Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first round of the fourth Mishima Ziabatsu The King of Iron Fist' Tournament!

The announcers words were greeted with frenetic cheering from the crowd.

Our competitors tonight are the Emperor of Brutality, the King of Pain, Craig Marduk!

Marduk circled his side of the ring like a predator, scowling at the booing crowd.

And the beautiful, the deadly Christie Monteiro!

Christie flirted with the crowd, blowing kisses as they cheered and applauded her. A few rows from the front, Dai smirked.

It may work on the crowd, but I don't think Marduk is impressed, she said, leaning towards Hwoarang. He nodded.

I can't see her getting many wolf-whistles once he's finished with her, either. he agreed. He paused for a moment. Hell, I can't see her getting up once he's finished with her.

The bell rang and the fight begun. Christie began a frenzied, whirling attack, taking Marduk's legs from underneath him. As he fell heavily, his expression turned from surprise to outraged. He lunged at the young woman with surprising speed for his size, landing a heavy blow to her midriff.

She stumbled back, clearly winded. However, she was aware enough to dodge Marduk's attempt to grab her, wincing as she sprang backwards. She followed her dodge with an attack of her own.

In theory, it should have worked - the momentum should have toppled the behemoth. Unfortunately for Christie, Marduk had learnt not to underestimate her, and was ready. He rolled with the kick, grabbed her head, and promptly thrust it into a mirrored pillar.

Dai winced. She'll feel that in the morning.

The announcer began the count, as Christie lay prone on the floor. Marduk stood looking at her, wearing an inscrutable expression.



Christie stirred, raising her head. With a monumental effort, she pulled herself up, wiping away the blood tricking from the gash above her eye. She took a few deep breaths before throwing herself back into battle.

She's got guts, you've gotta give her that, Hwoarang said. And I think she may have impressed Marduk now.

Despite her valiant efforts, Christie was soon beaten down. She sat propped against the pillar that was stained with her own blood, her head in her hands as Marduk was declared the winner. She looked up as a shadow fell over her.

Marduk was staring down at her. You fight well, he said, his voice so low it was a barely audible rumble.

For a girl', she said bitterly guessing what his next line would be. To her surprise, he smiled.

No. For anyone. And he walked away, surrounded by fight groupies and other assorted sycophants.

Dai and Hwoarang headed to the bar. The tables and chairs were being returned to their rightful places, and the blood was being cleaned from the dance floor. As the music started pumping, Dai started laughing.
Dare I ask? Hwoarang said quizzically. Dai accepted her drink from the bartender, and turned to her companion.

Sorry. I was just remembering the last time I was in a nightclub...

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes. You know, I'm remembering all this. If we face each other in the tournament, I'll make you eat those words. He grinned. Assuming you don't get knocked out in your first fight, that is...

Dai refused to let him get a rise out of her. We'll see.

I got the updated tournament plan, Hwoarang said, changing the subject. It's been adjusted to make way for a late entrant.

Dai said peering at the sheet Hwoarang had placed on the bar. I hadn't had a chance to look at the changes. Who's the latecomer?

Some guy called Kazuya Mishima-

Dai spluttered her drink and began coughing, beating her chest as she looked at Hwoarang incredulously. He placed an arm around her and motioned for the bartender to get a glass of water.

Are you okay? Hwoarang asked with a mixture of bemusement and concern. Dai nodded as she gratefully received the water from the bartender. Hwoarang raised a brow. I take it you know this guy?

You really don't know who he is, do you? Dai said, finally composed herself. He shrugged.

From the name, I'd guess he was a relation of Heihachi Mishima? he ventured.

Dai shook her head. He's his son - the Kazuya Mishima. He was the head of the Ziabatsu after the first tournament. Ringing any bells yet?

Hwoarang looked apologetic. I don't pay much attention to that kind of stuff.

For pity's sake, Dai rolled her eyes. Winner of the first tournament? Your teacher's boss? Didn't he tell you anything about his time at the Ziabatsu?

Hwoarang looked into his drink, pulling his arms away from her. For a few moments he was silent, a melancholic expression on his face.

He didn't tell me much, no, he said eventually. He told me he had worked at the Ziabatsu at one point, and that he had done things he was ashamed of. I didn't ask for the details.

Hwoarang, I'm sorry, she said softly. It's just...well, I thought everyone on this circuit had heard of Kazuya Mishima - he won the first tournament, after all.

Then what's with the spluttering and the choking, then? he frowned. Why so surprised?

Because Kazuya Mishima is dead - or is supposed to be. Heihachi threw him into a volcano twenty years ago.

Hwoarang breathed. How...how come he survived? He frowned. And if Kazama is Heihachi's grandson, does that mean that Kazuya is...

His father. Yes. Dai breathed deeply. This changes everything.

She stood up, sliding off her seat. I've just got to make a phone call.