Krauser was more miffed than he thought he'd be, at the level of volume being demonstrated for the Kim/Tizoc fight. Those nasty, seething thoughts burrowed back into his mind, polluting his self-control... those were supposed to be HIS cheers. He was supposed to bring the metaphorical roof off of this Stadium, the monumental Allianz Arena. To have that denied from him... he could surely break the neck of the closest person to him. That is, if that person wasn't Silber.

Thus, he settled for aggressively munching his pretzels, his fingers clasping them so violently, they broke even before his crushing jaws ground them up to a paste. If only pretzels could be substituted for...

"Mr. Krauser?"

When he heard her voice, he swallowed a solid chunk still in his mouth. It lodged into his throat, embarrassingly producing a coughing fit at the most inopportune time of keeping up appearances.

"Whoa, easy!" a hard chop to his back, and the food evacuated his windpipe safely, restoring the man back to a state in which he could adjust himself, and resume his menacing facade.

He set his pretzels aside, and glared at her... what right did she have to just... just march up to him, so intrepidly, so... impudent?! Like he wasn't the bane of her dreams, the most dangerous threat to her living and breathing?!

"Sakazaki must've hit you too hard." Krauser sneered. "You're obviously not in a sound state of mind to approach me like this."

Athena didn't back away, didn't allow her breathing to fluctuate... forbid her legs from shaking, no matter how much they wished. "Believe me, Krauser... I'm clearer now than I've been during my stay in Germany. I've got nothing to lose."

A sharp scoff. "Pfeh! We could put that to the test."

"I'd rather take a seat instead."

He tried to mask it, but his eyes stared wide: the nerve of her! And for some reason... it made him want to listen. Maybe deep down, his nature compelled him to appreciate the bold and courageous, no matter how deeply he called them enemy.

"Fine then. Sit."

For 80 suffocating seconds, the two opted to only sit and stir the bubbling stew of unresolved tensions boiling between, sharing the most cumbrous silence. It finally fell upon the shoulders of the one who initiated this uneasy interaction, to find that initiative once more, and break the ice...

"There's a lot you don't understand. About what went down." she opened.

"What's there to understand?" Krauser mercilessly countered. "You fought with treachery. You embarrassed me in front of my European brethren. Me, the king of this continent!"

"Are you really that insecure about yourself?" Athena fought back with grit.

"Surely a person of your status should understand how important, how... vital... reputation is." Krauser returned. "And you... you threatened mine when you stole victory from me so... so flagrantly."

Athena remained silent for a moment, taking in the words, trying to understand the big man's point of view. A benefit someone of her disposition and talents had: she too often tried to see inside people. And inside Krauser... she saw a blinding, foolish, absolutely STUPID pride.

Krauser broke the silence. "Answer these... Miss Asamiya."

Athena nodded.

"Do you believe yourself my superior?"

"No."

"Are you aware that I've killed, in hand to hand combat?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe you're a match for me?"

A small laugh, which amusingly shifted his eyebrows. "Believe me, Krauser, the last thing I desire is to challenge your bloated ego."

Another bout of silence... Athena sighed. This was getting out of hand. Not the way she wanted it to go. She was a kind, peace-loving soul... not one to seek battle, but reconciliation with those who could be saved, who didn't have true evil in their hearts. Krauser, to his credit... the man wasn't perfect, but a noxious arrogance at least didn't threaten innocent people.

Thus, Athena made the choice, to put this to bed once and for all.

"Look... I'm sorry I stained your honor, or whatever. But I made a choice... a choice I felt was right. I'm not saying I WAS right: no human being has the moral authority to decide what is and isn't. But I still made my choice, I stuck to it, and I saw it through. And for that... I'm NOT sorry."

She steeled herself for the comeback. That was it; her weapons unloaded. She gave all she had to the man. If any animosity remained... it was a blemish on him, not her failure.

Surprisingly... a smile?!

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Seeing an expression of joy should have settled her down a bit, but... for some reason, it spiked her up slightly. Maybe it was in an ironic light?

