The night of the competition, Hwoarang sat in the locker room of an old warehouse. His gang and several females hung around him, encouraging and talking with him. He enjoyed participating in these events, as it provided some decent money and often gave him a good workout. Hwoarang had not lost a match at one of these in some time, he couldn't quite remember the exact number of times or years. No one at these things kept count either, not that it mattered.
Because of his record, Hwoarang only entered occasionally. It made it more of a surprise, but also kept competition coming in, as they did not have to worry about being beaten every time. He always made sure that no one in his gang fought against each other either, as it would fuel internal arguments. Hwoarang knew what made a good leader, at least in this world, and made sure that his gang followed his rules.
A few minutes before the fight, the locker room cleared, leaving only the fighters. Some looked nervous, on the verge of vomiting. Others sized up the competition, making plans for their fights. Only Hwoarang looked truly at peace, examining his clothing and looks more than anything else. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, along with boots. He had a pair of goggles on his head, keeping the hair out of his face. He had chaps over the jeans, looking ready to ride his bike just after the matches, if desired. They also provided some protection in the tournaments. One of his own rules was to always look good at these fights, as it as important to improve his image as well as his gang's. It didn't hurt his chances with the girls afterwards, either.
His gang was not the most powerful in the city, and defiantly not in the country, but they did have some respect. Most of it came from his abilities and skills as a fighter. No one gang ruled one complete area in the city, but he had some pull around where he lived, as well as near the gang's warehouse. It was more of an influence than direct rule or connections like in the movies. Usually, people kept to their own business and let the gangs do as they pleased. It was too hard to stop them, and sometimes it actually kept the crime level a bit lower.
"The matches will begin in a few minutes. All fighters are to report to the floor in one minute. This is your last chance to back out." Hwoarang turned and saw a lone man standing in the door. He wore a suit, and looked a bit out of place when compared with those left in the locker room. Each tournament had a different sponsor, sometimes a gang, and sometimes other people. Whoever ran the event could set up whatever rules they wanted. Since it was local, they could be quick and cheap.
Hwoarang briefly thought of the King of Iron Fist Tournament before each of these smaller ones. The winnings were meager, even by local standards, but the prestige and chance to hone their skills lead many fighters to continue their participation. Hwoarang was no different from them in that aspect. A group moved to the outside, and Hwoarang followed. He briefly thought of Isabella before the lights hit his face.
There was another man in a suit, possibly the sponsor, standing in the center of a large boxing ring, along with several large men. Hwoarang guessed they were bodyguards. He had never seen a sponsor like this one. He looked rich, and seemed to be well connected, but Hwoarang had no idea who he was. One man stood in the ring, holding a microphone. Hwoarang recognized him as the man from earlier.
"Now that our fighters are here," the voice from earlier began, "we will go over the rules. First, we will go by single elimination. Win and you continue, lose and you go home. We keep fighting until there is one winner. Each round will last two minutes, and there will be a maximum of three rounds per fight. If at the end of three rounds there is no clear winner, then we will decide ourselves. No weapons allowed, you may only use your body to fight. Anything else will disqualify you.
"The winner of tonight's tournament will receive 10,000 US dollars. For those of you who don't know how much that is, it is about 10 million wons." Several members of the crowd whistled. Hwoarang was impressed. "Second place will receive a consolation prize of 2,500 US dollars."
Hwoarang listened as they announced the schedule. Several people had not shown up, or left early, so a few fights had to be moved around. There were 25 people total fighting, which meant that it was an odd number to start with. The organizers ignored this problem, and let the last person fight the first winner. Hwoarang was set to fight in the seventh match, so he walked to the fighter's area to watch the matches.
Hwoarang had not been impressed with the fights. The first six winners were OK, but none of them worth his time. In fact, Hwoarang was sure he had fought several before, but he never bothered to remember them well. Instead, he watched the crowd closely, scanning for Isabella. He tried not to think about her, but he was curious to see if she would show up. He heard his name, and then made his way to the ring. Several girls cried for him, but he just smiled and waved, cocky as always. He glared at his opponent and waited for the match to start.
He was in no mood to take his time, so he decided to finish the fight quickly. He dodged two punches and then took his chance to rush the opponent. He smashed his left foot into the other man's chest and then followed with a series of quick kicks. The man fell to the floor, dazed and unable to move. He heard the referee declare the match over, and then did a series of victory kicks. It had been all too easy, and Hwoarang only hoped the rest went as well.
By the time it was Hwoarang's second fight quite some time had passed. The next few fights would hopefully move quicker, especially since the tournament was half over. He stood in the ring, sizing up the next opponent. He had missed their fight, taking some time to grab some beer, and flirt with some of the girls that were there. He had also needed to check up on the betting his gang members were making. They usually made good money from these things, outside of the prize money.
