Welp, here we are my friends! We started with 48, and after this quick and brutal round, there will be only 8. That means there's 8 fights in this round, as 16 will become... uhh... 8. Okay, I'm gonna stop saying that number now. Okay, one more time. EIGHT!
Enjoy the fights, and feel free to post your reactions, be they cheers or boos, in the reviews. Hearts will be broken, hearts will be won. That's a fighting tourney for ya ; ) let's go!
In the early morning of Day 5, a congregation was being held in one of the many hiding spots of the rag-tag remnants of a once-immortal organization: Those From The Past, they called themselves. Otherwise known as Those From His Distant Land.
For this team, who had tried and failed all week to kill one simple man, it was a time to... collect themselves. Take inventory.
Saiki was dead. Their most powerful captains, Mukai and Magaki. Most of their group had either gone into exile or faded away.
Here they stood: Shion, the former "lieutenant" of the aforementioned Magaki. Botan, the cunning puppetmaster, who answered directly to Saiki... and perhaps held him in the highest esteem.
Shroom and Rimelo, mere foot soldiers in the light of other prominent names... but they had been there through it all. They'd put in their time. They'd yet to see a single profit.
These four were all that remained. No leader. No direction. They had nothing in their hearts, but the ambitions of their late boss, to guide them... to shine even a small speck of light in their clouded souls.
"So what now?" Shroom spoke up, the blonde still wearing Heidern's eyepatch. "The Hakkeshu have resurged. They were close to being knocked out of the tournament..."
"They're done for." Shion spoke up with assurance. "It was a twist of fate that allowed them a second foothold, but I guarantee, by the end of this round... our heroes will see to their demise. All that's left is for us to fulfill our end. They can fade into oblivion for all I care."
With that, Shion twirled his spear and turned to face Botan. "Well? What's it going to be? Are you going to take care of Adelheid, or will I have to do it myself?"
Botan's face turned sour. "I don't much care for that tone, SHION. And don't think for a minute that I answer to you!"
A swing of his spear. "You're incapable of controlling the right people we need. You're too scared to get in close. All you've managed to get is a loser in clown makeup... and THAT guy!"
They turned to the person in question: Eiji Kisaragi, who stood there with his arms folded, his disposition a mystery to all.
Botan smirked. "Just you wait. The contract will have them all flocking here by this afternoon. In fact, I've already been in contact with a PROFESSIONAL. A real, bona fide assassin from a reputable organization. She'll be here any-"
"Now."
Botan slightly jumped, as did the rest of them, when they heard the foreign voice penetrate their privacy. They all turned to face the source at once, to get a good look at the stranger who had sniffed them out.
Tall, powerful legs that seemed to go up for eternity... clad in a skintight yellow-black leather that formed a complete jumpsuit on her person. The only portion that remained unconcealed was the majority of her bosom, which looked like it could repel ANY article of clothing one placed there. It was, quite simply, extraordinary.
A pristine, puffed-up blonde hairstyle belied a face that bore the most piercing, STABBING cold... as well as two glistening, amber eyes.
Botan smirked. Shion was unimpressed...though his eyes, which lingered low, spoke another story.
"Nice to meet you...?" Botan spoke with a quizzical undertone.
"Neville. Lien Neville." the blonde's British voice was revealed.
Botan got in close, pointing a thumb. "Hehe, this girl will get it done for sure. What was the name of that group you were with? Me...Meta...?!"
..In a flash, Lien was behind her, a gold-plated, mechanical gauntlet wrapped around her neck. She lifted with one arm... and Botan was reduced to strained grunts, her feet flailing beneath her.
"Urrghh! URRRHKkkkkk...!"
"Mephistopheles." Lien's voice chilled the air, as she presented her other hand to the back of Botan's head. "And don't think for a minute you're going to sink your sutures into me. You'll find I'm quite immune."
Botan struggled to speak through gasps. "Haaaghhh..how did youuuughhkkk...?"
Lien's expression showed no mercy. "You think I would take a job, without knowing a thing or two about the clients? I've dealt enough hands with Devils."
