Disclaimer: Dragonball, DragonBall Z, and all characters therein are the exclusive property of Akira Toriyama, Bird Studios, and Toei Animation.
Chapter 16: The Ultimatum
"Ladies and Gentlemen! In light of Bridled Fury's shedding of baggage, one can only guess what's about to transpire! With only four minutes left in this match, he'd better do something soon otherwise the win will revert to Rolo Yeung by default!"
Up in the stands, Satan fans began to goad and cheer Bridled Fury into action. Shouts of "Get'em Fury!" and "I paid good money to see that bastard powned!" rang throughout the stadium.
"The clock is ticking," Yeung pointed out.
BF smiled inwardly. "So it is… I guess I'd better give the people what they want."
Bringing up his guard, the blond teen lowered himself into a classic peek-a-boo stance. The peek-a-boo stance is a stance often employed by infighting technicians both for the maximum head protection it offers and for it's versatility.
"Soo…that's how you want it?" Yeung spread his footing wide. "Fine then! We will finish this on your terms." Yeung followed suit by going into octagon form.
"Err…LET'S DO THIS!"
It was then that the two under aged combatants flew into one another at full force. Drawing back a hard right simultaneously, their iron fists collided with such force that outside the ring, the other participants could hear the booming 'thump' work it's way up from the ring foundation.
"Incredible!" shouted announcer Firecracker, "You can just feel the power cascading off these two youths!"
From the start of the engagement, it became blatantly clear who controlled this fight. The kick of the initial collision threw Bridled Fury back violently, causing the older teen to stagger punch-drunk. Bringing his guard back into the peek-a-boo stance, Bridled Fury intercepted a hard right just in the nick of time. All this however, was for nothing. The force of his opponent's strike was so strong, that his entire right flank was blown back yet again.
Wasting no time, Yeung was quick to exploit the opening. Following in with another hard right, he smashed Fury's frontal lobe with so much inertia, that Fury's eyes looked as if they had bugged out. Falling backwards, Fury skid all the way to the edge of the ring before finally coming to a stop.
The announcer, Mr. Firecracker, mad-dashed around the ring to where Fury had taxied. Breaking out a small mirror, the middle-aged man held it up to Bridled Fury's nose to check for breathing. Putting up a victory sign, Mr. Satan's longtime announcer sidekick gave the tournament officials assurance that the blond fighter had lived.
Just then, Bridled Fury began to twitch. Slowly opening his eyes, it seemed as if the whole world was spinning. Clawing at the concrete floor, he unconsciously scraped the meat off his fingertips in an effort to pull himself up and back into the fight.
"Damned!" BF cursed mentally, "Who is this guy?!"
Stepping up from behind, Yeung reached down and yanked Fury's head back by the hair so that Fury was facing him.
Exploiting the close proximity to his opponent, Fury reached out and grabbed both sides of Yeung's head, and using his opponent's squat upper body for leverage, jack-knifed himself into a headstand with his head's crown lined up right above Yeung's.
"LET'S SEE WHO'S HEAD'S HARDER!" It was then that Bridled Fury brought all two-hundred pounds of his body's weigh headfirst onto Yeung's cranium. A truly gut-wrenching sound reminiscent of hamburger extruded through a tube filled the air.
Disoriented and confused, Yeung hobbled back as Bridled Fury continued to stride him with his patented 'Piston Headbutt.' Finally, pushing off, Fury let into Yeung with a vicious finger-jab combination to the face.
"WHY WON'T YOU FALL?!" screamed Fury leading in with another solid jab. Again, Yeung stood firm, not even remotely affected by his opponent's assault.
Smacking his gums a few times, Yeung spat out a loose tooth before speaking. "You're strong, I'll give you that much…If we had fought a year ago, this would have been a good match! However, it's a year later, and you don't stand a chance against me!"
"Err..WHAT!?" screeched the Caucasian fighter disbelievingly.
Again, Yeung barreled into Bridled Fury and kept the pressure on the older adolescent. Every time a hook to the face would knock Fury one direction, Yeung would follow suite with a second pulverizing hook that threw his opponent back into what amounted to a meat grinder.
By the end of this heinous assault, Bridle Fury's face looked like a blood-stained purple catcher's mitt. Left to fall to the tiles, his face smacked against the floor with a sick sounding, wet 'thud.'
"This can't be happening….," wheezed BF, "It can't end like this!"
"Hmph! You're not worth my full strength."
At this proclamation, Fury was taken back. "Huh?"
"Clean the wax out of your ears!" said Yeung snidely. "I've been holding back this entire time! I can't afford to waste my real power on someone like you!"
