Steve Irwin, one of the kindest and greatest men ever, has died in a freak stingray attack.
This guy had some critics who thought what he did was too extreme, but this man was a genuinely nice person. He loved animals as much as he loved his family...and he loved his family a LOT. And if I may be so bold, he was perhaps as manly as Chuck Norris...IF NOT MANLIER.
I am so grief-stricken. This is the second TV personality who has played a big role in my life who has died this year. First it was Machiko Soga, and now it's Steve Irwin.
That being said, I'm sorry this one took a bit longer than usual, and might not be up to the same quality as the others. However, I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless.
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Even though my bid for the Jaguarandi mask had ended in failure, I was wise enough to give myself alternatives in case that particular plot went up in smoke. I noticed that the key to defeating the Shinkenger lay not in the quality of the particular creature that I would create on any given day, but the materials used to manufacture them. Thus, I planned to use the Jaguarandi mask to create my own creature. With that falling out, I focused on another item.
Red Crow and Rusty Wing are a katana/shuriken group that was used by a feared kunoichi back in Astaroth's age: knowledge that I gained from the book I acquired from Heihachi's library and confirmed by Astaroth himself. I was planning to purchase it at an online auction, but someone in Tokyo had already purchased it: a weapons merchant, to be precise.
After looking at the man's profile by hacking into Interpol's database, I saw that he was but a mere swindler with a lengthy criminal record: no one was going to miss him. Astaroth had been growing restless from lack of bloodshed, so I dispatched him to "persuade" the buyer to hand over the two weapons whose power he clearly had no idea about.
Astaroth ran into some unexpected company, however.
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As one of the largest and busiest cities on the planet, Tokyo also had a bustling nightlife where dance houses and nightclubs opened for the hard-working class of the daytime to kick back and enjoy themselves at night. Some of them were open to the public in general, and others were reserved for only the social elite. Fine wine, pulsing beats, and pleasurable company awaited those lucky enough to get into the latter.
For those who wanted a slightly less risqué experience, there was the next-best thing: a quiet pub known as "the Warrior's Den." It was first set up in Tokyo twenty-four years before to coincide with the first King of Iron Fist tournament, hence how it received its name. Paul Phoenix and Michelle Chang frequented the bar the most during that time, and soon other fighters began to build up tabs at the pub. By the time the King of Iron Fist Tournament 5 had concluded, the names of people who had visited the Warrior's Den included not only Phoenix and Chang, but Lei Wulong, Bryan Fury, Bruce Irwin, King, Craig Marduk, Marshall Law, and (to the surprise of those who asked) Jun Kazama.
It's definitely weird coming here again when it's not tournament time, Hwoarang thought to himself as he walked through the door and entered the renowned pub and sat down at the bar counter, but whatever. I could use some booze right about now…
A few minutes earlier, he and Jin had a major argument about how to go about searching to Astaroth, the man(or whatever he was) that killed what was left of his precious gang. Jin was satisfied with investigating the connections between the attacks on the office building and the airport using the list of casualties from the incidents, while Hwoarang had decided that it would be much more productive to actively search of him by scouring the city, thus preventing him from striking in the first place.
The two young men argued violently over how to go about their plan of attack until Xiaoyu popped in and told both of them to chill out. Hwoarang left the Mishima Mansion in a huff and went to ride on his motorcycle to let off some steam. Even though mashing Jin's face would have made him feel better, it would definitely hurt his chances of getting his revenge on Astaroth if the team was one man short.
Hmph…and since when was I a team player to begin with? Hwoarang asked himself as he waited for someone to take his order. The only reason he joined the Shinkengers was so that he could avenge his fallen comrades and take down Astaroth, but in the past couple of days he was nowhere to be found. Hwoarang had expected his quest for vengeance to be a week at the most: at the rate things were going, he looked to be in it for the long haul.
"So what'll it be, handsome?"
Hearing the feminine voice, Hwoarang looked up and saw a caucasian woman dressed in a tuxedo with her hair dyed crimson. At least the barkeep's easy on the eyes, Hwoarang smiled as he responded to the female bartender. "I'll take the strongest stuff you got, babe."
