Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z, Dragonball, or any of the characters in these great mangas. These titles are the exclusive property of Akira Toryama and Toei Animation. However, Rolo Yeung, Fein, and Hard Copper are my original characters so hands off!
Chapter 11: Not Even God Can Save You From Me
The following morning, Yeung was awoken from his deep sleep with a painful blow to his ribcage. Immediately, the boy rolled out of his cot and onto the floor where he began to gasp painfully for air.
His eyes tearing up, the young martial artist looked up to see his new sensei, Mercenary Toa, staring down at him with something akin to disgust.
"Why the Hell did you do that?!" asked Yeung irritably, "There are better ways to wake someone up you know!"
"It's time to get up you lazy bum!" nagged the older man, "Now get up! Breakfast is on the table."
"Breakfast?" Yeung rolled over and slowly pushed himself up. After a quick dust off, he followed Toa Pai Pai sama into the kitchen.
Yeung took his place at the table and loaded his plate with fried rice and dumplings. Toa sat right across from him with his personalized dish of scrambled eggs and cheese. Yeung ate hastily in anticipation for his first day of training under the former killer.
Toa, on the other hand, devoured his eggs with reservation as if trying to enjoy his meal. Finally, it was Toa who decided to speak up.
"Before we begin your first day of training under the school of the crane, I would like to know your previous experience in the martial arts. Tien told me that you are a damned good fighter for your age, and I would like to see if it's true."
Yeung scarfed down a whole mouthful of rice before replying, "Well, I was adopted by the Eighteenth Tenkaichi Tournament Champion when I was about six. He instructed me in the fighting styles of Brazilian Jujitsu and the Fist of the Holiest Rite. At about the age of eleven, I advanced to the hall of blades, an initiation test designed to midwife new masters of our fighting style. It involves a room full of mechanized spears and swords."
"And what were the results?" inquired the old assassin.
"Well, I didn't exactly pass with flying colors. I lived apparently. No, my victory over that test was more of a 'limping across the finish line thing.' My best friend however, danced through it. After my rite of passage, my old master thought it best that both I and my friend leave the school so that we may develop our fighting skills elsewhere."
"And what have you been doing since then?" asked Toa.
"Drifting from one martial arts dojo to another looking for fights," answered Yeung, "Since leaving my first school, I'll bet you that I've killed over two hundred people in street fights."
"Well, the style you'll be learning from me for the next eight months will surely liken to your fancy boy," Toa bragged with a grin. "Based on my extensive experience, I can certainly tell you that the Crane Style is an assassin's best friend. You just don't leave home without it!"
Just then, there was a loud knock on the front doors.
"Let me get that," said Yeung standing up. He answered the door half expecting it to be one of the bill collectors that Toa had mentioned yesterday. Instead, standing in the door was a young boy.
The scrawny boy looked to be about seven or eight years old and stood just a little shorter than Yeung. He had sandy blond hair and was well dressed in a fine suit that made him look like he'd just stepped out of boarding school. This gave to the possibility that the kid was born into money.
"Hello," the kid greeted warmly, "How are you? Umm… my name is Den Sum Tang."
Yeung eyed the small boy curiously before asking, "What do you want?"
The little kid nervously shuffled his feet a little before continuing, "This the new martial arts school that's supposed to be opening up isn't it?"
"What's going on out here?!" Mercenary Toa came up from behind Yeung and stood just behind the teenaged fighter. The young boy took a step back upon seeing the cybernetic face of the old mercenary. Mercenary Toa eyed the boy for a moment and this made the child slowly shuffle backwards. Finally, the young boy found the nerve to speak.
"Uh… Are you the sensei at this school?" inquired the new kid. The boy then dropped to his knees and bowed like his life depended on it. "Please! My name is Den Sum and I would very much like to train under you!"
"Can you pay the monthly fees?" asked Toa, "This school isn't cheap I'll mind you! We run a top class operation here!"
"Oh, yes sir!" assured the youth, "My mommy will pay out of the nose just to keep me out of her hair!"