"You're full of it!" mouthed Fury spitting. "If you're as strong as you'd like me to believe than why don't you prove it?!"
A crooked smile crept it's nasty little way upward as Yeung spoke, "No offense dude but you don't look like you can handle it."
"Why did you get as strong as you have?" asked Yeung. "I mean…breaking the 'wall of humanity' is something that very few people manage to do."
"Fine!" muttered Fury. "It was my grandpa. Two years ago, my grandpa fought Hard Copper in the semi-finals. Hard Copper berated our style as he tortured him! My grandpa was a proud man! He did everything he could not to let that monster hear him scream! In the end, Hard Copper destroyed his skills…"
Bridled Fury took a moment to collect himself before continuing. "After the tournament was over, Gramps died in the hospital. His last request to me was that I devote my life to proving that standard fighting theory can be just as competitive as the ancient martial arts!"
"And that is the reason why you could never win against me much less Hard Copper," Yeung explained.
Just then, the announcer Mr. Firecracker, chimed in. "Need I remind the combatants that you are fighting on the timer!"
"I see that a war of ideas will have to be put off for another day," Fury said with a smile.
Yeung couldn't help but return a smirk of his own. "So it seems…I guess I outta show you that real strength I was talking about."
Instantaneously, Yeung phased out of Fury's field of vision. Startled, Fury jerked fitfully ever which way in hopes of spotting the shorter teen fighter.
Up in the stands, Toa Pai-Pai and Master Roshi continued to study Yeung's movements….
"He has significant speed," remarked the old Turtle Hermit. "I wouldn't expect someone with such a short, bulky frame to move that quick!"
"He's still a clots!" said Toa. "All that training and he still has two left feet! He can do submission holds but he can't fight his way out of them! This is what happens when you prepare for a certain fight in hast. If I were Tien, I'd let me train the boy for another three months! Bridled Fury would have never been able to perform that gay-assed headbutt on me!"
"However, little by little Yeung is showing his true abilities," responded Roshi. "Aside from Tien, Yeung could easily be the strongest contestant at this tournament."
"Strongest yes! Skilled? That matter is still in the air."
"Did he disappear!?" wondered the blond grappler aloud. All of a sudden…
"Hello." Yeung materialized out of nowhere and with one outstretched finger, jabbed his opponent at the base of the spine. In no time, Fury's legs began to buckle and the blond fighter crashed to his hands and knees.
Reaching around the downed fighter's neck, the teen warrior slashed his thumb across the tip of Fury's chin. As for Fury, the lights were on, but no one was home.
"One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Six….Seven…Eight…Nine…annnd Ten! That's it everyone! Bridled Fury is out cold! Rolo Yeung advances to the next round!"
The crowd of vengeful spectators grew ever more vindictive. Still more booing and cursing were thrown at Yeung. With things continuing to get ever more out of hand, the police and the facility's security detail were starting to get nervous.
Back with Toa and Roshi's group, Vegeta and Yamucha were being confronted by the cops. Combined, the two of them had KO'd over fifty rioters. Needless to say, Vegeta was getting ready to add to that number.
"Look buddy!" said the officer warningly, "I'm just saying that if this starts again, we're gonna have to escort you and your friend over there out of the premises!"
"I'll go when I'm damned well ready!" snapped the Saiyan prince. "I haven't even got my hot dog yet!"
"That's it!" shouted the officer. Motioning for two other personnel that were with him, the officer whipped out a knife stick. "We're taking you, your friend, and every one of these guys you knocked out down to the station on charges of disturbing the peace!" However, before the police could do anything, another rush of angry Satan fans tackled them from behind and began to wail on them severely. Some of them even made another go at Vegeta and Yamacha.
"I'm gonna sit some place else if this keeps up," nagged Toa. "Can't believe this shit! I paid good money for these seats!"
"Maybe we could jump down onto the field and have a ringside view," the old Turtle Hermit suggested. "With all the security up here, no one's really gonna care that much and who knows!? I might get lucky and land me a pair of Beatrice's panties."
Grudgingly, Toa got up to follow old man Roshi to ringside. He still couldn't figure out how with such a childish, perverted teacher, the Turtle School managed to accomplish as much as it had. It had to have been some cruel joke of the gods.
Down in the field, Yeung was confronting Fein…
"So much for that sixth sense of yours," said Yeung suredly, "That guy was a punk!"
Upon seeing Yeung so abhorrently dominant in his match with Bridled Fury, Fein found himself in a state of both shock and awe. It was not too long ago that Yeung was his junior. Now however, he found himself doing a great deal of introspection and he didn't like it one bit.