He was in the ring again, with more cheers from the crowd than earlier. More people started showing up, as was usual at these things. The matches towards the end of the tournament were always much more exciting and drew larger crowds. He decided to put on a bit more of a show in this round, and started off by tossing well placed glances to a group of girls clumped near the ring. They giggled and he heard more people scream his name. He then heard his opponent saying some things, but Hwoarang couldn't make out what he was saying.
"Just shut up already," he said, moving into a fighting stance. The match began, and Hwoarang rushed his opponent. The other man jabbed at Hwoarang, who easily dodged the move. He quickly kicked his foot across his opponent's face and then back again. He turned and followed with the other foot, sending the opponent stumbling backwards. He leapt into the air and did three short kicks, the Hunting Hawk move his master had perfected. His second match was over, another round that lasted under one minute. He walked over to his fallen opponent and sat on his heels.
"Not too fast, are you?" He said, glaring at them. He smirked and left the ring.
Hwoarang jumped into the ring for a third time. The time between the matches was getting shorter, but if the next few were like the first two he wouldn't break a sweat. His opponent for this match was larger, both in weight and height, and had a scar running down the left side of his face. Hwoarang had seen him fight earlier using mostly street moves. He briefly ran a few counter attacks in his mind and then jumped on the balls of his feet. Hwoarang loosely shook his arms and eased into a fighting stance.
His opponent charged at him, and Hwoarang easily blocked the first few punches. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone that looked familiar. He danced out of the way of his opponent and got a better look. It was Isabella, and she waved at him. He smiled and managed to block the next few attacks and return a few short punches and kicks of his own. He really had something to fight for this time – he was going to show Isa that he was the best.
Hwoarang watched as his foe once again charged at him. He moved to the side and delivered a powerful kick to their mid-section. The opponent stumbled backwards a few steps and Hwoarang caught another glance at Isa. He watched as someone tapped her shoulder and then tried to grab her hand. She shook it loose from his grip and then punched him directly in the nose. Hwoarang smiled as she proudly beamed up at him. Her smile turned quickly to a horrified expression, and Hwoarang turned his head back around. He was just in time to be hit in the face before he could raise his guard. It was his turn to take a few steps backward before regaining his composure.
He knew that it was time to end this match now. He waited for his opponent to come at him again. When they moved to punch, Hwoarang slipped into a stance for one of his special moves. He put his arm around the opponent's wrist, then turned both of their bodies and kicked him in the back of the head in one quick movement. The opponent fell face-forward, smacking the ground with his nose. Hwoarang heard the distinctive crack of bones breaking. Hwoarang watched as the challenger tried to get up, but decided to stay on the ground. Hwoarang sat on his back.
"Don't you have special moves or anything?" He then got up and let the match end. He had won his third round, but had to be ready to fight again after the next match. There were only three matches remaining, and Hwoarang would bet good money he would fight in the last two.
The second to last match was about to start. Hwoarang's next opponent was larger than the last, although this one was scar free. He noticed that Isa was still near the ring, although she was behind groups of other people. The room was packed full now, with not much space to move. The crowd seemed to be yelling more for Hwoarang than his opponent. Hwoarang smirked at the crowd and flexed his arms. He heard some girls squeal, and others call his name. Isa just shook her head and rolled her eyes, but he did notice a small smile on her face.
The match started, and Hwoarang quickly moved to the offensive. Whoever won this match had to fight in the next one. Hwoarang was damned if he was going to be injured or tired, so he decided to finish this fight as quickly as he could. He placed a few kicks on his foe's midsection, but wasn't fast enough to dodge a punch to his face. Hwoarang staggered backwards and shook his head. He slipped into a defensive stance and waited.
It didn't take the other man long to charge at Hwoarang. He used this moment to prepare for a counter attack, and he dodged his foe's attack. Hwoarang quickly turned and kicked the other man twice in the head. Again, he wasn't fast enough and the man grabbed his leg and tossed him to the ground. Hwoarang struggled to stand up, and then blocked the next few attacks. He could feel that his midsection was tender, but at this point there was nothing he could do about that. He had to finish this match and make it to the next one.
Hwoarang waited, and then saw an opening. He grabbed his opponent's wrist, and ran up his body. He used the momentum to flip over his head and kick them in the head. As soon as he landed he kicked them three times, and then did a sweeping kick. He watched as the foe crumpled into a ball on the floor. He wait, and saw the other man stand up. As soon as he did, Hwoarang grabbed his wrist again and flipped them to the ground. He jumped on top of his body and punched him in the face, repeatedly. He quickly hopped up and waited.
