With a satisfying crunch, Kazuya's dislocated shoulder popped back into its socket, although there was no sign of the undeniable relief on his face. This King was every bit as tenacious and powerful as his predecessors, both the original bearer of the leopard visage, and the former Mishima Ziabatsu employee, Armour King. But, like his predecessors, he had soon learnt that wrestling was no match for the savage grace and power of the Mishima form karate, handed down from father to son for generations. Particularly not when its exponent also possessed the Devil Gene.

Kazuya had actually found himself admiring the young Mexican; he had put up a far better fight than that pathetic brother' of his. He had repeatedly pulled himself up after being floored, and had even managed to get Kazuya in several convoluted and almost limb shattering blows. However, the end result was inevitable; King had fallen after Kazuya had corkscrewed from the ground and delivered a punch that had nearly broken his neck. A fair trade, Kazuya thought, For the dislocated shoulder.

Taking a towel from one of his assistants, he glanced up as an announcement boomed through the speakers in multiple languages. The result of today's other battle was in-

Kazuya frowned. That battle had started nearly an hour after his own - for it to be finished already meant that it had all been over in a matter of minutes.

-victor, Jin Kazama, in a record one minute twenty-

Kazuya paused, before allowing a smirk to twist his face. Listening to the report, it seemed that his boy had indeed learnt a lesson in brutality from Heihachi. He also felt a grim satisfaction that the victim of that fury was Nina Williams, the foolish woman who believed herself a good enough assassin to kill him.

As the crowds and TV crews left the area, he gazed out at the busy cityscape beneath him. He leaned against an extravagant marble statue, a modern day gargoyle on the hotel's rooftop. Years ago the statue would have been covered in a greasy film, polluted by Tokyo's businesses and packed roads. Now, thanks to Heihachi's noble' efforts, much of the polluted was now cleared.

His father had done much to create an aura of altruism around the Mishima Ziabatsu, creating advances in ecologically friendly working practices, and mediating peaceful solutions to conflicts and disputes around the world. It was a sham, a ruse to make governments believe that Heihachi was a benevolent old man, intent on correcting some of the wrongs he had committed throughout his life. In reality, Kazuya knew that his father was winning their trust...and their contracts.

Sometimes Kazuya wondered who was more diabolical - Heihachi or himself.

It's fortunate for the world that father doesn't possess the Devil Gene, Kazuya thought wryly. Because if he did, he'd be Satan himself.

Lost in his musings, Kazuya took a few moments to realise that he was completely alone. He frowned; where were his aides? Turning at the sound of almost silent footsteps, he saw the Tekkenshu approaching. Sharp pain jabbed him at several points on his body, and as he pulled the dart out of his neck he gave an enraged roar. Soon enough, he knew, he would be unconscious, and that knowledge was made all the more bitter because he knew it was because of his own carelessness. As his vision became blurry, he steadied himself.

He would not go down without a fight.

********


Uhhh, I'll stay here, Hwoarang volunteered.

If you like, Dai replied, amusement seeping into her words.

She weaved through the bustling crowds, making her way to her target. Despite all the people, the girl cut a lonely figure, sitting under the tree. Her red jacket was pulled tightly around her, as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. Her dark eyes were bloodshot through crying, and she looked generally inconsolable.

I'm sorry to intrude, but are you Ling Xiaoyu?

The girl nodded, eying Dai suspiciously. Dai settled down next to her, ignoring her wary glances.

In the course of her work, Dai had learnt how to be subtle, circumspect...downright sneaky, even. However, she had also learnt that being blunt also worked.

Oh dear. It's Jin, isn't it?

The Chinese teenager started wailing uncontrollably, and Dai handed her a tissue. She waited for the hysterics to abate before continuing the conversation. Surprisingly, the girl pulled herself together quite quickly.

Who are you? she demanded through her sniffling. What do you know?

Dai shrugged. I know that you're in danger, and I know that Jin's in danger. I know that you're both on the run from the Mishima Ziabatsu. What I don't know is why you're crying.

Ling's face tightened. And why should I tell you anything?

Dai began, I can't think of a reason...other than I'm trying to help Jin. Before he kills someone.

Ling's chin began to tremble.

You saw the fight, didn't you, Dai said gently, a statement rather than a question. You saw how he fought, how he nearly went too far.

Ling breathed heavily. He's not bad. He's always been so gentle. Even though...even though he's never been interested in me, he's always been nice. Most guys, if they know you have a crush on them, they act like jerks...but he never did, she said shakily. He's always fought with respect for his opponents, but today...

Dai put an arm around the girl as she sobbed. I was there. I saw him, spoke to him, but he was so cold. He just looked at me. She shook her head uncomprehendingly. I looked into his eyes, but they weren't his eyes...

Did you see him afterwards?

Ling looked startled, as if she had just remembered that Dai was there. The suspicion returned.

Who are you? she demanded.

My name's Dai Martin. I'm a competitor in the tournament.

And what do you want with Jin?

Dai sighed. Like I said, to stop him before he kills someone. If he does, there will be no turning back. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Ling looked at her, frowning, unsure of what to think. Dai wondered how much she could tell the girl without putting her life in further danger. She bit her lip.

Ling, what I'm telling you now goes no further. Jin is in a whole world of trouble, from both Heihachi...and from himself.

Ling looked at her, opening her mouth to question-

You don't need to understand right now, just listen. Jin literally wasn't himself in that fight, and somehow, you know that. She added in a soft voice, And if you would have seen the expression on his face after the fight, you would have seen that he was terrified. He doesn't know what's happening. I can take him to people that can explain. If he makes it through this-

Ling whispered in horror. Dai looked both grim and sad.

If'. There are no guarantees. But if he does make it through, he will need friends to be there with him, who can be strong. Can you do that, Ling Xiaoyu?

Ling nodded weakly, hardly noticing the older girl's departure.