Shion was already starting to like her, if only for the way she manhandled Botan. "Very impressive, miss. You do seem like a woman who can handle herself just fine. Except maybe when it comes to clothes shopping..."
She released Botan, who collapsed to the floor in a whooping, coughing mess. "They don't make snapping a neck any more difficult, I assure you. Now then... Bernstein, is it?"
Shion nodded. "You should have come earlier; you just missed him. He was escorted by a large security force, back to Allianz Arena. It's a soccer stadiu-"
"I know what football is." Lien corrected. "So he's there?"
"Yes." Shion nodded. "They both are. But there's a tournament underway: The King of Fighters Tournament. You've had some experience there yourself, haven't you?"
Lien shrugged. "Once or twice. Enough to not let it intimidate me one bit."
"Good. Then you know your target. It could be him, or her, or BOTH if you want."
With a swing of her hair, Lien turned her back to them and started to walk away. "Just be prepared to pay me double."
The group was left alone, with a mixture of dumbfounded, slightly humbled... utterly impressed.
"Huff... huff... she's a bitch!" Botan hissed with a raspy voice, massaging her neck.
Shion, in contrast, was all smiles. "I like her."
ALLIANZ ARENA, DAY 5: START OF ROUND 3
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" Rose Bernstein spoke with a captivating tone, into the microphone. "ONLY 16 FIGHTERS REMAIN! BUT AFTER TODAY, THERE WILL BE ONLY 8... AS THE QUARTERFINALS DRAW NEAR!"
"Hell yes!" Mai boasted to the high heavens, with a chest-bouncing fist pump. "I'm so stoked I made it this far!"
King, who was also excited, put a hand on her shoulder. "Same here. The Women's Team is ruling this tournament!"
"I just wish..." Mai grew slightly somber. "Yuri was with us..."
King hung her head down slightly. "Yeah..."
A second later, the two of them cried out in pain, as they felt a sequential punch on the arms.
"OW!"
"OUCH!"
Yuri, the perpetrator, flashed a coy grin. "Will you two chill? I'm not the least bit shaken up about circumstances. I'll be here, rooting for you two, Chiz..."
She turned to the man next to her. "And this dim-witted doofus right here~"
Ryo leaned down and planted a big smooch on her hairline. "I just hope one of us gets to smoke those Skank Twins!"
"...Or that tall drink of bastard." Mai pointed.
Their eyes all cut to the distance: there stood, arms folded, a party-pooping face, the grump named Gato.
"I really, really hate that guy." King sneered.
"Eh, at least he's not as bad as Angel." Yuri replied. "Speaking of which, where the heck is she?! I haven't seen her since Kula spanked that Latina booty."
"Dunno, don't care." King shrugged. "I'm just happy we've got options."
As the women and Ryo were preparing, they spotted Chizuru walking by them at a brisk pace.
"Good luck, girls~!" Chizuru at least spent a second to wish them good fortune, blowing a kiss with both hands, before turning and continuing her route.
Chizuru's rapid footsteps finally found their destination: Iori, who was pacing around aimlessly, hands in his pockets. She pressed her luck big time... walking up behind him and capturing him in a hug.
"Iori." she spoke his name softly. "Good luck today."
Iori turned to face her, his face no brighter than usual... but he seemed calm, at least.
With that, Chizuru took a greater gamble. She leaned in... closer... sensing no danger... until her lips pressed on his cheek.
She pulled away quickly, her face slightly flushed. "Let's finish them off today. You, me, Saisyu... and our allies. We're strong."
Iori turned his back to her once again. "I'm not sure the rest of them have what it takes, Chiz. Don't go placing your bets just yet. We might not even get the matchups."
And with that, Iori wandered off. Chizuru couldn't help but sigh; always so negative, he was. She tried so hard to balance it out with cheerfulness but... between the two of them, he would almost always win.
She reached up to slightly brush her raven hair. "I guess we'll see if the Hostess pulled through for us."