The barkeeper smiled and reached back to the wine cupboard behind her and rummaged through the bottles in her quest to find the drink that her current customer had requested. Once she found what she was looking for, she removed the bottle out of the cupboard and popped open the cap.
"Hey barkeep," another female voice beckoned from the opposite end of the bar counter from where Hwoarang was sitting. "Add his tab to mine, if you'd be so kind."
Hwoarang looked to the woman and raised an eyebrow at her strange attire. She was a brown-haired woman wearing a beige cowboy-leather vest that was opened wide and barely hiding her modesty, and pants made of the same material and color. Wrapped around her head was a handband with two feathers stick out of the back. Wait a second, Hwoarang recognized the woman simply by her exceptionally-muscular thighs, wasn't she in the last tournament?
"Hey lady," Hwoarang called out to the woman who paid his tab as he moved over to the seat next to her. "Do you by any chance know anyone named 'Julia Chang'?"
"Yep, I'm her adoptive mom. The name's Michelle Chang," Michelle gave a thumbs-up as the barkeeper gave Hwoarang his drink and Michelle a piece of paper. "You must be Hwoarang: it's nice to meet ya."
"Yeah, whatever: thanks for paying my bill. However, I make it a point not to date women twice my age, so don't get any ideas," Hwoarang nodded and took a swig of his alcohol, but quickly put the glass down and started coughing. Oy, what the hell is this? I've never tasted booze this strong before!
Michelle let out a laugh as she watched Hwoarang try to regain his bearings. "That stuff was something that Paul and I came up with before you were even a thought in someone's head: back during the first King of Iron Fist Tournament." Michelle gave Hwoarang a pat on the back as she too took a swig of her beverage, although she didn't cough. "It's called 'the Drink of Healing.' It may have some extra kick to it, but it's good for the soul…and from the looks of things, you could use it."
"And just what the hell do you mean by that?" Hwoarang replied, slightly irked by hearing that.
"You just have that look on your face," Michelle shrugged as she took another drink. "A penny for your thoughts, as they say…is something troubling you?"
"Quite frankly, it's none of your business," Hwoarang snapped back with irritation and took a long gulp of his "Drink of Healing," although he didn't really feel any better despite its name, "so butt out, lady!"
"…never mind, I think I might have guessed it," Michelle finished off her drink and handed it the now-empty glass to the barkeeper. "You lost your friend, and now you want to get even with the person who took him away."
Hwoarang stopped drinking and raised his eyebrow again before putting his glass back down. "…is it really that obvious?" he asked with a grim expression on his face.
"Nah…it's just that you're not the only one is this room whose had the monkey called revenge clinging to his back," Michelle's voice became slightly less chummy as she answered Hwoarang's question, "or in my case…her back."
"Is that so?" Hwoarang turned in his seat so that he was facing Michelle. "Am I to believe to Julia's mom has rats in her closest? Now this I have to hear!"
"Back before the first King of Iron Fist Tournament, old man Heihachi had sent men to my homeland in Arizona to an ancient treasure. My mom and dad weren't too keen about that, though…and after a couple of months, one of his goons finally snapped…and took out my old man." Michelle's voice was solemn as she remembered her mother's tears when she told her about the incident. "That's actually the reason I entered that tournament: to mash that schmuck's head and play soccer with it."
"Yeah, I hate that old bastard, too," Hwoarang shook his head as he too remembered the humiliation he had suffered at the King of Iron Fist's hands, only it was a mere two weeks ago rather than twenty-four years back. "Being how that he's still around, I'm guessing you never got to take him out."
"Nope, but I ran into him two years later in the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2." Michelle nodded to the bartender as she handed her a refill of her alcohol while she continued. "Mishima Jr also wanted his hands on said treasure, and kidnapped my mom in an attempt to blackmail it out of me. When I got to the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2, Heihachi was competing as a normal competitor and suddenly we were in the same boat; suddenly, getting my revenge became a lot easier…"
"So why didn't you do it?" Hwoarang, his interested piqued, asked expectantly.