"That was impressive," Fein remarked with a barely stifled 'gulp'. "I'd like to know how you knocked him cold like that."
"A true artist doesn't give away all his trade secrets."
At the time that Yeung's match with Bridled Fury had transpired, Hard Copper too had been watching with boundless anticipation….
"Nerve strikes huh..?!" The oversized native grinned in a truly sickening fashion. "Child's play fit for a child! That's all it is. You'll need more than that when we finally meet…"
The large Indian had entered the ring for his own respective match. Awaiting him in Cell block 3 was the Mongolian wrestler that Yeung had talked to earlier in the locker rooms.
The man bore into Hard Copper with a look of disgust. "It's been a while hasn't it?"
"So it has…," HC retorted. "Listen! You know as well as I do that mediocrity such as yours isn't worthy of wiping the crud from my asshole. In light of this, I have a proposition for you."
Just like that, the look of the wrestler in question went from disgust to virulent anger. Hard Copper practically lived on messing with his opponent's ego.
"Here's my proposition. I'll give you one chance to walk away. Otherwise, I'll amuse myself with you the best way I can. Death is like fine wine! It should not be rushed. One should savor it and enjoy it's sweet, sweet aroma!"
Hard Copper's opponent began to smile in turn. "No thanks! Even if I lose this match, I'm gonna do all I can with it to make sure you are in no condition to continue this tournament."
Upon hearing this, the Mountain King began to laugh maddeningly. "Either way's fine with me. This is more fun anyhow!"
"Yeung will beat you!" asserted the wrestler.
"I'm afraid that your hopes are misplaced," spoke the giant, "I only allowed that boy to live for the very reason I allow anyone to live. To entertain me!"
With that, Hard Copper barreled into the smaller wrestler and snared him by the throat. It all happened so fast that the wrestler didn't have time to see it coming. The tribesman then jerked him right off the ground so that he was suspended in midair.
"Now…, how would you like to have it?" asked the Indian playfully. "This is about the only enjoyment I tend to get until the Finals so don't spoil it for me!"
The wrestler for his part was shaking in his boots. He tried to signal his forfeiture, but Hard Copper had his windpipe clamped so tightly that only mewling noises escaped his lips. All of a sudden, he felt a painful intrusion spread into his ribcage like hot fire.
"Oh my sweet Lord!" quivered cell Block 3's announcer, "Human beings just don't do this to each other! People, don't let your children watch this! Nightmares don't compare!"
Wailing like a puppet suspended above a stage, the man looked down to behold a truly gruesome sight. Lodged in the wrestler's ribcage was Hard Copper's other hand, it's fingers filleting the intercostals tissue like a knife through butter. The Mountain King cackled grotesquely as his hand deftly found it's mark between the shoulder blade and the ribs. What followed was a resounding, wet 'crick'.
Smiling like a sadistic, serial rapist, Hard Copper went off on a rant. "Aside from the plural tissue located between the lungs and the rib cage, one of the most problematic injuries facing an athlete is a rib fracture right below the shoulder blade! How's about we let the people in the stands know just how you feel?"
Just then, Hard Copper released his hold on the man's trachea and fish-hooked him on a finger just below the sternum. Hanging from the vicious giant's phalange, the wrestler screeched in exquisite terror, squirts of blood accentuating the ghastly scene.
In the stands, screams and pleads rained down from on high. All around, shouts of "That's Enough!" and "SOMEBODY MAKE IT STOP!" were heard.
Down in the field, Yeung had had just about enough of this mindless torture. Sure, he was no angel, but what Hard Copper was doing was something altogether different.
"STOP IT!!" screamed the boy. Upon catching his voice, Hard Copper dropped the mangled wrestler.
The two of them locked glares as if frozen in place and time. Then, the brutal tribesman motioned for the announcer who had paled a few shades. Skittishly, the announcer stepped into the ring. The contestants in the other three prelim rings halted their own respective matches so that they could hear what the crazed champion had to say.
Taking the microphone in hand, Hard Copper began to address his adversary. "Stop it? Stop it he says!? Hahahaha….Why? This match has four minutes left and you want me to stop!"
Jody Firecracker handed Yeung his own mic so that the audience could hear both sides of the drama unfold.
"You'd better!" growled the teen fighter. "Stop this crazy shit!"
"Oh, I'll stop!" chided the massive Korin Indian. "However, I'm going to raise the stakes a bit!"
The monstrous brute paused a moment before continuing. "If you can't beat me, I'm going to kill every single person who participated in this competition!"
Upon hearing this, murmurs of panic began to spread through the stands. However, these were soon silenced by Hard Copper's continuance…
"And I'll be visiting North City Hospital first! I'm sure the infirm of North City could use a little company! Heck, maybe a visit from the champion will leave an 'impression'!"