ROUND 3 FIGHT #1: SAISYU KUSANAGI VS RYUJI YAMAZAKI
Despite being perhaps the "least evil" of the Hakkeshu, Yamazaki had a surprising number of crimes to answer for this week. Beating up Kensou for money, kidnapping Bao and Momoko, collaborating with a bald asshole to take over Southtown... but perhaps the biggest, and most heinous of these acts: his campaign of violence before the Battle Royale, attacking and incapacitating all the potential fighters who could have had a second chance.
Never a guy to really take the spotlight, Yamazaki couldn't avoid it this time. He had stood center-stage in many intolerable deeds. He had SERIOUS retribution coming.
Thus, today, on Day 5, the start of Round 3... the peanut gallery of spectating fighters all prayed for his downfall, and no love would be lost if he were seriously injured.
"Villain." Saisyu, with a more romantic-fueled mind, spoke the condemning word loud and brazen, as he took his fighting stance. "I relish the opportunity to strike down one of the hateful Hakkeshu!"
Yamazaki let out a sarcastic snort, his hand sheathing into his pocket. "Oh gimme a break, pops. I'm not the one you should be worried about. Heh, well actually... that's not ENTIRELY true. Since I am about to pound your beard into crusty red clumps! Hehehehehehehehe!"
Saisyu refused to be intimidated. "I'm aware you are a dangerous fighter, Yamazaki... I've studied you greatly. But I'm aware of my own abilities. I've trained too hard, too long, to be defeated by a sniveling henchman who fights dishonorably!"
Despite those serious burns, Yamazaki took them well, with a cackle. "HEEHEEHEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Henchman? Dishonorable? Whatever, man. I don't do 'labels'. I do whatever the f*** I want, when I want it. And right now... I feel like committing aggravated assault on the elderly."
FIGHT!
Neither man made an immediate move; Yamazaki brought that out in most fighters, with his lackadaisical stance. Anyone who knew him knew there was a trap coming.
Despite this, Saisyu wanted to prove he showed no fear to the grinning thug; with a wave of his hand, his Kusanagi flames erupted, sending a small stream of fire trickling across the ground. Yamazaki, hand in his pocket, merely leaped with both feet, several inches to the side, to dodge the ground projectile.
Saisyu took advantage of getting the thug moving, and tried to rush in with offense. But Yamazaki, as always... was too quick with that arm.
SWOOOOSH!
All Saisyu saw was a blur, and lights flashed in his eyes. The next thing he felt was his butt hitting the floor; the thug had dropped him already.
"HEEHEEHEHHAAAHAHA!" Yamazaki, now the aggressor, rushed forward and snatched the downed Saisyu by his green gi. He jerked him up to his feet, drew his head back...
One headbutt. Lights flickering. Two headbutts. Saisyu saw nothing but distortion all around him, as a terrible headache onset.
Yamazaki dragged him around by the gi, delivering a sharp kick to his back, and sent him tumbling facefirst into the dirt.
Saisyu groaned, already spitting blood from a busted lip, as he slowly rose to his feet. He felt a trickle down his forehead; those headbutts must have opened up a cut. His back was turned to Yamazaki, but he could sense the thug approaching from behind...
Yamazaki tried to snatch him again; this time Saisyu was ready to fight back. He quickly seized Yamazaki by the arm, using the thug's own limb as leverage to get back to his own feet.
"Hyah! HYAAH!" Saisyu delivered a fierce chop to the face, going lower with a chop to the body, causing the thug to hunch over. He lifted the arm high and redirected it, flipping the thug through the air and planting him on his back.
"Ooof!"
Saisyu's ground assault was just as ferocious, as he rained two openhanded chops into Yamazaki's stomach, then collapsed his full body weight on top of the thug, ramming an elbow into his nose. Saisyu rolled across the ground, springing back to safety.
Yamazaki eventually got up... but the damage was evident, as his nose seemed to be bending in the wrong direction. He didn't appear too bothered, as he slowly reached a hand up, pinched it.. with a few adjustments and a cracking of bone, the nose was arranged back to a normal place.