He spoke: "You speak with great conviction, girl. Hmph... far be it from me to condemn someone who followed their heart, even to a bitter end. It's an admirable quality."

She felt like sighing with relief. "I'm glad you understand... Krauser."

He turned away from her at that moment, seemingly losing complete interest in the whole matter. A dismissive wave of his hand followed. "Very well then! Our threads of fate have been severed. I doubt they will foretell us to have further business in the future. So... farewell. Onto brighter horizons."

With that, Athena rose to her feet, with a smile and a bow. "Good day, Krauser. I sincerely hope we don't... interact again."

He didn't respond or look towards her. Athena felt almost like living in a new reality; one where she'd never offended the man in the first place. Where he wouldn't, on any given day, go out of his way to give her even an inkling of acknowledgement. It was incredible... like a dream? Maybe Ryo had knocked her out, and she had yet to wake up?

As she strutted away from the VIP booth, victorious, trying not to dance a celebratory jig for having somehow quelled the wrath of the raging beast... she wondered how else her fortunes could turn around-

"MIGNON IS HERE! PUT EM UP ATHE...naaaa?!"

Athena tossed her entry card at the pinkette's feet and walked away, grinning ear to ear.

The crowd volume was at an all time high, as heroes of their respective counties, Korea and Mexico, clashed with spirited vigor, and brimming animation. Kim and Tizoc gave the crowd what they wanted, battering each other with explosive strikes, matched only by their ability to hype the crowd with their theatrics. This is what the Twilight Tournament was all about: redemption, for those who fell too soon... and the chance for glory, for those who were evaded.

Kim bounced on his heels, light, feathery in stance... it would take extra energy this way, but he HAD to avoid getting tangled up with a wrestling giant like Tizoc. There was only one way to win this: stick and move, stick and move. Kim was fast, and he threw heavy. His output would fell the big man.

"ACHOOOO!" Kim kia'd as he threw himself at Tizoc, planting a flying kick into the man's meaty chest. The big man barely budged... but Kim demonstrated true agility by springing off, twisting his body mid-flight, and bringing his heel crashing atop the dome of Tizoc's bird head.

Tizoc finally reeled, slightly; it looked like he'd go down for a second, but the wrestler wobbled... and he regained himself seconds later. To demonstrate to the crowd he was okay, he turned away from his opponent and flexed his muscles, eliciting roars from the pumped up audience.

"YOU GO TIZOOOOOC!" Bonne Jenet cheered, jumping up and down, breasts flailing in her purple dress and nearly flying out. Needless to say, Shingo's eyes weren't on the fight in front of him.

"TASTE MY MIGHTY LARIAT, WHICH I USE TO CHOP OFF THE HYDRA HEADS OF EVIL!" Tizoc, in an unwise move, telegraphed and ANNOUNCED his attack to Kim, running at the man with his arm drawn back, ready to fire. To his benefit... if he hit Kim, the Korean probably WOULD lose his head.

Obviously, Kim wasn't having this. He easily ducked under Tizoc's wild swing, and the wrestler spun around, and tried to charge the other way. Kim took his best step forward, and unleashed a kick into his stomach to stop the advance. Big as Tizoc was, Kim's power was not to be undermined: the sole of his foot struck deep, halting Tizoc's forward advance to a still.

Kim wasn't done. He never threw just one. "WATAAAAH!" his left hip pivoted forward as he went high, cracking Tizoc's beak with a roundhouse, going clean across his face and swinging all the way around. As the Korean went 360, ANOTHER whipping kick came, this time in reverse, striking the same exact spot... this time, the great giant fell.

"Kim's gotta kick pretty hard to drop a man that size." Terry winced.

Dazed, but far from done, Tizoc returned to his feet. Kim backed away to a safe range, to avoid getting tied up. The dance resumed... Tizoc inched forward with a bit more patience, his hands open, indicating he was planning on throwing strikes.