"The fees are seventy-five zennis a month. You miss one payment and I'll cut you from this school!"
"Come on in…" Yeung ushered the boy into the studio right behind Toa. Once inside, Den Sum took a seat at the table right across from Toa with Yeung opting to stand next to the old Crane assassin.
"Alright boy!" spoke Toa, "Why do you wish to join this school?"
In response to the Crane assassin's question the boy just sat there like fidgeting. Fact is, the child looked as though he wanted to say something but just couldn't seem to come out with it. Mercenary Toa was beginning to grow very impatient.
"Well!" snapped Toa, "Speak up!"
The child looked down at his feet for a moment before he started to shake furiously. Suddenly, the kid began to sniffle as tears began to slide down his rosy cheeks. Finally, the youth tried to speak…
"I…I…I got b-beat up in school!" stuttered the young boy fitfully, "They're always hurting me…"
Feeling a spark of sympathy for the runt, Yeung asked, "Who's always hurting you?"
"All of them sniff. The other kids, the teachers, the headmaster….I want to show them!"
Grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, the old Mercenary Toa decided to throw his sales pitch.
"Well my boy, you've come to the right place!" said the ex hit man in an assuring manner, "At this school we have absolutely no ethical standards. That's right! It's all 'pay to play' in this joint!"
"S-so you'll train me then?" asked the boy, his voice betraying a sense of hope.
"Sure…"
"Yippee!" Upon hearing this, the little boy wiped his eyes and began to bounce around the room with glee.
Mercenary Toa couldn't help but smile to himself at his latest client/student.
Got one! Hook, line, and sinker! Just open the door and in they will come.
"Den Sum," said Toa, "Before we saddle you with any kind of training regiment, I would like to get a feel for what level I'll have to start you at."
"How you gonna do that?"
"Simple lad," answered Toa, "I'm going to first have you fight your senior." Toa was patting Yeung on the head like a French Poodle. This made Yeung seethe a little on the inside.
It took a moment for the significance of Toa's words to hit home with the child. "Me! Fight! With Him!?"
"Of course you could run home with your tail between your legs like a good little momma's boy," offered the old assassin in an attempt to shame the kid into staying, "It's your call son!"
The boy thought about it for a moment before reluctantly but quietly accepting.
"I-I'll do it…"
"What was that?" asked Toa sarcastically, "I must have had some wax in my ear."
"I SAID I'LL DO IT!" snapped the kid.
"Splendid," said Toa pursing his hands together gleefully, "This way boys!"
Toa held the door open for his new students as the youths made their way into the parking lot out in front of the dojo. His lack of enthusiasm evident, Den Sum seemed to be half dragging himself behind Toa and Yeung.
"P-promise you won't hurt me OK," stammered the runt. The little kid brought his fists up in an amateurish defense.
"Fine," huffed Yeung. Yeung didn't even assume a stance. He looked the boy up and down a few times before he noticed something grossly humiliating: His opponent was pissing his pants! This was not lost on Mercenary Toa who sat by shaking his head with pity.
"Hooo boy!" exclaimed Toa, "Looks like that kid is gonna have to be trained from the ground up."
"You may proceed!" ordered the elder assassin.
No sooner had Toa said that than Den Sum dropped to the floor unconscious. Yeung stood there dumbfounded by what had just happened.
"Sweet Jesus!" shouted Toa, "You KOed him so fast I didn't even see it! Woah!"
"Uhh… actually sensei, he fainted," said Yeung sweat-dropping.
"Oh, I see."
Toa just stood there and sweat dropped a few moments before walking towards the door.
"I guess I'd better break out the smelling salts…," muttered the elder assassin, "Yeung, get ready! You're fighting me next."
"Uh…Huh?!" Yeung stood there letting those last few words sink in.
'Well,' thought the boy warrior, 'He's old. At least there's not much there to worry about, right?!'