Saisyu was feeling the momentum, and his confidence resonated into his power and technique. As Yamazaki returned to stance, Saisyu immediately broke his root, firing a strong inside leg kick, that sent his foot awry. As Yamazaki stumbled, Saisyu popped two sharp jabs to the face in succession, further damaging the nose... before cocking back with an elbow and curving it into Yamazaki's jaw, sending the thug's head sideways, and his body plummeting back down to the dirt.
Despite the beating he was receiving, Yamazaki got back up, cackling. "Well now! Somebody's been eating his Raisin Bran Crunch!" He snorted upwards, before expelling a loogie: it was light red.
Saisyu closed in and attacked; Yamazaki dodged his left, and sensed the right coming... with a swoosh of his snake arm, he parried the strike and stunned Saisyu with a backhand to the face.
"Urgh!" Saisyu grunted as he was put on his back feet, spitting more blood. As he retreated, Yamazaki rushed in fast: a lunging kick to the stomach sapped the air from Saisyu's body, and Yamazaki followed up with a leaping knee that impacted on his chest area. Kusanagi couldn't withstand the force of two body shots, and his legs gave out, putting him on his hands and knees.
Yamazaki delivered the final shot: a perfectly-placed axe kick, to the back of Saisyu's head, making the Kusanagi Head taste dirt for the second time in the fight.
"Back to your feet, Saisyu-sama!" Chizuru called out. "Quickly! Don't let him punish you!"
Saisyu, his body still writhing in pain, knew that if he lay here, a series of stomps would start coming. Thus, in a desperate move, he threw himself against Yamazaki's leg, clinging tight, like a cat with its claws fastened.
Yamazaki, with a twisted snarl, lifted his leg up high, and flung Saisyu off of him. The Kusanagi elder skidded across the dirt several feet, before finally rolling to a stop.
"Bingo." Chizuru spoke to herself. "Now you've got room to get back up...!"
It was rare to have moments where Saisyu felt like a dad... but as he stood up, his body wracked with pain, sharp breaths heaving, tasting crimson on his lips... he couldn't help but wonder if Kyo would be having this same trouble.
No. His son would have torched Yamazaki minutes ago.
The black-clad thug sauntered over with no real urgency, his hand still in his pocket, the other hand massaging his darkening nose. A smile was still plastered on his lips, baring all his teeth, which miraculously weren't knocked out.
"Big Bad Kusanagi Daddy." Yamazaki spoke those words mockingly, his fingers wiggling with sarcasm. "Ooooooh! Hehehe! You ain't nothin' special. I just wish your son was here to watch me spank his papa's bottom! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"
Before allowing Saisyu a rebuttal, Yamazaki's arm shot out with impossible speed. SWOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!
Saisyu's rage burned metaphorically, as it did physically, as he dodged the snake arm and closed distance with a roll. In an instant, he was in close proximity to the thug, before Yamazaki had a chance to raise his defenses.
Saisyu drew back his rigid hand, and delivered a blow to Yamazaki's pelvis. The towering thug nearly collapsed right there, but Saisyu wasn't having it just yet; he shot upwards, and threw a sharp upper to Yamazaki's chin, sending his head backwards. He went once again to the body, sending Yamazaki reeling back the other way, his face wide open for the FOURTH shot: a reverse knifehand, to his already busted nose.
Yamazaki, for all his love of pain, simply couldn't take the repeated trauma to his nose, and his legs gave out, as he hit the ground hard.
Saisyu lifted his open palm... a sharp, snapping flicker sounded as a ball of flame manifested within it, and he closed into a fist all at once, sending a spew of embers in all directions.
He raised his flaming fist of punishment and rained it down on Yamazaki's tenderized body. The thug wriggled sharply in recoil, clearly hurt by the accumulation of shots.
Saisyu didn't let up. He dropped down on Yamazaki's body, back against him. He cocked his elbow back... and let loose two back elbows, right into his mangled nose, before rolling forwards and leaping back to his feet.