"HYAH!" he opened with a wide backhanded chop, whizzing just out of range of Kim's head when the Korean swayed back. Tizoc stepped forward and tried to give him a giant slap, but Kim dodged the left, and then a right lariat coming right after. The force of that whiffed lariat caused Tizoc to stumble out of range of any counter.

Kim came forward next, pivoting his leg with another sole-fed kick: it bounced off of Tizoc's beefy bicep, as Tizoc countered with a right slap that was easily ducked by the retreating Korean. This time, TIZOC tried a kick; he came forward with a stomping boot, easily sidestepped by Kim, and the wrestler stumbled forward... then came the real surprise.

Tizoc knew a thing or two about spinning shit as well, as he came around with a whipping kick of his own! Kim, unprepared for it, could only throw his arms up and hope the giant clodhopper wouldn't kill him: thankfully, it just knocked him down.

A downed opponent! Tizoc finally got to try out some stuff. He started by turning his back to Kim... he got a leaping start, going airborne, easing into a backflip... it was a textbook Moonsault, and Tizoc was a giant schoolbus about to squash a snack cake like Kim.

"No way!" Kim commanded himself to roll out of the way, as Tizoc's body landed with a giant CRAAAAAASH!

The dust from the impact obstructed both of them... but it cleared quickly, and Kim found himself quicker on the draw. His foot went up high in offense, slamming into Tizoc's cheek, and that same foot went lower and peppered his abdomen. Kim planted that foot and started kicking with the other one instead, attempting to clip Tizoc's thick, tree trunk legs.

...That's where his offense ended. The foot struck its intended target... but Tizoc seemed just as hard to uproot as his teammate Gato, and the bird man merely laughed at Kim's kick and provided a kick of his own: a boot to Kim's stomach, and the Korean went flying across the combat zone.

Kim got acquainted with some dirt particles in his mouth, as well as his eyes. After a quick session of spitting and rubbing, he looked up... what was blocking the sun?!

...Tizoc was coming down on him, elbow first.

"Oooooooogh!" Mary sucked in air hard through her teeth. "No way Kim gets up from that one."

"Don't forget, this isn't a three count." Terry reminded. "As long as Kim's still conscious, he's got a chance."

By some feat, Kim WAS alive and well; he was just being crushed underneath a few hundred pounds of muscle man. To his benefit, though, Tizoc's extraordinary impact offered him little control of his own body's resting position. Before he had a chance to get comfortable on top of Kim, the Korean scrambled well and fought his way from underneath the crushing weight.

"Huff... huff...huff... haaaaagghhhhkkk cough cough coughcoughcough!" Kim sounded like 80 years of cigarettes as he hacked and coughed to regain the lost wind that was squeezed from his body. The man looked ready to slump over any second; it was only those powerful legs... and an invincible pride for Korea... that kept him upright.

"YOU REMAIN STANDING!" Tizoc exclaimed, surprised. "You truly are a great warrior, Kim Kaphwan! The power of justice flows strongly through you! But my body is a temple... a temple through which ultimate power flows, and victory exudes from every curve of my rectus abdominis! Now... TASTE THE POWER OF TRUE JUSTICE!"

"Oh for the love of god, SHUT UP." Kim grunted. "You're even making ME sick of the word."

The two ran at each other full speed, pride vs pride, each putting their heroic ideals on the line. Kim timed his arrival, got a huge spinning start, and let his foot fly mid to the body. He was going to destroy that damn washboard!

...But Tizoc timed him as well. Cocking his forearm back, he let it fly backhanded, and, with a meaty THUD much like his live shows, smacked Kim's foot away and sent the Korean into a stumble.

Tizoc homed in on him, got close... he finally got to demonstrate his vastly superior strength, as he easily seized Kim in a headlock, tucked underneath his armpit, and lifted... with just one arm, Tizoc had Kim completely vertical, his feet pointing towards the sky.

"Here comes the big whammy!" Shingo gasped.

Tizoc freefalls backwards... SLAM! Kim got laid to bed in the roughest way imaginable, so forceful that a dirt storm obscured the two of them.

