DISCLAIMER: All characters in this story are the property of Namco.
Just as the weather forecasters predicted earlier that week, the rainfall was heavy in that part of South Korea that day. Baek ran his hand back through his long untied black hair, which was by now soaking wet. He stood just outside the cemetery gates, watching the rain assault the flowers he laid on the ground. His father didn't want them he guessed, and was now trying to rip them apart. He could never bring himself to go inside the cemetery. He had no right to; not after what he had done.
Baek could still remember that night. They had an argument. He couldn't even remember what it was about. But it was an argument they had had many times before. He was angry at his father just sitting in his wheelchair, weak. Not the man he once remembered and looked up to as one of the best Tae Kwon Do experts in the world. Now he could barely support their family, which was spiraling down further into poverty. His father said something to him, something that had hit a nerve. And then, he just lost it. He struck with every attack his father taught him, the same man he was beating now. He could hear his mother crying, shouting for him to stop. She grabbed his arms trying to restrain him, but he just flung her away into one of the furniture and turned his attention back to his father. His mother continued crying for him to stop, but he didn't listen, it simply drove him on. And with each hit he connected, the angrier he got at the defenseless old man.
Someone had called the police; a neighbor perhaps, who heard the disturbance. He didn't know he didn't care; he just stared at his father's lifeless body, not quite comprehending all that had just happened. When they took him away, he didn't attempt any resistance, he didn't every try to run. Their neighbors were gathered outside. He didn't know if they were shocked or angry or both, he didn't look at any of them. He just looked down, his eyes never leaving the ground.
Baek looked up. Tears were trailing down his face, but they were washed away by the rain. He turned to walk to where he parked his car. As he was about to cross the street, a black stretch limo pulled up in front of him.
The black tinted windows slid down and a voice came from inside it. "Get inside Mr. Doo San."
Baek's eyes sharpened, struggling to see the face hidden by the shadows. "I already have a ride, thank you very much."
The figure handed him an envelope over the window. "I wasn't asking Mr. Doo San."
Baek opened the envelope and pulled out a file. It contained everything about him, including his police records. "What do you want?"
"Get inside and we'll discuss some business." The door opened and Baek cautiously stepped inside, sitting on the seat directly opposite to the mysterious gentleman. The water on his wet clothes settled on the leather seat of the interior.
Once inside, Baek could finally get a clear view of the person. It was a man who looked to be in mid-twenties. He could tell he was Japanese and was wearing an expensive purple suit. Baek handed the rain-soaked file back to him. "Who are you?"
"Drive." The man said to the driver and turned his attention back to Baek. Then taking the file and not breaking his stare, the man started. "My name is Mishima Kazuya, perhaps you've heard of me."
Of course Baek heard of him. Competing in underground pit fights all over Seoul, he's heard the name of Kazuya tossed around quite a lot. From what he could gather, he used to be involved in pit fights himself, until he inherited his father's company by throwing the old man off a cliff. Now he's the leader of a criminal organization that's spread all through out the globe. Baek finally spoke up. "Yeah, I know who you are."
"I've seen you fight Mr. Doo San, you were particularly brutal. I could use someone of your skill." He paused for a bit. "I came here Mr. Doo San to ask you to do a job for me."
"And if I refuse?" Baek asked. He already knew the answer, but he had to hear it.
"I understand that you weren't exactly approved for release from police custody Mr. Doo San." Kazuya stated plainly. "But enough small talk," he handed Baek another file, "here is the assignment I want you to do."
"Hold on, I didn't even say that I agreed to this." Baek raised his voice, not accepting the file.
"It's not a choice Mr. Doo San." Kazuya said coldly, looking him in the eye. Baek thought about it for a while and knew the man was right. Baek took the file from his hands. He opened the file and saw a picture of a Chinese-looking man, smiling; a small dojo in the background. Kazuya then resumed talking. "I want you to kill him. His name is Marshall Law. That dojo in the background is his; I want you to destroy it. I need that property." Baek felt the car stop. "All the information you need on him is in that file. I'll contact you for further instructions." Kazuya then reached over to the door and opened it. "Don't worry Mr. Doo San you will be paid handsomely for your services."
Baek stepped out of the limo and was now back outside the cemetery; it had stopped raining. He again started heading back towards his car, the file in his hand. He got inside and threw the file on the passenger seat. He leaned his head back and sighed. "What have I gotten myself into."