At this point, Yamazaki could still get up... but he was barely on his feet. Saisyu, with a firm stance, kept his guard up high as Yamazaki swayed back and forth, drunkenly, but, despite EVERYTHING... he still had a hand sheathed in his pocket. Perhaps it was a timing matter, and Yamazaki never found the moment to unleash it? Who knew...
With desperate ounces of willpower remaining, Yamazaki lunged forward with a rather weak kick to the body. Saisyu parried it, smacking it aside, and Yamazaki was left wide open for the coup de grace...
"Hrrrrghhhhh... OROCHINAGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"
Saisyu was able to charge his super move with ridiculous speed, much quicker than his son ever did. It came out as fast as a regular punch... but it carried the monstrous power of the deadliest fire attack in all of martial arts.
Yamazaki was torched down to his boxers, as his body hit the ground with a THUD. The only response from the formerly-black-clad thug was a series of weak groans.
WINNER: SAISYU KUSANAGI
A resounding applause rocked the Stadium upon Saisyu's victory; a moment the Kusanagi elder chose to relish in, with one of his pearly-white-flashing grins, and a wave of his hand.
"Hell yes! That's how you do it, pops! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ralf cheered. Clark, who was sitting beside him, seized his partner's neck in a brotherly headlock.
"Can't say I'm the least bit sad." Mary spoke with stinging honesty. "Ryuji f***ed up. Karma got his ass."
Terry, who sat beside her for physical support, planted a kiss on her cheek. "Bad guys always get what's coming to them. Now Yamazaki can enjoy the smell of burnt skin for the second year in a row."
"Too bad there's no more opportunities to beat on Mr. Big." Ramon grumbled.
"Eh, we can always jump him in the street." Vanessa winked.
"...I love you, you know?"
"Shut up, Ramon."
Once the theatrics were over... Saisyu's face grew serious. He approached Yamazaki, who had helped himself back to his feet, albeit grimacing the whole way. With no compassion for the wicked, Saisyu grabbed his shoulders.
"Tell me everything you know about the Hakkeshu. NOW!" he commanded.
Yamazaki, through pained grunts, spoke. "Well... they're assholes, doomsday cultists, hopelessly deluded loonies..."
"What are they trying to do?" he demanded.
Yamazaki shrugged. "They're just tryna win the tournament. It's the stupidest plan ever. But eh, more power to em."
Realizing that questioning Yamazaki was useless, Saisyu released him. "Thank you. Go get yourself checked out."
Saisyu parted ways with the thug, where he met Chizuru with an affectionate victory hug. Yamazaki also started to take his leave, rubbing his skin painfully. He kept on walking, until he was eventually met with the smirking Mature and Vice.
"What the hell was that, Ryuji?"
"A pathetic defeat."
"You didn't even try."
"I knew you'd lose your nerve."
"You're a quitter."
Yamazaki brought his hand up, cupped it, spread the fingers... and snapped it shut. "I'm done with this crap. Shut up. Go away."
With a simultaneous shrug, the women took their leave, but not without parting words.
"Pff. Fine. You baby."
"Go cry about it. Sore loser."
"Your loss, our gain."
Yamazaki sarcastically wiggled his fingers bye bye, and sent the two on their way. As the paramedics finally approached to tend to him... his lips curved into that usual maniacal smile.
"Heh. Morons. It's more fun to watch the shit cannon go off, than stand in front of it. When this is all said and done... I'll come out of this looking the prettiest of you bozos."
ROUND 3 FIGHT #2: KULA DIAMOND VS KING
All things considered, the Kumites hadn't treated King very badly. Two years in a row now, she had defied great odds, and scored epic upsets. Being the commanding force of the Women's Team, she had a reputation to uphold: and uphold it well, she did.
King treated this fight no different than the rest. It was simply another test; another challenge against her pride, to try and disparage the great legacy she had built over so many tournaments. Big tried to do it. Vice tried to do it. And now, it seemed the Hostess herself was stepping up to bat.