Leaving the ring, the megalith, mountain king tossed the mic back to the announcer who in turn was quick to scamper away. His sinister laughter echoed through the field, as the other participants gave him a wide breath.
"It's one thing to be a murderer," Toa began. "It's a whole nother matter entirely when someone enjoys it."
"That guy is one sick puppy," said Master Roshi. "We're gonna have to have Yamucha and Tien on standby as soon as the tournament's over. Something tells me he isn't going to be satisfied with losing."
"What are you two doing down here?"
Toa and Roshi snapped around to find Tien had snuck up behind them.
"Err.., We wanted some better seats!" lied Roshi hastily.
"You just wanted to swipe a pair of Beatrice's undergarments from the locker rooms!" said Mercenary Toa accusingly, "Seriously, how you Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle knockoffs ever got along at all is beyond me!"
The act of someone disparaging his school was one thing the old Turtle Hermit would not stand for. "Err…I'll have you know Toa that my school has accomplished more than you can ever hope to imagine!"
"Your Turtle School has had a run of good luck. I'll give you that! However, that's all going to change soon! Your prodigy Son Goku is gone and Yeung is gonna one day fill the power vacuum!"
"Hah!" shouted Master Roshi, "Like hell he will! Even if that boy had twenty years, he still wouldn't measure up to Goku!"
"Five years is all Yeung will need to surpass that recently deceased pineapple-haired monkey!" argued Toa. "Mark my words you aged fucknut! Yeung will someday be stronger than any of us!"
"The preliminaries are almost over," said Tien interrupting the two. "Just thirty more fights. I haven't seen anyone very strong upon entering, not that I intended to."
"Well you, Yamucha, Krillain, and Choatzu are in a league of your own," said Master Roshi, "And that's not even counting Vegeta! That reminds me…Why did you enter anyway?"
The triclops smiled widely before answering. "To be honest, I wanted to see just how far Yeung has come since I left him with the Crane dojo. What better way to find out than to try him for myself?"
Yeung, in the meantime, was seething with venom at the display of utter brutality that Hard Copper had put on earlier. The wrestler that he had met in the locker rooms was likely being hauled off to an emergency ward at the very hospital that Hard Copper was set to attack after the tournament. That wrestler, as well as Growser from before could very well be crippled for life. They'd be helpless!
Yeung did all he could to keep his anger in check. Veins popped on his forehead and a dim ember of red energy began to emanate from his being. In addition to dilating, his pupils began to glow with a faint, white ether. Loose pebbles and blades of grass casually rose from the ground and were flung to the wayside by the effects that his rising battle power were having on the surrounding area.
Just then, Tien stepped up behind him. Being preoccupied with his own issues, Yeung didn't seem to notice the burly triclops. Tien took a moment to study Yeung in silence.
"Incredible!" the three-eyed warriorsaid to himself, "His battle power is skyrocketing just like it did at the Cell Games. What kind of Pandora's box did I pick up?"
Tien grimaced internally. Regardless of whether Yeung did well in the remainder of his matches, Tien knew that he would have to keep his promise to give the boy further training. Even now, Yeung was further along at fourteen than Tien had been at twenty-five. A lot of this could be attributed to Toa's use of anabolic steroids and testosterone injections. However, there was also a part of him that believed Yeung was destined to come far. This part of him believed that Yeung had gotten too powerful too fast. Because of this, he had mixed feelings about helping the boy go further. For everything the kid had acquired from Toa in the past eight months, there were so many other things that were left to flounder.
Just then, Yeung turned to see Tien standing over him. A little ways behind him were his Master, the mercenary Toa Pai Pai, and Kamesinnen Muten Roshi who were arguing over something or other.
"Hello Yeung," greeted the triclops.
"Hi," said Yeung flatly.
Tien could tell immediately that the recent happening was starting to have an emotional effect on the boy. Crouching down, the older man sat beside the teen wonder.
"Tien," began Yeung, "Promise me something."
"Sure! What is it?"
Yeung gripped the leg of his pants so hard, blood stains began to form on the fabric. "Promise me that if I lose to that monster, you won't let him hurt anyone else! Alright! Please promise me that!"
Tien smiled warmly before laying a hand upon Yeung's shoulder. "You don't even have to ask. I'd never let someone like him harm anyone."
"Thanks," smiled the boy.
"Besides," said Tien, "You'll beat him so I don't have to!"
"I appreciate the confidence."
Just then the announcer Jody Firecracker began to hearken on the next match.