"Jesus, Kim is like a crash test dummy to that freaking galoot!" Andy exclaimed.

The dust cleared... Tizoc had Kim once again, this time in a Fireman's Carry, draped across his shoulders.

"Oh please don't. I can't watch!" Shingo cried, burying his face in a cliche manner... but of course leaving a little crack to peep through.

Tizoc went airborne. He spun 360, 720, 1440... KERBOOOOOM! Another haze of dust clouded the combat zone, and people could only envision the pain and torment Kim's battered body must have suffered at this point.

"If he gets up from that, I'll drink my own..." Benimaru muttered in disbelief.

"Better get a bottle, then." Mary pointed. "Look."

Tizoc was completely unaware of the fact. In an eerily similar fashion to his live shows, he had his back turned from the combat zone and was facing the crowd, earning "pop" by striking poses, lifting his hands up and gesticulating to desire a raised volume, and even flexing his curved and wholesome pectorals. He was absolutely convinced he'd won the fight.

Thus... imagine his disbelief when he turned around... and saw Kim Kaphwan standing before him.

"W-wha... I... it can't be... it can't be..."

But it was. He was breathing heavily, legs wobbling, arms heavy at his waist... but the man, bathed in dirt, hair messed up, still had the fire inside him to stare Tizoc down, with eyes that desired victory: not for himself, but only as a testament to Korea and their strong, persevering athletes. The BEST athletes.

At that moment... for the second time in his life... Tizoc's spirit broke. All his efforts, all his fire and energy, his belief in his power and the power of good... it wasn't enough to put this man down. HIS ambition prevailed. HIS justice became the truth. Because he took the best Tizoc offered... and still stood.

And Tizoc was tired. So very tired... it was all too much. Burning out his muscles with theatrical attacks, exerting extra energy to work the crowd... the toll was real. It felt too much like that old time, rearing its ugly head once again...

Kim summoned the last of his reserves, took his mightiest step forward, got a spinning start... this kick had to finish the job, no matter what.

"WATAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Tizoc fell like the towering tree he was, crashing in the dirt so greatly, it left an outline around him.

With a deep exhale, Kim returned his foot to the ground... something didn't feel right.

"OWWWWW!" Kim let out a howl, and the supposedly victorious man collapsed. The audience let out a gasp, as they witnessed the Korean hero on his back, face twisted, clutching his foot in pain.

Despite his head spinning rapidly, Tizoc's good nature naturally compelled him to unwittingly get up and run over there to tend to the man. "Hey! Are you okay?! What happened? Where does it hurt?"

"Aghhhh my foot!" Kim cried. "I sprained my foot kicking your giant head!"

In an instant, chaos and confusion plagued the Stadium. The crowd on their feet, boos erupting, the situation unwound in a record time. The crowd truly demonstrated how fickle and merciless they could be, going from loving this fight, to turning on them like the flip of a page.

"Oh man, it's getting bad in here." Ryo, fresh from his victory, grunted.

"So who won?!" Jenet restlessly questioned.

"No idea... and I haven't seen Rose around." Mary mentioned. "Who's gonna make the call?"

And thus, as acting host... the decision fell on Krauser. The purple-haired man was on his feet, as he looked around with a snarl, observing the impatience, the displeasure of the crowd, the bewilderment of the fighters... as a shrewd and decisive man, he was quick to step forth and make his choice, with no regrets.

He threw his hand up, and shouted: "TIZOC IS THE WINNER!"

WINNER: TIZOC

"Bullshit!" Mary spat. "BULL. SHIT. That's crap, right Terry? TERRY?"

Terry had a hand on his chin, and the other hand... doing some weird flutter thing. "W-well... uhhh... I dunno, Mary! I like em both!"

"Sigh... of course you won't discriminate former teammates. You're too good, Terry Bogard."

"I think Kim is the rightful winner!" Andy's answer was much clearer.

"Pssssh, you're just saying that to go against your brother." Ryo swatted.

"Am not!"