Just as the weather forecasters predicted earlier that week, the rainfall was heavy in that part of South Korea that day. Baek ran his hand back through his long untied black hair, which was by now soaking wet. He stood just outside the cemetery gates, watching the rain assault the flowers he laid on the ground. His father didn't want them he guessed, and was now trying to rip them apart. He could never bring himself to go inside the cemetery. He had no right to; not after what he had done.
Baek could still remember that night. They had an argument. He couldn't even remember what it was about. But it was an argument they had had many times before. He was angry at his father just sitting in his wheelchair, weak. Not the man he once remembered and looked up to as one of the best Tae Kwon Do experts in the world. Now he could barely support their family, which was spiraling down further into poverty. His father said something to him, something that had hit a nerve. And then, he just lost it. He struck with every attack his father taught him, the same man he was beating now. He could hear his mother crying, shouting for him to stop. She grabbed his arms trying to restrain him, but he just flung her away into one of the furniture and turned his attention back to his father. His mother continued crying for him to stop, but he didn't listen, it simply drove him on. And with each hit he connected, the angrier he got at the defenseless old man.
Someone had called the police; a neighbor perhaps, who heard the disturbance. He didn't know he didn't care; he just stared at his father's lifeless body, not quite comprehending all that had just happened. When they took him away, he didn't attempt any resistance, he didn't every try to run. Their neighbors were gathered outside. He didn't know if they were shocked or angry or both, he didn't look at any of them. He just looked down, his eyes never leaving the ground.
Baek looked up. Tears were trailing down his face, but they were washed away by the rain. He turned to walk to where he parked his car. As he was about to cross the street, a black stretch limo pulled up in front of him.
The black tinted windows slid down and a voice came from inside it. "Get inside Mr. Doo San."
Baek's eyes sharpened, struggling to see the face hidden by the shadows. "I already have a ride, thank you very much."
The figure handed him an envelope over the window. "I wasn't asking Mr. Doo San."
Baek opened the envelope and pulled out a file. It contained everything about him, including his police records. "What do you want?"
"Get inside and we'll discuss some business." The door opened and Baek cautiously stepped inside, sitting on the seat directly opposite to the mysterious gentleman. The water on his wet clothes settled on the leather seat of the interior.
Once inside, Baek could finally get a clear view of the person. It was a man who looked to be in mid-twenties. He could tell he was Japanese and was wearing an expensive purple suit. Baek handed the rain-soaked file back to him. "Who are you?"
"Drive." The man said to the driver and turned his attention back to Baek. Then taking the file and not breaking his stare, the man started. "My name is Mishima Kazuya, perhaps you've heard of me."
Of course Baek heard of him. Competing in underground pit fights all over Seoul, he's heard the name of Kazuya tossed around quite a lot. From what he could gather, he used to be involved in pit fights himself, until he inherited his father's company by throwing the old man off a cliff. Now he's the leader of a criminal organization that's spread all through out the globe. Baek finally spoke up. "Yeah, I know who you are."
"I've seen you fight Mr. Doo San, you were particularly brutal. I could use someone of your skill." He paused for a bit. "I came here Mr. Doo San to ask you to do a job for me."
"And if I refuse?" Baek asked. He already knew the answer, but he had to hear it.
"I understand that you weren't exactly approved for release from police custody Mr. Doo San." Kazuya stated plainly. "But enough small talk," he handed Baek another file, "here is the assignment I want you to do."
"Hold on, I didn't even say that I agreed to this." Baek raised his voice, not accepting the file.
"It's not a choice Mr. Doo San." Kazuya said coldly, looking him in the eye. Baek thought about it for a while and knew the man was right. Baek took the file from his hands. He opened the file and saw a picture of a Chinese-looking man, smiling; a small dojo in the background. Kazuya then resumed talking. "I want you to kill him. His name is Marshall Law. That dojo in the background is his; I want you to destroy it. I need that property." Baek felt the car stop. "All the information you need on him is in that file. I'll contact you for further instructions." Kazuya then reached over to the door and opened it. "Don't worry Mr. Doo San you will be paid handsomely for your services."
Baek stepped out of the limo and was now back outside the cemetery; it had stopped raining. He again started heading back towards his car, the file in his hand. He got inside and threw the file on the passenger seat. He leaned his head back and sighed. "What have I gotten myself into."