When King looked upon her shorter, blue-haired opponent... she could help but let out an ironic laugh.
"So you're my executioner, huh?"
Kula, ignorant to all the drama that had transpired around King, just stood there, casually. "I don't know what you're talking about."
King's snickers finally died down, as she assumed a fighting stance. "Ahh don't worry about it, kiddo. You look cute today."
Kula had chosen a much different wardrobe for Day 5 (to Diana and Foxy's chagrin): she was demonstrating her true Gothic chops, sporting a pair of black leather shorts, with thigh-high black stockings. A jet-black t-shirt, the bottom slightly cut off an inch or so. A chain belt, dangling through her loops. To complete the image, she was wearing dark purple nail polish, and her eyes were clearly darkened by a thick layer of mascara. And, if one didn't look carefully enough... they would miss the silver skull earrings lodged in her lobes. The only thing on her, still normal, was the suppressive metallic gloves she kept on her hands...
"I went shopping yesterday." Kula monotonously responded. "Diana and Foxy hate it."
A snicker. "Well, I hate to mess up your wardrobe, sweetie... but this is a fight, not a fashion show." King spoke with determined eyes. "En garde."
FIGHT!
Kula seemed to take a page from Yamazaki's book: standing there casually, hands at her sides, no attempt whatsoever at a fighting stance. If one didn't know better, they'd think the girl wasn't even here for a fight: she might have gotten lost on the way to the mall, or the ice cream shop.
Despite this, King knew very well what Kula was capable of, and knew exactly why Rose chose HER. Damned if she was going to acknowledge it, though; if she didn't believe she could win, the fight was already lost before it began.
King stepped in deep, firing a sharp leg kick; Kula's acrobatic ability allowed her to lift her leg up high and dodge it, but King twirled around smoothly with a spinning hook kick behind it. Again she hit nothing, as Kula's ice-powered feet propelled her backwards. King didn't let up, however; she pressed forward, firing a left kick to the body, a right kick to the head... Kula's speed still proved too much, as she slid out of the way.
To King's annoyance, Kula sprouted ice skates, and began skating around the perimeter of the circle. A rather impressive and improbable feat: Kula obviously was using her ice powers to help skate on the dirt surface.
Around... around... around... she circled King constantly, as if to mock the Frenchwoman. King, who always struggled to keep a cool head, let it get to her in the worst way.
"Grrrrrr... DOUBLE STRIKE!"
Kula skidded to a halt. Turned to face the two fireballs, coming at her in succession. She instead rushed towards them; one wave of her hand froze the first projectile, and she gracefully twirled around to swing her hand and freeze the second one.
"VENOM STRIKE!" King fired a third one.
...Kula stood completely still, merely watching as the fireball soared towards her at high speed...!
...Without even lifting a hand, her eyes widened; irises glowed neon red, and, in the instant the projectile reached her personal space... it was reduced to a ball of ice, just like the previous two.
"Foutus surpuissants jerks..." King cursed under her breath, obviously fed up with the matchups she'd gotten this year. To add insult to injury... Kula was back on the damn ice skates!
With a cheeky little smile from the ice doll, Kula skated right up to King with no defenses. King, angry, tried to swing an elbow; Kula ducked under it and skated past her. King tried a spinning back elbow; once again, it missed its target, as the ice skater had full mobility.
King wanted to knock her down so badly. She pressed forward, throwing a powerful combination 1-2 kicks. Kula parried the shots, taking them well on her arms.
King took a DEEP step... and threw her most powerful, hip-thrusting kick of the fight yet.
The next thing she saw was a blue blur, and her foot strike a solid object.
"What the...?!"
The body of the person she kicked appeared very much to be Kula Diamond... but only in shape and appearance, as the object before her bore no human flesh, nor eyes, nor bones, not any features of a person. It was a damned ice sculpture!
"Grrrr! HAAAAGH!" King, with an annoyed growl, freed her foot from the ice clone and smashed it angrily, reducing it to chunks.