Moments later, Toa Pai-Pai was standing out front with the two boys, preparing for his match with Rolo Yeung. In the meantime, Den Sum settled himself with just standing out of sight as a spectator as much as he could. He felt so ashamed of wetting himself and fainting and in front of perfect strangers no less!
"Oh man…," mussed the boy grimly, "If the guys at school ever found out about this, I'd never hear the end of it…"
"Well, let's get this over with shall we," said Yeung.
"Wait up kid! I've gotta stretch these old muscles a bit. I'm not exactly a spring chicken I'll have you know!"
"And then you'll lead out with a battle cry of "You kids get off my damned lawn!"," quipped Yeung.
Mercenary Toa sneered a little at that comment before replying in kind, "Keep saying that kid. Just for that, I'm going to take that smart mouth of yours and put it where the sun won't shine."
"Eww.., You actually swing that way!" jested Yeung in mock disgust.
"Enough!" Toa snapped, "Right here and now is where we will determine your place in the Crane hierarchy!" Suddenly and without warning, Mercenary Toa phased out of view.
"Where did he go?!" hollered Den Sum obviously panicked.
Yeung looked around frantically for the old Crane assassin. All of a sudden, Yeung felt something rigid strike the base of his skull. With a cry of anguish, the teen fighter tumbled forward until he was sprawled out on his front.
Where Yeung had been standing, now stood Mercenary Toa in all of his friendly neighborhood killer glory. The old man fiddled with his mustache, seemingly unimpressed.
"I'm wondering…," began the old assassin, "Were all three of Tien's eyes closed when he was presumably 'watching' you fight?"
Yeung slowly pushed himself up from the ground to a standing position and glared daggers at the elder assassin.
"You son of a….Arfph!" Yeung felt something constrict in his throat as if a boa constrictor had found its way to his neck. Desperately, the boy began to claw desperately at his windpipe. In about two minutes, Yeung fell to the floor in a heap trying everything he could to breath.
About the time that Yeung started to turn blue, Toa sauntered up to the boy, reached down, and tapped him on the back of the neck.
Finally, Yeung's lungs began to take in air. Every breath Yeung drew felt labored as if cement had been poured down his throat.
"Earlier, before I struck you I used something called instantaneous movement," explained Toa. "It is super speed that allows one to literally run circles around his opponents. Once I got behind you, I struck an acupressure point on your upper spine that halts respiratory functions. It's but one of many assassination moves that are employed by the Crane Style."
"T-that's pretty sick," sputtered the young warrior, "Wouldn't a move like that disqualify me from the tournament though?"
"True…," stated Toa, "However, we have to take into account our lives in between tournaments as well. I'm not just going to relegate the next eight months of your training to teaching you those moves that are of the Crane variation used in sporting events."
Yeung wiped his eyes to clear his vision. "I wish you would of warned me first if you were gonna do that!"
"I'm an assassin! I don't give warnings. Life isn't just about competitive sports fighting my boy. Martial arts in its purest form, is the ultimate killing power. A tournament does little in the way of justice to that which was developed for struggles of survival. Think back to how you felt when last you were in a life or death situation!"
"Well…," began Yeung setting up, "I felt hatred, rage, and oppressed…"
"Oppressed? Why oppressed?"
"Well…Just look at me and figure it out for yourself!" snapped Yeung. The boy spread his arms wide as if showcasing something about himself.
"You're short for your age," said Toa pointing out the obvious.
"That's the understatement of the century," replied Yeung, "Why however did you manage to figure that out for yourself?"
Suddenly, Yeung felt himself being thrown backwards by something cold and rigid.
"What the?!" sputtered the boy.
"For using that smart mouth of yours, I'm going to drag this out for a while, or did you forget boy that we still have an exhibition match to complete?" said the old hit man. "I'll refrain from anymore assassination technique demos! Let's just finish this using competitive sports martial arts!"
Toa dropped into a fighting stance showcasing a low center of gravity, one meant solely for defense.
"Come on boy!" commanded Toa, "I'll let you take the initiative."
