Hey, Dai!

Dai turned to the beaming American. All well with the bike, I hope?

Paul Phoenix nodded, tightening a wrist guard. Not a scratch, just like you said. You kept your word, kid.

She spread her arms, and bowed slightly. Of course.

The sports hall was a bustling hive of activity, although the camera crews had less to do as much of their equipment had remained overnight. Also remaining was a disturbing reminder of the previous day's fight; they had removed the bloodstains from the waxed floor, but the splatters on the walls stubbornly remained.

You catch the fight yesterday? Paul asked, cricking his neck.

Yeah, on TV, Dai answered, removing her coat. She was, Hwoarang realised, wearing exactly the same clothes as on the night he first saw her in that Australian nightclub; black flares, black t-shirt with a sun logo...

Perhaps I should point it out, he wondered with a grin. Girls love it when you remember that kind of stuff.

Hey, what's with your sidekick, Paul asked, chuckling. He's grinnin' like a Cheshire.

Hwoarang, suddenly realising he was the current topic of conversation, started.

He wants to know what's funny, Dai said in Korean, I'm intrigued, too.

I do speak English! Hwoarang reminded her - in English. And my thoughts are my own. For now.

Paul drawled. He decided to carry on with the previous conversation. Anyway, when I saw that Kazama kid beating the living hell outta Nina Williams, I was like, Woah! That kid's crazier than his old man! And his grandfather!' It must be genetic, or something.

Yeah, must be, Dai replied quietly. She smirked slightly.

Ready for a whuppin', old man? she asked, in a fair imitation of Paul's accent. He grinned.

Not even on your best day, limey, he retorted.

Hwoarang felt slightly apprehensive. He was certain that Phoenix wouldn't go over the top with brute force, but he knew that he wouldn't hold back, either. He had seen Dai fight against Steve Fox, knew what she was capable of. It hadn't taken her much effort to win that fight, and Hwoarang still felt a little uncomfortable thinking about it.

But, on reflection, Dai had had the upper hand from the start; she was an unknown quantity, whereas Steve Fox's fights had been broadcast across the globe; she was a master of many varied arts, he was a boxer, and used to fighting other boxers exclusively. And, he was a bit squeamish about actually hitting a girl - that certainly wasn't something he had had to contend with in the professional boxing circuit.

Paul, on the other hand, was a veteran of these sort of tournaments; he had fought against a myriad of opponents and their fighting styles, and he knew that the female contenders weren't fragile, delicate flowers. They were fighters, as lethal in their own way as he was in his.

They walked to the centre of the hall, and bowed, before dropping into fighting stances.


Paul went in straight away, skidding across the floor, aiming an extended elbow to Dai's ribs. She span out of the way, using the opportunity to land a spinning back kick into his side. He staggered slightly, and nodded. Taking a leaf out of her book, he waited for her to make the next move.

He saw a slight twitch in her foot So she was going for a kick....

She threw her leg towards him, but Paul deftly knocked it aside, knocking her off balance. Grabbing one of her flailing arms, he pulled her towards him and threw her over his shoulder. Dai landed with a thud, and a wince.

And then a grin.

Paul was still bent over from the throw, his arms entangled in hers whilst she lay on her back. Using her shoulders as a pivot, she rocked her legs in the air...and around her opponent's neck. As an automatic reflex, his hands grabbed her thighs, trying to release the choking pressure.

It looks like some sort of bizarre sexual position, one onlooker commented. Hwoarang scowled at him.

Do you mind? That's my girlfriend you're talking about.

Lucky you, the other said.

With her hands free, Dai tried to swing like a pendulum between Paul's legs, in an effort to pull him forward. He sensed her intentions, however, and managed to stand straight, despite the weight of Dai hanging from his neck.

Using that same momentum, Dai did the mother of all stomach curls, throwing Paul onto his back. She let out a gasp as her knees impacted on the floor, and she rolled away.

Paul choked, rubbing his throat, Did you learn that?

Rocky IV, she answered. I think. The one with Dolph Lungdren.

Rocky IV, Paul confirmed. But I don't remember seeing that.

Err, I improvised a little, Dai conceded. It's the bit where Rocky's doing stomach crunches whilst hanging from a wooden beam.

Paul said, regaining his wind. That movie sucked.