She looked ahead: the real Kula was still skating around, playfully, as if the fight was a fun game for her. After about ten more seconds, Kula did a pirouette, stopping in place, and de-activated the ice skates.
She stood there, and stared King down. A face that didn't bear any malice, yet didn't appear kindhearted. A face that didn't intend to mock, but also would look the other way from mercy. The only way King could really describe the face Kula was looking at her with was... ice.
The staredown finally subsided, as Kula once again donned ice blades on her feet, and began once again skating, this time closing the distance between them.
Fine with King. As soon as Kula came in, she tried to deck her with a closed fist; Kula ducked the punch, and King tensed up as she felt a sharp jab to her liver. Teeth grimaced on instinct, as King tried to play through the pain and rush the ice girl: two quick jabs popped her in the nose, stopping her advance altogether.
She shook her head one time, and growled angrily. "HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
She stepped in with a big roundhouse; Kula ducked under it and skated behind King. The next thing the Frenchwoman felt was her stationary leg give out, as Kula had stomped her in the back of the knee.
"MERDE- ghhhkkkk...!"
King felt Kula's arms snake around her, and she knew she was stuck in a chokehold. She immediately tried to fight it, slipping her fingers under the arms to pry them loose... but Kula had other plans. The ice girl raised her arm, curved the elbow... two vertical elbows rained down into King's ribs, and the Frenchwoman felt her air leave her.
Thankfully, breathing was restored, as the arms released their grip around her neck; the next thing King felt was a shove from behind, as she stumbled forward wildly... and then she was on her butt, as what felt like a speeding Zamboni soared into her from behind, taking out her legs at the knees.
King landed directly on her tailbone... and her body flopped backwards, hitting the dirt with a dust cloud.
"Urrrfff... cough cough... urghh..."
Her wind was knocked out. Her eyes were stuck looking up, at the blinding sun, stinging her vision... but on the bright side, no sadistic ground n' pound had come her way, so the ice girl was at least being respectful. Maybe she could even get back up and try again.
And that she did.
Kula was showing no urgency to end the fight, simply standing there and watching with those cute red eyes, as King helped herself back to her feet. She was even nice enough to let King assume a fighting stance again...
With a hiss through closed teeth, King sprang into action. "VENOM STRIKE!"
The fireball soared fast. Kula just barely put her hands up in time to freeze it... but her eyes widened and she gasped as King was coming at her!
"TORNADO KICK!"
King's chi-fueled kick smashed through the frozen ball, and nailed Kula with both hits. Kula was sent backwards in a wild stumble, but didn't go down; a flying knee from King rammed into her stomach, freezing her, and Kula's still-standing position proved a detriment, as King seized her in the Thai Clinch. Hands secured around the back of her head, King started ramming knees into her stomach! One.. two... three... four...!
"Urggh! AGHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhh!" Kula gave a desperate wail, and King was enveloped in a flash of blue...
...Next thing she knew, her hands were chilly. She was now holding an ice clone.
"Not again with this shit...!" King, with raw, angry strength, actually lifted the thing above her head and threw it aside. The distraction allowed Kula a moment to recover from the blows... but Kula was still close, and King was feeling momentum start to shift...!
King ran at her, with intent to knock out. She swung on her once, twice... her fists came dangerously close to hitting their target.
She cocked back, fist clenched, and threw a powerful straight left... right down the button...
...The next thing she felt was her knuckles flare up with pain, and her fingers go nearly numb.
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! Freaking frick, frick... frick...!"
King was bouncing up and down now, flailing her fingers wildly to air out the sensation of pain. To her credit, she had actually made a fist-shaped dent... but the fact still stood, she had punched an ice sculpture, and it HURT.
The real Kula, taking advantage of this situation, placed her hand upon the newly-formed ice clone... her eyes grew dark red.
KABOOOOOOOOOM!
She infused the sculpture with so much ice, it overloaded the mannequin, and caused an effect similar to detonating a grenade. King was caught head-on in the explosion, which by itself was bad enough... but the fragmentation was the worst part, as her body was BLOWN backwards and riddled with little ice pellets, pelting her in all her muscles and nerves.