"Alright," Yeung launched himself off the ground like a bullet with his trajectory aimed right at Toa Pai-Pai sama. Yeung drew back for a powerful horizontal aerial strike. The strike sailed straight for Mercenary Toa's face and just as it looked as if the blow were going to hit, Toa brought his metallic forearm up to intercept it.
A resounding 'ring could be heard as Toa parried Yeung's heart stopping punch with such grace that it seemed like a dance. The problem is, the ridges on Toa's forearm split Yeung's fist open like a box cutter.
Yeung disengaged his partner and began to nurse his wound. Reaching down, the boy tore a peace of cloth from his pant legs and wrapped the gash.
'Note to self: Watch his forearms!'
"My God!" shouted Den Sum clasping his hands together, "My sensei is incredible!"
"Well! Are you gonna continue or just stand there playing with your blood?" Toa goaded sarcastically, "Come on! I'm not going to strike! Only defend."
Yeung flew at Toa a second time hell-bent on making a strike. He threw blurring swarms of blows. Elbows, ridge hands, palm strikes, knukatu jabs, hammer fists, knuckle punches, anything and everything were thrown in an attempt to score an interval between the Crane teachers' literally iron-hard blocks, however, not a one of them hit home.
This continued on for about a half hour, and by then Yeung was visibly running out of steam.
"The fire is beginning to go out behind your punches," said Toa parrying another seemingly well placed attack, "We can do this all day Yeung, but I promise you that it will always be the same."
Winded, Yeung dropped to one knee so that he could take a quick breather. His hands looked as though they had been subjected to a grinder and the tips of his fingers were raw with bruises.
'Not even Choppa could touch this man!' thought the boy, 'Heck, compared to this guy, even Hard Copper would be helpless!'
"You don't fight well with your lower body do you?" asked the old Crane assassin.
"……," Yeung looked down at his legs with a grimace. This seemed to confirm Toa's suspicions.
"It shows," stated Toa. "Your legs are powerful boy, yet you do not make full use of them. The Crane style makes use of the legs over hands at a ratio of five to four. You however, use your hands over your legs at a ratio of nine to one."
"Well…, I'm used to using my legs exclusively for submission holds."
Toa looked at Yeung sternly before explaining, "A Crane style without use of heel stomps, spinning heal kicks, flying kicks, or roundhouse kicks is a sad thing indeed. We'll have to make working on variation a center point in your training."
"Alright," said Toa, "Next, I'm going to lead in with a moderate offensive. Use defense, fight back, whatever makes you happy, because this time I want to see how much punishment you can take before losing consciousness!"
Mercenary Toa took yet another fighting stance, this one with a center of gravity that was something of a middle way. Yeung swallowed hard before lowering into his own respective fighting posture.
The two fighters stood there in an old fashioned standoff for about five minutes without either of them making so much as a twitch aside from Yeung's nervous twitching. Back at King Choppoa's monastery, it had been times like this in which Yeung would study the direction of the pupils in his opponents' eyes to determine his next move. However, this method does little against a warrior who lacks natural eyes altogether.
This time, it was Mercenary Toa who moved first. The old assassin blurred out of Yeung's field of view before Yeung even had time to holler "Holy Crap!"
The old Crane assassin ran wide circles around the hapless teen, circles that were contracting as the master killer moved in ever closer for the king of all outfights. Finally, once Toa had inched in close enough, he began to rain down strikes that harkened to what one would surely describe as metallic lightning.
All around Yeung, palm strikes wailed on him with the ferocity of a pack of hyenas. Every time a blow would land on him, it would push him into yet another blow. Altogether, it would by no means be an exaggeration to say that within the timeframe of only a few seconds, Yeung had been struck well over a thousand times. With Toa, it was just like it was in the desert with the felosa raptors; that is, Yeung found himself trapped in the maelstrom of a wolf-gang attack, only this time as opposed to being pounded on by five separate adversaries, all of the carnage was being brought to bear against him by one man. What was really amazing is that in all this seeming seriousness on Mercenary Toa's part, the old hit man was really only hitting Yeung with the equivalent of kid gloves. Had he wanted to, the elder killer could have butchered Yeung ten times before the boy had a chance to hit the ground dead.