Yes, it did, Dai chuckled. But I can still use it to kick your arse. But that's not saying much-

Dai threw a side kick, followed by a knife-hand strike to the throat. It connected, but not as forcefully as she would have liked. Paul dropped low with a sweeping kick, taking her off her legs, and followed it with another sliding elbow. Her skidding journey across the waxed floor came to an abrupt halt as she slammed into a camera rig.

Paul's jaw dropped as Dai sprang back up, apparently suffering no ill-effects from the torrent of abuse her body had just received. She tilted her head to one side slightly.

Where was I? she asked ponderously, before breaking into a smirk. Oh, that's right...kicking your arse.

Launching into a series of acrobatic spinning kicks, Paul dodged out of the way. Dai landed lightly, dropping into a low stance. Grinning, she launched another offensive; Paul parried, but couldn't get a blow of his own in.

Seeing an opportunity, he grabbed Dai's arm, and rolled her onto the ground. Instinctively, he landed a blow on her face; first blood had been drawn.
Hwoarang forced himself to remain calm. It was a futile effort, he knew, but was noble to try. The urge to charge into the ring and beat the hell out of the American was almost irresistible, but he knew that he owed it to Dai not to interfere in her fights.

Besides, he thought dryly, I'll be the one who ends up being covered in ice-packs...

Dai stood up, still perfectly steady, and gave a respectful nod to her opponent. She pressed a finger against one nostril, and blew through the other, resulting in a disgusting mass of dark red slime, which she wiped and flicked on the floor. Paul cringed.

Kid...that's gross!

she said, still smiling. A small but persistent trickle of blood tickled her upper lip.

She avoided his blows, twisting and bending her body in a way that seemed to defy gravity.

And then she struck.

Usually, spinning back kicks are not recommended in fights against experienced opponents - they can see them coming from a mile away. But Dai was quick; so quick, that she appeared to Hwoarang to be a blur. She launched the kick solidly into Paul's torso, sending the man flying across the ring a good ten metres.

Go, Dai! Hwoarang bellowed.

Paul collapsed on the floor, and after a minute the announcer knelt by his side. Paul raised his head slightly, looking groggy, said something...and then the announcer nodded. He raised Dai's hand in victory.

There was polite applause from the puzzled crowd; in some circles, Phoenix had been considered a sure-fire winner, not just of this fight, but of the entire tournament. After the beating he had handed out to Julia Chang, it surprised some to see him now slumped on the floor. After quickly embracing Hwoarang, Dai went to her beaten opponent.

Hey, Paul! she said, looking at his glazed eyes. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Hey! Old timer!

His eyes flickered, becoming more alert. Blinking a few times, like a man who had just woken from a deep sleep, he turned his head towards her, blanching at the effort. He attempted a lopsided smile.

Are you sure...you're not...one of those Jack' cyborgs? he breathed heavily. Crap, I think you broke a rib...

No, I feel fine, Dai said straight faced.

I'm sure, he said, rolling his eyes. He felt his ribs gingerly, and hissed. Dai looked apologetic, and moved her hand to his side.

Let's have a look-



Don't be such a bloody puff, she chided.

Hey kid, does your girl always feel up her opponents? Paul teased Hwoarang. Dai turned, noticing that his face was like a thundercloud, his arms folded in an obvious expression of displeasure.

she chuckled. Good job I didn't kick you anywhere else!

Paul shuffled into a more upright position, his eyes fully alert now. He moved his arms experimentally, and, seemingly satisfied, turned to Dai.

I think I'm fine now, kid, he assured her. I think my body's gotten over the shock-

Of being thrashed by a girl? a familiar, amused voice chimed in. Paul rolled his eyes.

Hello, Marshall, he sighed, seeing his friend approach. At least I didn't get thrashed by a girl in the first round.

Marshall Law grinned. Ha! I suppose I asked for that, he said good-naturedly. You know, we're getting too old for this.

I could of told you that! Hwoarang smirked. Dai threw a frosty glare at him.

It has been an honour to fight against you, Mr Phoenix, she said, genuine respect in her voice. She bowed deeply. Paul sighed.

Same here, he said. Painful, but an honour...I think. Just go easy on the next guy, okay?

She shot a look at Hwoarang and grinned. Depends who it is!