As King lay on the ground, groaning in pain... she felt like someone had shot her with a hailstorm-powered shotgun.
WINNER: KULA DIAMOND
Thus ended, an exciting... and unlikely... run for Cecille Levasseur, the beautiful and brilliant King who defied more than one oddsmaker.
She lay there, understandably bitter. Once or twice, her fist pounded the dirt next to her.
"Urrgh... damn it all..."
The footsteps of Kula slowly approached, until King looked up; the ice girl was standing over her, face showing no addition of sympathy... or boastfulness.
King wasn't sure how to gauge it... until the ice girl held out her hand, offering support.
"Sorry I destroyed you. I hope I grow up to be as pretty as you one day."
King, her face growing red, took the hand and helped herself up. "Ummm... th-thanks?"
Out of nowhere, Kula flashed a childlike smile. "Bye~!"
King was left standing there with wonder, as the ice girl gleefully ran away, where she met Diana with a flying glomp. The woman accepted Kula into her arms, as she and Foxy bubbled her in warmth and kisses.
King pouted. "Hmph... now I can't even be mad at the little runt..."
Two fights down, six to go!
NEXT CHAPTER: Two more fights for your viewing pleasure. The return of everyone's favorite busty kunoichi... as well as one of my favorite heels lol. Until next time!
But first, we still have some words to spare. BONUS SCENE!
BONUS SCENE
Lien didn't figure there was any rush in achieving her hit; if anything, waiting would help her out tremendously, as the nighttime would shroud her more, and Adelheid would hopefully be weakened by today's combat.
She was content to lounge around the day, currently sitting at an outside cafe, enjoying a chai tea, while watching the tournament action unfold on a television that had been set up for patrons to watch. Despite no interest in the actual tournament, her eyes couldn't refrain from carefully scanning the combatants... measuring their speed, their finesse, and comparing it to their own. Whatever they were... in her mind, she had to be more. That's why she kept watching.
Her eyes left; immediately she shot up from the table, just in time to give a slight gasp, as her chai tea was forcefully knocked from her hands and obliterated on the spot!
With an annoyed huff, she looked down to gather evidence: a shuriken, lodged in her now-devoid cup.
"Nice! You're still sharp."
Lien's eyes narrowed, as she already knew who it was. She folded her arms, looking up, at the roof over her head: a quirky-looking girl, donning a strange yellow-black feathery hairdo, spectacles shimmering on her face, was hanging upside down, smirking at her.
"What are you doing here, Little Bee?" Lien hissed out in an unpleasant tone, slightly stepping back, cautious of her old rival.
"I'm here for the same reason you are." Nagase replied. She slowly slid off the roof... until her body fell, and she frontflipped to the ground in style. Her finger reached up to gently rub the bottom of her nose.
"You're a lapdog for Addes." Lien frowned, eyes scanning Nagase up and down... and really observing the sheer absurdity of the girl's honeybee-colored attire.
Nagase shrugged. "Duhhh... it's called a job. People need em. But this is my down time~!"
"Whacking some German pretty boy interests you enough to come here?" Lien's eye cocked.
Nagase flicked her nose. "Two and a half mil interests me. Plus..."
With a cocky grin, Nagase flashed her own piece of technology: a wrist-mounted disc compartment, shimmering with the same gold as the power gauntlet Lien wore.
"All the best fighters in the world here. Gotta get me that sweeeeeeeeeeeet data~"
Lien took a threatening stomp forward, extending her fist... her gauntlet glowed with a green hue. "Listen up, and listen good, Little Bee: this is my job. My contract. My kill. MINE. If you get in my way, I'll make sure you die first... and I'll bury you with all your precious data. Stay. Out. Of my way."
With that, a sassy spin of her heels, and a twirl of her poofy hair, Lien stomped away, leaving Nagase standing there.
...A small grin plastered on the ninja girl's lips. "Nahhh, it's much more fun to f*** with you."