Again, the old assassin pressed his advantage and inched in even closer to his new student. Once beyond the distance threshold, Toa began to mix in ever more jarring combinations that now included the use of elbows and hooks. The combinations left Yeung's small body being slung to and fro about the whirlwind of torture like a fleshy pinball.
At last, after barely thirty seconds, seconds that to Yeung seemed to last for an eternity, Toa decided to end his wolf-gang assault with a vicious roundhouse kick that sent Yeung sprawling fifteen, thirty, forty feet, right into a light post. A sickening scream could be heard as the metal that made up the body of the light post formed a U-shape around Yeung's body.
"OH MY GOD!" Den Sum ran up beside Yeung and reached down to check if his senior was conscious. Suddenly, Yeung's arm reached up and batted Den Sums' hand away. After which, Den Sum felt himself being jerked down by the shirt collar until he was eye level with the downed Yeung.
Yeung looked at the small child with a sneer that could have easily burned through lead. His face and eyes were black and blue and when Den Sum looked close enough he could see that a couple of Yeung's teeth had been knocked out.
"Kid…,"Yeung started gruffly, "Don't you ever, ever even attempt to help me again!"
Just then, Yeung slung the small boy to the ground as if the boy were a twig, and stood up. The teen warrior settled into a stance and closed his eyes. Under the current circumstances, this would very well constitute madness, except for this case something else was in the works.
Toa smiled broadly at his new student before saying, "I'll give you credit boy. You're determined. That and you seem to have a heightened resistance to pain. Most warriors at your level would have passed out from sheer agony. You did well to brave the first storm, but don't let that go to your head! I said earlier that we were going to fight until you passed out!"
With that, the Crane assassin settled into yet another stance; this one with a high center of gravity.
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"ARAUGH!! GET ME ANOTHER CHALLENGER!" Hard Copper brought his massive foot down on the tiled floor of the arena with such force that a dust devil was kicked up from the escaping air. This produced the surreal effect that just screamed 'power.'
For the past four days since announcing his intentions to enter the National Budokai, the dreaded Mountain King had been pounding all manner of challengers to his supremacy into the dirt, among them being a boy named Rolo Yeung. When the Mountain King recently learned of the boy's own plans to compete, he instantly became ecstatic. The ferocity of Hard Copper's 'training' increased dramatically, and for Hard Copper, training usually entailed beating the shit out of anyone he could get to challenge him. Just the thought of once again casting asunder the one fighter who had ever put up half a struggle against him left goose bumps on Hard Copper's rigid flesh. However, until his next fight with Yeung arrives, he would just have to make due with pulverizing whoever he could get a hold of.
"Hey you!" Hard Copper pointed to a karate blackbelt who had registered earlier for a shot at the regional champ.
"Yeah! That's right! You!" continued the giant, "I called the hospital ahead of time! Don't worry! Our country has Universal Healthcare! Get your ass down here and prepare to visit the emergency room!"
The karate master started to get nervous very quickly and began to walk out of the dojo.
"What's the matter you cowards!?" the mountain ruler boomed, "Are you all too scared to face the only true warrior left on Earth?! Fight me as a group then!"
Almost as if on cue, every pro fighter that had registered that day for a shot at Hard Copper filed into the arena to face the titan of terror. There they were: Mongolian Wrestling Champs, boxing champions of every division, grapplers, Kung Fu masters of every conceivable style, Karate masters, Tai Kwan Do champions, Mui Thai fighters, etc; all of them gathered together in one arena surrounding the nine-time National Budokai Champion, all of them thirsting to make Hard Copper realize that he was as mortal as they were.
"Hmm…, it seems having you all confront me at once has stiffened your spines." Hard Copper grinned viciously before getting into a fighting stance for yet another hour of fun and adventure. From all sides, the whole slew of them came screaming at Hard Copper in a great impending rush of human flesh. Every one of them was confident that this was the day they would finally get to make a believer out of the wily tribesman.