"Tizoc is the winner, okay?!" Jenet shut them all down. "The big purple guy said so! So suck it! My big man cleaned up~"

"Shut up, Jenet. Nothing you say is valid, unless we're talking about track and field." Mary shot with a curl of her nose.

The crowd was mixed: to those in awe and idolization of their Mexican hero, a hot and frothy outburst of positivity rang. Almost in equal pitch, however, was a negative backdraft of jeers and complaints, from those who hailed the Korean in their highest regards.

Discord. Disunity. Disordinance. All words that meant the same thing: beautiful, glorious pandemonium, that a select group was slurping up like a milkshake... and enjoying every sip of.

"Ha ha ha ha! HAHAHAHAHA!" Yashiro cackled. "Luck be a lady today!"

"Maybe we should all get some scratchoff tickets, see how far this day takes us." Chris grinned wide at his cheesy follow-up joke.

"Can the cheese, you two." Shermie snickered. "This crowd is obviously like a stock market: one minute they shoot up, the next they're prepared to chuck pitchforks. There's got to be a way to... KEEP the negative vibes flowing. Supplement it?"

"It's impossible to predict the way humans will go." Yashiro explained. "They're too fickle. That's why we've just got to do our job... and take advantage of these fools and their uncanny ability to stir the shit. Hehehehe... they'll open the door for His arrival, and seal their own fates."

"We just gotta win, right?" Chris asked.

Yashiro nodded. "We just gotta win. You two did well this round... it's up to me now. Orochi's Will be done."

Since his "victory", Tizoc hadn't moved from that spot: not even after they came and got Kim. The paramedics repeatedly asked him if he needed medical attention... but Tizoc showed no reaction, as he sat on his knees. Eventually, they gave up and hauled Kim off.

Bonne Jenet finally went out there to tend to him. Kneeling down, hand on his shoulder, she called to him up close. "You okay, baby?"

Tizoc's bird eyes only looked diagonal, at the dirt, where his head tilted.

"...Tizoc?"

His head slightly shifted up. "This... this was no victory. I... it wasn't enough. It wasn't..."

"What you mean? You won!" Jenet tried to reassure. "Krauser said so."

"This isn't some stupid scripted match!" Tizoc appeared to be booming in anger, but his masked face still looked forward. "Nobody gets to 'decide' that I was victorious! Kim struck me down, and in my heart, I'm not... I'm not the..."

Silence.

Jenet either wasn't accustomed to tackling such serious subject matter, or she was too naive to understand Tizoc's heart. Thus, she merely giggled and leaned in close to him. "Cmon, bird brain. You just need to get some alcohol in you. Why don't we-"

"No, leave me alone!" Tizoc finally exploded, leaping to his feet and inadvertently knocking Jenet aside. "I... I need time alone, to think. Excuse me."

The wrestler turned away and fled... away from his admirers... away from the children who worshiped him... away from the lights, the cheers, the glory. To him, these things were unearned. Undeserved. This was not the victory of the Bird Mask...

As Jenet watched her teammate walk away, she stomped the ground with a pout. "Hmph! Both my guys win big, and neither of them even can show the slightest joy... screw this, I'll go drink alone."

In the locker room sat two losers, and the word couldn't be stressed enough: Hwa Jai and Raiden, the comical duo, had been utterly demolished by their opponents, who, ironically, both shared the same theme of being small and adorable and huggable. That only added further sting to the defeats, it seemed.

"Ugh... you said they'd be here, baldy." Raiden whined. "Where are they?! I'm getting hungry."

"Oh please. You're the last person who can't afford to miss a meal." Hwa Jai sneered, always ready with a comeback to his stout counterpart.

"Hey, I'm not THAT fat, alright? A lot of this is pure moosekul."

"Tch, gimme a break Tubs. You look like you drink heavy cream straight out the carton."

"I could stick you up my ass, head first. So don't test me."

Their second fight of the day, in the non-physical realm this time, was interrupted by a loud, authoritative tone:

"ATTENNNNNN... HUT!"