"I grew up." Michelle replied with a surprisingly simplistic answer. "After the second tournament, Heihachi said that he would compensate my family for all of the trouble the Zaibatsu had caused us, and soon after that I found Julia. Once I began to raise her, revenge just didn't have the same appeal to me anymore…because I had friends and family to back me up."
Friends to back her up, huh? Hwoarang repeated her words to himself as he pondered what she was getting at. "What's your point? Are you saying that I should forget about it?"
"Of course not; I still wouldn't mind knocking Heihachi and Kazuya down a few pegs, but you shouldn't get obsessed over it. Because once you fulfill that revenge…do you have any plans on what you're going to do next?"
"…" Hwoarang had no answer. He had thought nothing of what he would do once he destroyed Astaroth, because there was really nothing else that mattered to him at the moment. Taking his silence as a "no," Michelle continued.
"Just remember, there are things more important than life than settling a vendetta. Think about that for a while, and you'll see what I mean." Michelle smiled again and lifted her now-refilled glass in a toast. "To friends and good times!"
Hwoarang hesitated at first, but gave in after a couple of seconds and responded by lifting his glass as well. "May the good times roll…"
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After a few drinks, Hwoarang parted ways with the Michelle and the bartender and headed for his motorcycle. Turning to key to ignition, his motorcycle whirred to life. Hwoarang pulled out of the curb and carefully went back onto the road. Even though he had a nice chat with a fellow King of Iron Fist competitor, there was still no Astaroth to be found. Another day, another no-show, Hwoarang muttered to himself as he began to pick up speed. I better head back: maybe that idiot Jin found something I can use.
Suddenly, Hwoarang spotted a familiar figure caught in his headlight walking on the side of the road. No way…that's just too convenient, Hwoarang did his best to ignore the figure as he kept on driving. I must be still be stoned from that crazy booze…
However, when the figure suddenly leapt out at his motorcycle and tackled Hwoarang until they swerved off the road, Hwoarang realized that it was not an illusion. It's him…Astaroth! The two of them narrowly avoided crashing into a lamp post as Hwoarang quickly hit the brakes and turned the motorcycle off. Breaking free of the behemoth's hold, Hwoarang got away from his bike and assumed a fighting stance.
"Huh…I didn't expect to find you here," Astaroth said with that awful voice as he tossed Hwoarang's motorcycle aside. The golem was dressed in his usual black trenchcoat and hat that he used in his attacks, and his giant battle ax was hoisted over his left shoulder. Hwoarang noticed that in his opposite hand was a rectangular brown box about two feet long and a foot wide.
"First you kill my gang, and then you trash my bike?" Hwoarang clenched his fist as he assumed a fighting stance. "What is your malfunction?"
"I see that the others aren't with you. Go away until you've brought your friends so I can kill you all at once," Astaroth scoffed in disappointment and turned in the opposite direction. Apparently he had better things to do than engage in bloody combat…which was something very rare for Astaroth being how bloodshed was his favorite pastime by far.
However, he didn't get very far, as Hwoarang ran up and kicked him in the back of the head so hard that Astaroth stumbled over. Turning around to block a secondary kick, Astaroth sent Hwoarang reeling back with a bump of his chest. "Do you really want die that badly? I said get lost!"
"And I say go to hell where you belong!" Hwoarang's morpher crackled with purplish energy as he applied his foot to the golem's face and grinded his heel into him. The light soon began to spread across his arm, and as removed his foot to kick Astaroth in the chest, it had spread across his entire body. Sending the creature spiraling backwards with a lethal roundhouse kick, Hwoarang's ShinkenBlack suit had completely covered his body. As soon as his helmet materialized over his face, Hwoarang resumed his fighting stance and prepared for Astaroth's counterattack.
"If that's the way you want you play," Astaroth angrily tossed aside the box he was carrying and pounded his axe on the ground to summon his Lizard-men, "I'll be more than happy to oblige!" The red-skinned reptilian creatures popped out of the ground snarling and hissing as their bared their fangs and claws at what they hoped to be their next meal.