Just as they were about to butt heads with the mountain ruler, Hard Copper reached down and yanked one of the smaller challengers into the air like a paper sack. The mountain king smiled grotesquely as he began to brandish his smaller adversary like a ball and chain. To say that the army of martial artists didn't know what hit them would be an understatement.
Crippled bodies flew this way and that as the monster Indian swung the hapless fighter unfortunate enough to be caught in his mitts. All around Hard Copper's coliseum, the sickening sound of flesh and bone striking flesh and bone could be heard.
By the time the remaining challengers realized what was happening, only a few of them were left standing. Bodies, blood, urine, and chunks of human flesh were strung out all across Hard Copper's iconic battle ring, making it look as if it came right out of the pages of some grotesque dystopian science fiction film.
As for the one fighter whom Hard Copper had used as a human battle club, one could hardly tell what was now left of him had even been a person at all. All that remained of the unfortunate challenger was a bloody torso devoid of arms and a head attached to a pair of broken legs that dangled wetly from the giant's iron grasp.
A look of sheer terror found its way onto the faces of the remaining fighters as Hard Copper closed in on them. One of the remaining challengers, a kung fu fighter who looked to be in his early twenties, dropped to his knees and began to beg the giant for his life.
"Oh God! Please don't hurt me!" begged the challenger. The terrified fighter gripped onto one of Hard Copper's boots and began to sob pitifully.
The massive Native American sneered in disgust at the hapless challenger who now wept at his feet. Growing angry, he drew back his right foot and kicked the poor man right in the face. This sent the smaller challenger flying right into a support column just outside the ring.
By this time Hard Copper's remaining challengers had had enough. One after another, they took to their heels and dashed out the front door as if they were on fire.
Frustrated by this, the Mountain King heaved with a deep sigh of disappointment. The powerful fighter sauntered over to the edge of the ring and plopped down on one of the benches on the front row. Due to the man's sheer size, the adult-sized bleachers seemed as if they were made for children. Here, Hard Copper sat, brooded, while taking a moment to look around at his coliseum.
For over thirty years, Hard Copper had fought full contact in this very arena. For thirty years he had defeated literally thousands of men who called themselves fighters, and for just as long he had dominated every tournament on the continent. Now, in his late fifties, the great warrior found himself at a crossroads in his long career. The number of times he had ever really had to 'try' in a fight he could count on one hand. He had never truly had to retain his title as National Budokai Champion, and because of this, he found himself short on inspiration. All of that changed however, when a certain young fighter came onto the scene…
That young fighter, whose name Hard Copper afterwards learned to be Master Rolo Yeung, came to challenge the nine-time National Champ to a fight of near-epic proportions. The boy fought at a level far above anything Hard Copper had ever before encountered, and that very tenacity had rekindled an old flame inside of an old warrior. Now, he had to get stronger! He had to be that unmovable object in the path of the unstoppable!
"These trivial circus fights are never gonna help me progress!" mussed Hard Copper. "There was a time long ago when I could count on baptism-by-fire to carry me through to the next level, but that time has long past."
Lost in thought, the mountain king just stood there and looked down upon the carnage that littered his ring. In his berserker state he had slain at least ten of his challengers that day, yet such was to be expected from a man who saw his training as a war in itself. Every war has its casualties.
"I have to get stronger!" The behemoth mountaineer turned to leave the arena much the way a tornado leaves a disaster site. "I must get stronger! He'd do it!"
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Meanwhile just outside the Crane Dojo, Rolo Yeung continued to fight a hopeless exhibition fight against a far more powerful and experienced Mercenary Toa. In the sky above, twilight had settled and the sun was beginning to set behind the trees.