Their attention focused towards the echoing voice, as the man of the hour came strutting in: his shades shimmering, a tooth-baring grin on his lips, stretching that fuzzy black worm atop his lip along with it... the man walked with his back straight, his hands pompously clutching the edges of his coat, where buttons were supposed to meet in the middle. Behind him, as impressive in height and stature, Yamazaki flanked, with a classic hand in his pocket and that trademark sloth-like attitude about him.

"At ease, gentlemen." Mr. Big smirked.

"Whaddaya want, Big?!" Raiden blurted.

"Hey now..." he held a hand up innocently, "Is that any way to talk to your new boss?"

"YOU AIN"T MY BOSS!" Raiden puffed.

"Sorry, did I say boss? I mean... mutual benefactor." Big's words oozed with a slippery, CREEPY charm. Like a car salesman.

"You better make your point fast, Big," Raiden snarled, "Before I crumple you up like a loogie in a tissue!"

For a man like Big to be threatened in such a way... the bald guy took it surprisingly light, just dismissing it with a chuckle. He turned and pointed his Eskrima stick at Raiden, flashing his teeth, which sparkled with shine.

"Hear and heed, my hefty hombre! The days of Geese Howard's administration are long over. I see a future... a future where me, the one and only Mr. Big, stand tall and proud over Southtown like days' past! And while many lesser, less educated bosses out there look at their enemies with naught but petty thoughts of retaliation or prejudice... I see my FORMER enemies as a chance for reconciliation, for unity... and for security. With you two, Geese's old reliables, at my side, Southtown will be stronger than ever! And most importantly... you'll keep me protected from any chance of Geese ever returning, by providing me with any intel you may have on the guy. Strengths, weaknesses, desires, wet dreams, the color of his underwear! You guys are my treasure trove!"

Big gave his Eskrima stick a dramatic twirl, tossing it up like a baton, spinning around and turning his back to them all, to catch it smoothly in his fingers. "Ryuji here will protect us from the Chinese/Japanese elements: they know his reputation well enough not to f*** with us. If we can get some of Krauser's guys on our side, like Laurence, or maybe even that German wolf fur-wearing mofo, that'll give us European pull, and surely piss the big guy off! Wahahahahahaha!"

Another dramatic spin around. He aimed his stick at the two guys.

"That leaves two more steps... first of all, I want those Koreans. You know the two. We need to get our clutches on any desirables we can. Boost our manpower."

"This sounds great and all, Big..." Hwa argued, "But do you seriously have the resources to pull this off? Money?"

"I'm glad you brought that up, you walking penis." Big smirked. "I do have a plan in mind, but we're gonna need that 2.5 million to help us out. Ryuji and I will win the money for you, since you two couldn't tie your shoelaces in the time it took to get wiped out."

"Hey! That bitch was like a... deadly... baby doll!" Hwa Jai screeched.

"Yeah, something wasn't right about that Beaver lookin' kid!" Raiden joined in.

"No doubt." Yamazaki snickered in silence.

Big shushed them with a wave of his stick. "Regardless... we can also boost our chances by recruiting members who are still in the tournament. We know Bogard's boys won't budge, Ryo's bunch are pious idiots... but King maybe..."

"I could try Gato. For old times' sake." Yamazaki added.

"Gato... yes, good thinking." Big smiled. "Find that hot Mexican chick and try her again. Try those... creepy chicks who hang out with Yagami. Hell, try Yagami himself!"

"We're not doing Yagami."

"Ryuji-"

"We're NOT. DOING. YAGAMI."

"Fine, jeeeeez Louiiiise."

Silence graced the room for a good 10 seconds... suddenly, a hard smack of Big's stick against the nearby wall. "Alright! You all know your missions. Let's go out and Make Southtown Great Again!"

I'm so sorry for that last line. So sorry. I just couldn't resist LOL. I'm gonna get some hate for that one, even from friends. Ah well, you all love me enough to forgive me ; )

Only six fights remain! Who will rise up to take the final spots for Round 2, and who will be put on the bus ride to Loserville? Find out next time, as the fights continue!