"Do you think these freaks are going to stand against me?" Hwoarang kicked one of the creature's faces in with a sharp crack and it fell to the ground, clearing the path for Hwoarang. "I'll mangle every last one of 'em!"
Another Lizard-man came up to Hwoarang and took at swipe at him with his claws. Hitting their marks, friction-induced sparks flew from Hwoarang's chest as the claws ran up against his armor. Clutching his chest for a moment, Hwoarang backed away and ducked under a tail whip. Grabbing the tail with his free hand, Hwoarang pulled the attack Lizard-man towards him and broke its spine with an axe kick. Once he did that, he used the corpse as a bludgeon and tossed the deceased creature into its comrades.
Three more Lizard-men approached the Korean youth and grabbed onto him with their teeth, sinking their fangs into his arms. However, Hwoarang's adrenaline rush helped block out the blinding pain, allowing him to stay focused and throw them off his arms by bashing their heads together with a forward flapping motion. One of the Lizardmen refused to let go, and it paid for its mistake as Hwoarang pulled it off of him with his free hand and tossed him into a lamp post.
"Is that all you got, baldy?" Hwoarang grabbed the final Lizard-man's mouth and ripped its jaw off using his enhanced strength powered by his suit. "You just rely on your reptiles to do your dirty work?" Outstretching his arms in defiance, Hwoarang motioned to the reptilian monsters that were either dead or unconscious. "Well, take a good look: you're going to be joining them in a few minutes!"
Astaroth hoisted his axe Kutules into the air and let out an awful war cry. "If you really want to die that badly, then prepare to meet those two peons in hell!" Running towards Hwoarang with his axe raised, Astaroth sent the Korean flying backwards with a shoulder tackle. Continuing to rush madly, Astaroth capitalized his attack by trampling the fallen Shinkenger as he tried to get back up.
Finally rolling out of harm's way, Hwoarang scrambled back onto his feet and jumped away from Astaroth's blade. Using the soles of his shoes to kick away Astaroth's follow-up swipe, Hwoarang kicked the blade of Kutules away and ran up to the now defenseless golem. Rearing back his fist as it crackled with purplish ki, Hwaorang tossed a powerful straight punch that hit the monster in his face.
Astaroth reeled back in pain from the surprisingly powerful attack, and just barely dodged a roundhouse kick to his head. Snatching Hwoarang out of the air just as the Korean was about to go for his Hunting Hawk combination, Astaroth rammed his head against the youth's dangling body, and tossed him away by spinning him around wildly until letting go, like how young David used his sling to defeat the great Goliath in biblical times, only the roles were reversed.
Hwoarang screeched against the ground for a bit before finally stopping himself and standing back up. It was certainly much harder fighting Astaroth now then it had been in the past, being how he was alone and he didn't have Jin and the others to wear the golem down. It doesn't matter, Hwoarang told himself as he resumed his fighting stance, I don't need, Jin, Steve, or the girls to take this guy out!
Hwoarang's body contined to ooze blood from the wounds he received from both Astaroth and the Lizardmen. Even though the black color of his suit helped mask his wounds, the white parts were stained with crimson: either from his own blood of the blood of the Lizardmen he took care of moments before. However, Hwoarang was in the grips of frenzy: unlike Jin, he had no good reason to hold back the uncontrollable rage that was inside of him. Running up to Astaroth once again, the two warriors clashed fists and kicked each other away.
Hwoarang felt woozy as the blood loss was finally going to his head. Gathering his ki for one final, fatal attack, Hwoarang cupped his hands together and reared back. "See this light, freakshow?" Hwoarang shouted out as Astaroth readied his axe. "This is the light that's going to guide you to hell!" Unleashed the energy he had gathered, Hwoarang let loose a purple ball of energy that left lightning of the same color in its wake. "SHINKEN ULTIMATE TECHNIQUE: TEKKENSHU MAELSTROM!"
Astaroth did not flinch: in fact, he was smiling beneath his mask. Lifting his ax high into the air and rearing back, Astaroth seemed to mimic a baseball player standing at plate while the ball of power raced towards him. Then, with his axe crackling with his own evil ki, the golem swung his "bat" and hit the ball to send it right back to Hwoarang. Hwoarang, too startled and tired to dodge, took the blast head on was sent crashing into his motorcycle that was still lying in the road.
