

"M-My lord Kyle, this girl wishes to speak with you," Said Jimmy, bowing before the boy Elf king.

As the boy king looked at Kenshiro, he was instantly stunned speechless by the girl before her; porcelain skin that glistened in the sun; long, wavy hair cascading down her shoulders like threads of silk; bright, piercing blue eyes that seemed to sparkle; a well-toned, yet curvy body that struck a balance between feminine beauty and masculine bulk that drew the envy of many, both boy and girl. The clothes she wore only accentuated those features, making her even more attractive, despite covering much of her flesh.

He was unaware that he was gaping at the sight of Kenshiro until he heard Stan calling out to her.

"My lord? Are you there?" Asked Stan, wondering what caused the king to be unreactive.

"Uh.. Oh yes, I heard you wished to see me, stranger?" Asked Kyle, to which Kenshiro nodded.

"Indeed I do, king of the Elves," Said Kenshiro, bowing in respect, "I am Kenshiro, a wanderer ordained by the heavens to perform a task in this land. To do that, I must be involved in your conflict between your kind and the Humans."

"So, you're offering to join the Elves?" Asked the king.

Kenshiro nodded, saying nothing else.

Just then, a group of boys dressed as Elves returned to the backyard, one of them holding a stick in his hands with a triumphant expression.

"My king, we have the Stick!" Proclaimed the stick-holder, "The plan worked; we managed to distract the Humans long enough to overpower the Stick's guardian and reclaim the artefact!"

"Well done, Elves!" Said Kyle, "Jimmy, I assign you as the Stick's guardian! Hide in the Inn of the Giggling Donkey with a group of our best men, and organise a trap for Cartman and his men! Make sure they don't get the Stick back!"

"Y-Yes, my lord, your will be done," Said Jimmy with a bow, who then was given possession of the Stick.

"Ken, you will head to the inn as well and help Jimmy guard the Stick," Said Kyle to Ken, "We'll keep you updated through Twitter messages."

"Actually, what is Twitter?" Asked Kenshiro, "More than that, what is a mobile phone?"

The sheer ridiculousness of her question caused everyone to look at her, not expecting such a question to be asked in the first place with one thought echoing in their thoughts: She doesn't know what a mobile phone is?

Kyle was the first to recover from the shock of the ridiculous question being asked, and said to Kenshiro, "Let's get this straight: You don't know what a mobile phone is?"

"No," Said Kenshiro.

"The internet, Facebook, Youtube?"

Kenshiro shook her head.

Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off his headache, Kyle then said, "Alright... um, Ken, I think you'll need a phone if you're gonna play with us. I mean, you don't really need it to do so, but we use our phones all the time to communicate with each other. Otherwise, we're gonna have communication problems and everyone's gonna run around like headless chickens, you know what I mean?"

Kenshiro nodded, seeing his logic.

"Okay then, Jimmy, you're gonna have to do your job without Ken, I gotta help her get a phone," Said Kyle, who stood up from his throne and took his golf club, beckoning for Kenshiro to follow him.

IIOII

"It's gone," Said Clyde, a look of disappointment evident on his face.

"What?" Asked Eric in disbelief.

"The Stick of Truth," Clyde clarified, "The Elves got it."

The battle for Kupa Keep had resulted in a defeat for the Humans; though the Elven raiders had been repelled easily enough with the help of Rachel, they had made use of the ensuing chaos to overpower Clyde and take the Stick from under their noses, and so the Stick was once again in possession of the Elves of Larnion.

"WHAT!?" Shouted Eric in obvious frustration, "You had one fucking job Clyde, and that was to guard the Stick of Truth!"

Regaining his breath for a moment, Eric then said, "Clyde, you are hereby banished from space and time!"

Clyde gave Eric a dumbstruck look, and then demanded, "What the fuck!? You can't do that!"

"Yeah, I can!" Eric replied, "You're banished and lost in space and time!"

"Yeah, go home Clyde!" Butters cut in.

Curling his lip in anger, Clyde threw his helmet to the ground in frustration. Giving one last glance at Rachel, he stormed off and went out through the gate. Rachel frowned, eyes lingering on Clyde before turning back to Eric.

"You fought bravely on the battlefield, Douchebag," Eric said with a nod.

"Yeah," Said Scott, "The new kid may be a douchebag, but he sure can fight."

Rachel rolled her eyes and inwardly groaned. Seriously, they're gonna keep calling me that?

"Shut up Scott, nobody cares what you think. Anyway, we have a bigger problem now," Said Eric, motioning for the group of Humans to follow him into the War tent. Once they were inside, he took a seat on a chair, his eyes lingering on all present.

"The Stick of Truth has been stolen and we must assemble out entire army to get it back," Stated Eric, who proceeded to stuff a mouthful of cheesy poof into his mouth.

Butters stepped forward and said, "But out three best warriors haven't reported for duty, my king!"

"Our newest member can take care of that!" Eric said, turning to Rachel, "Douchebag, I want you to go out into the neighbourhood and find my three greatest warriors; Token, Tweek and Craig. I am texting their pictures to your personal inventory device now."

Rachel pulled out his phone and inspected the three photos Eric sent to her.

The first photo showed a black, male kid. At the risk of sounding racist, Rachel found it easier to search for him, given that she had yet to find any African-American children in town.

The second was of a blonde-haired boy, whose hair was an absolute mess, with locks sticking out in random directions. He showed obvious signs of twitching, and his pine green shirt was not properly buttoned. Rachel would not be surprised if the boy had lost his cool after Eric had taken his picture.

The third and final one was of a boy wearing a blue chullo hat with a yellow puffball on top, his face a blank mask devoid of emotion. This one struck Rachel as the one to usually wear a blank expression.

As Rachel pocketed her phone, Eric stood up from his chair and walked to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Beware," Warned Eric, "The lands outside are full of marauding Drow Elves, monsters, and sixth graders. Be sure to be well-equipped. I'll be sending Butters with you to help. Now go! And send my warriors here!"

Eric gave Rachel's shoulder a slap before moving to sit on his 'throne'. As Butters and Rachel made their way to the gate, they stepped out into the street, ready to perform and fulfil the task Eric had assigned to them before the day was done.

A/N: Some of you might be concerned if Kenshiro would steal the spotlight from my Douchebag character, given that Ken is such an OP character and that Douchebag is supposed to be the main protagonist of the Stick of Truth.

While that might have a chance of happening, rest assured that I will write to the best of my ability to ensure no character overshadows the other.

Also, I will mostly stick true to the Stick of Truth's original storyline, since so many of its parts are just too darn good to change, in my opinion. Furthermore, I will stick to some original pairings in South Park, including the Stan-Wendy one, though I will also introduce original pairings later on in the story as it progresses.

Other than that, please review and enjoy.

Hokuto Shinken is invincible!