When the other man stood up, Hwoarang jumped into the air and completed the Hunting Hawk move. His opponent fell to the ground, and this time did not stand back up. Hwoarang walked over to the corner of the ring and slumped against the ropes. One of his gang members handed him a bottle of water, which Hwoarang drank quickly. The final opponent was now standing in the ring, and it was time to finish this tournament. He noticed that the sponsor was not there, and he vaguely remembered the man disappearing after the start. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure that the man he saw was the sponsor. Someone that rich would probably hide in the crowd, or just have someone else report to him later. Hwoarang knew that people like that had to protect their identity. It was probably just an assistant or a stand-in for the real sponsor. He vaguely wondered what the real sponsor was like.
Hwoarang didn't have much time to ponder about these things though, as the final match began. The noise from the crowd swelled, but Hwoarang was able to block it out for the most part. He was good at concentrating on the match at hand, and the only time in recent memory he lost his focus was when he saw Isa. But now, he was ready. The last opponent was closer to Hwoarang in size and weight. He had watched him fight earlier, but didn't recognize the style. Like most of the people there, it was probably a mismatch of various styles picked up on the street.
The pair stood, sizing each other up, until the match began. They both attacked and connected. The two moved backwards and settled into fighting positions. Hwoarang was tired and ready for the tournament to end. He guessed that the other felt the same, but Hwoarang had to win. He always won, and besides, he had someone to impress that night. He waited for the other man to attack, and then he made his move. He quickly kicked, side-stepping any attacks from the opponent.
Until now, Hwoarang had been holding back a little. He decided he didn't care anymore and went all out for the final match. After some ten kicks, Hwoarang moved back and then launched himself into the air. He did one quick kick before landing on the ground and placing three jabs. The opponent seemed stunned, and Hwoarang took his chance. He grabbed the foe by his arm, placed his foot on the midsection, and flipped him over his head. The opponent hit the floor, hard.
When he stood back up, Hwoarang rushed again, launched into a series of four kicks. He switched stances and continued the assault. By now, his foe was tired and weak, unable to block many of the attacks. Hwoarang placed a hard kick to the man's midsection and followed it with a series of jabs and backhand fists. The opponent started to sag, and Hwoarang moved back to kick him in the head. The other man fell to the ground, the match over. Hwoarang performed a few quick kicks, jumping and landing in a stance. He then turned and smirked to the crowd.
A judge grabbed his hand and declared him the winner. He heard shouting and chanting from the crowd, cheering for him. Hwoarang flexed her arm muscles for the girls and turned to the judge. The man handed him a card. He started talking and Hwoarang had to strain to hear the other man.
"On that card you find an address. Please come by at the listed date and time to collect your winnings. Congratulations." He watched as the judge moved off and then stuffed the card into his pocket. The room was clearing, and Hwoarang made his way to the locker room to clean up a bit. He and his gang needed to go celebrate now. Hwoarang hopped out of the ring and pushed his way through the remaining crowd to the back locker area. There were a few people left there, but no one said anything to anyone else.
Hwoarang found his stuff and walked to the mirror. He wasn't bleeding, and he couldn't see any places that looked broken. There were several places that felt tender, however, and he knew he would probably have some bruises for the next few days. But the prize money more than made up for all of that, and besides, it was his fault. He splashed some water on his face and ran his wet fingers through his hair. Hwoarang quickly dried his face on his towel and then left the locker room.
He saw his gang standing with the usual group of women. He walked over to them and relished the attention they poured on to him. A few of the girls stood, clinging to his body. He smirked and laughed with his gang, and they headed for the door. At that moment, he saw Isa out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't looking in his direction, and he couldn't tell if she had seen him or not. He grabbed one of his men, the only one he could trust in this situation. He pulled the other man to the side, leaving the gang and girls for a minute.
"Jin-ho, I need you to do something for me."
"What is it boss?" Hwoarang stared at the man before starting. He was the second best fighter in the group, but wasn't the best looking by far. He was gruff, and had three scars running down the both sides of his face. Hwoarang knew he could trust him with Isa.
"You see that foreign chick over there? The one in those tight pants with the red tight shirt?" He pointed in the direction of Isa. "Bring her to the bar with you, but don't sit with us. Tell her that I asked you to do so." Jin-ho looked at the girl and then nodded.
"Sure thing."
"Just make sure nothing happens to her, OK?" Hwoarang turned to rejoin the group, not waiting for the reply.
Author's Notes:
Sorry it took me a little longer than usual to get this one up. I wanted to finish editing it first, and I had some pressing matters at school and work to deal with that got in the way. The next chapter won't be out until after May, as I have the first chapter of my thesis due the end of this month. Again, thank you for your comments. I always appreciate what you have to say.