Astaroth breathed heavily as he walked over to the fallen Hwoarang. The youth had given him a lot more trouble than when he last ran into him. However, all of that was over now. His soul was ripe for the harvest, and Astaroth wasn't about to let him go. Placing his foot on Hwoarang's neck to hold him still, Astaroth raised his axe and prepared for a killing blow.
Fortuantely for Hwoarang but unbeknownst to the Korean, a familiar voice buzzed in the golem's ear.
Astaroth, let him be for now, Kazuya's voice whispered in Astaroth's ear via the tiny radio in the behemoth's ear. Let him live with his despair, knowing that no matter how much stronger he becomes he'll still be no match for you. Now bring me what I asked you to bring me immediately.
Astaroth thought about it for a moment, and nodded to himself in agreement as he removed his foot and walked over to the box that he had tossed aside earlier. Normally he would argue with Kazuya, but his boss had a nice way with words. Letting Hwoarang's soul fester for a while did sound appealing.
"We're…not finished yet…"
Astaroth turned around and saw Hwoarang struggle back onto his feet and groggily assume a fighting stance. The golem let out a loud laugh and continued on his way. "Next time we meet, I can promise you it'll a fight to the death. I suggest you get your life in order before then!"
Hwoarang tried to pursue his hated foe, but when he tried to take a step, he stumbled and fell flat onto his face with his ShinkenBlack suit fading away in purplish light leaving all of his wounds and gouges open for the world to see. Damn, Hwoarang thought to himself as he drifted into unconsciousness, I had him on the ropes too…
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"Uuuuuhhhh…"
Hwoarang let out a moan as he came to and slowly opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was Astaroth turning his own attack against him, and then turning tail. Once he was fully awake, he realized that he was no longer on the street, but lying on a couch. Looking around at the room, Hwoarang came to the conclusion that he was back at the Mishima Mansion. How did I get here?
"It's about time you woke up," a voice called next to Hwoarang. The Korean turned his head and saw Jin and Xiaoyu sitting at the couch opposite of him. "Michelle Chang came by an hour ago with you and your bike trashed. Xiaoyu here managed to patch you up and your motorcycle is right now in the garage."
"Whatever; thanks for the stitch, Xiao," Hwoarang willed his body into motion and propped himself up so that he was sitting up on the couch rather than lying on it. "Hey, Jin, isn't this your cue to give me one of those long-winded speeches about how Astaroth is someone to take out together rather than go one-on-one?"
Jin's chuckled slightly before answering Hwoarang's question, "well, it seems that he did all the talking for me. What were doing out there, anyway?"
"…I just needed some time to myself," the Korean winced slightly from a sharp pain in his abdomen before getting back up and going to a nearby window. "I've been doing some thinking…and I agree with you about Astaroth."
"…you what?" Jin raised an eyebrow in surprise. Hwoarang was characteristically defiant, especially when it came to matters involving his archrival Jin. Hearing the Korean say something that didn't in any way contradict what Jin would say was certainly astonishing.
"Ever since Jae and Choi got knocked off, I always thought this was a one-man battle," Hwoarang continued. "but I realize that without my gang, I don't have any real purpose." The Korean turned back around and looked at Jin and Xiaoyu. "When I fought Astaroth tonight, it occurred to me: you guys are my gang now; you two, Steve, Asuka, and me. If we can't take down Astaroth as a gang, then it's not worth doing at all!"
"All right, Hwoarang," Xiaoyu broke the solemn moment with her cheerful voice. "So does that mean you're part of the team now?"
"Heh, being as how I don't have anywere else to go right now," Hwoarang smirked as he went back to the couch and sat back down, "I'm in this for the long run. As long as we keep on kicking ass and taking names, then count me in!"
"Excellent," Jin regained his composure and clapped his hands together in agreement. "I'll get Steve and Asuka and we can go over what I found out about Astaroth's attacks. The next time we meet, we'll be sure to take him out!"