For over eighteen hours the teen warrior had been throwing anything and everything short of the kitchen sink to secure a solid blow on the Crane Master, and every time it seemed that he was going to even touch the old killer, he found himself getting knocked senseless, tripped up, or just plain humiliated and hazed. Yeung had long since run out of steam and it looked as if Mercenary Toa hadn't even come close to breaking a sweat. To top it all off, every part of him ached as if liquid pain had seeped into every pour on his skin, and his eyes were puffed up like muffins.
"As I said this morning boy…," began Toa, "We can go at it all day and you still would never get anywhere near laying a hand on me! I do believe that it is now pointless to argue the fact."
However, Toa's words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Yeung staggered about in a state of light-headed exhaustion with his hands held out as if he were trying to feel his way back into the fight.
"H-had enough, o-o-old man?" Suddenly, the youth fell on his face seemingly out cold.
"Is it over yet?" asked Den Sum.
"Yeah, I think it's over," replied Toa. Normally, Mercenary Toa didn't praise people on shit. However, in Yeung's case, he had to grudgingly accept facts. Before him was a true unrefined prodigy. A potential warrior who albeit clumsy and pig-headed, possessed an iron will, mindset, and resistance to pain that was uncanny. Given the boy's level of strength, he had lasted longer than Goku could have ever hoped to at the time of their first fight so long ago.
Believing it was over, Mercenary Toa walked over to where Yeung lay passed out, and just as the elder assassin bent down to pick up his charge, Yeung's body twitched.
"Huh!?" Toa stepped back reflexively. Once again, Toa had to make an effort to hide his apparent shock that Yeung had somehow found the heart to move. When the boy turned his head to the side, Toa could see that the puss sacs around Yeung's eyes had busted leaving a puddle of blood and sour smelling fluid where the kid's head had hit the ground. Then, much to Toa's amazement, Yeung shifted his weight and began to pick himself out of the dirt.
"Look boy!" shouted Toa sternly, "This has gone far enough! It's just a test fight! You can't just hurt yourself before we even start your training!"
"I ain't gonna quit," wheezed the boy, "Not until I hit you."
All of a sudden, Toa Pai Pai rushed forward and snatched Yeung's wrist. "Sorry. I have to end this before you hurt yourself anymore than you already have!" Next, the old assassin reached down and tapped a spot on Yeung's wrist.
Within seconds a vague feeling of numbness spread throughout Yeung's body. His legs began to buckle, and he fell into his sensei's steadying hold. The world around him began to contort, and finally blackness claimed him.
With a heave, Toa shrugged the unconscious teen over his right shoulder and carried him back inside, all the while being closely followed by his other new student Den Sum.
"Holy Cow! That was the coolest fight ever!" shouted Den Sum ecstatically, "My friends at school are never gonna believe me when I tell em! Sweet Jesus!"
Toa looked over at his prospective pupil. "Den Sum! Your own real training starts tomorrow. Go home and get some rest! I expect you here at 8:00 A.M. sharp!"
"Uhh…Yes Sir!" The small boy gave a crisp salute to the old cyborg before rushing out the door.
Toa lay Yeung on the couch and started towards the bathroom to get some iodine. Before doing so however, he bent down and inspected his charge. Most of Yeung's wounds seemed superficial and his breathing remained steady so Toa thought nothing more. The boy was a trooper through and through.
A wry smile found its way onto Toa's face. There was hope for the Crane Dojo. A child shall lead the way.
Power Levels:
Rolo Yeung: 120
Mercenary Toa: 180
Hard Copper: 147
Author's Note: For those of you who are wondering, the protagonist Yeung, is an antihero. The antagonist, Hard Copper, is somewhere between a shade of gray and a bonafied anti-villain. The role of Hard Copper as an antagonist is something akin to that of a dark sage: That being, his method of advancing his idea of how life as a warrior should be lived is by hurting people. As such, his philosophy in life is 'Not everyone who helps you is looking out for your best interests, and not everyone who hurts you is doing it for completely selfish means." Nonetheless dear readers, keep in mind that the antagonist in this story is still a vicious killer. Some of the worst things are often done with the best of intentions.