"Our next battle will be held between Rolo Yeung and Master Lee of the West City Karate Dojo! As many of you know, Mr. Lang has a deep-seeded grudge against Yeung regarding an incident more than eight months prior in which Yeung single-handedly trumped Mr. Satan's entire West City franchise. Regardless of your personal feelings towards the boy, you have to admit that his fighting record isn't one to sneeze at!"
Tien removed his hand from Yeung's shoulder and sat up. "I look forward to seeing you in the finals."
With a curt nod to his three-eyed friend, Yeung readied himself for his next fight. Upon entering the ring, Yeung approached his opponent.
Looking closely, Yeung couldn't help but notice the massive scar that ran all the way over Master Lee's cranium. It was there over eight months ago that Yeung had ripped the large fighter's scalp off in a back alley street brawl.
Master Lee looked down at the short teen warrior with barely bridled contempt. "Don't even try apologizing to me you little pussy fart! Thanks to you, I lay in a hospital bed for three months. After this next match, I promise you that if I ever see you in public again I'll pop a cap in your ass!"
Without a word even said on Yeung's part, the two combatants broke off and headed to their respective sides of the ring.
"I want you to know that my time spent in the rehab gym of the West City Hospital was geared entirely towards getting ready for this fight!" explained Lee. "I did everything I knew to bridge the gap that existed between you and me. It was there that I outgrew Mr. Satan's teachings. Men like us can't be bound to our master's apron strings forever!"
"Then you've used your time well," remarked Yeung.
"The contestants may begin!"
As opposed to what his last two opponents did, Master Lee stood firm, neither backing away or moving forward to intercept Yeung. This man was in it to play smart.
Fists resting to either side, Lee just stood there as if daring Yeung to step up. Skulking forward a bit, Yeung could almost make out a grumbling coming from the older man. "Come on! Come on! I want you to do it…Hit me!"
Surging forward, Yeung doubled over the karate instructor with a tempered uppercut. Staggering, the West City Karate Dojo's shidoshi fell flat on his face before unceremoniously blacking out.
"Well…," began Yeung softly, "At least he had the right idea." As soon as Mr. Firecracker confirmed the knockout, the youth left the ring."
"Well, there you have it!" blared the announcer, "Master Lee didn't have a prayer!"
Outside the ring, Yeung found himself confronted by Mr. Satan who was flanked by his top two students Caroni and Paroski. The fact that the two Satan pupils had entered with their teacher didn't seem all that important to Yeung considering that the two men weren't much better than their instructor.
"You know…," started Mr. Satan, "If Lee continues to lose to you like this, it's eventually gonna prompt him to retire."
"I have a feeling that he'll try again one day," said Yeung. "Hating me seems to have inspired him. I wouldn't count him short."
Just then, Fein ran up to the group.
"Well, I guess that means the preliminaries are over," said Fein.
"For some odd reason, I think I got saddled with all the tough opponents during the prelims," muttered Yeung. "If you had fought Bridled Fury, you'd have gotten your ass kicked."
"That's why I'm glad I didn't fight him," admitted the taller adolescent, "By the time we were through, I'd be too worn out to continue."
"Uh-oh! Stop the presses!" chided Yeung, "Fein has just admitted he's half-assed!"
Off to the side, Mr. Satan and his students were conferring…
"You've gotta feel sorry for the guys that fought Hard Copper," said Mr. Satan with a twinge of remorse. "Three of them were damned good fighters! One of them I knew personally. They'll likely have to retire due to massive injuries."
"I still feel bad about Mistro Lee!" Piroski added in his Russian dialect. "We all go way back. This is err…like the 2nd time he has lost to same opponent! He trained so hard, injuries or no!"
"It's almost looking as if the real fight is gonna be between Yeung and the Mountain King," said Caroni in a shot a stating the obvious. "Our school's franchise might be visible, but the school itself just doesn't seem to be a major factor in this tournament."
The burly man Paroski mulled over this. "Being recognized as victors of Cell Games raised our profile but it sure as hell did not help our fighting ability. After National Budokai is over, we rededicate ourselves to training, yes?"
"Hmm…," nodded Satan. The large afroed Polynesian stroked his mustache furtively. "It's starting to look as if we're gonna be dealing with guys like Yeung and Fein more often. God! I wish I had a drink right now! By the way, where's your manager?"
"Miss Pizza got pregnant," explained Caroni. "Her appointment at the Orange Star City abortion clinic was scheduled for today. She said that she would be setting her VCR on recording. If it's not one thing, it's another."
Just then, Mr. Firecracker came jogging up to the group followed by a small gaggle of journalists.
"Hi Joe," greeted Mr. Satan briefly throwing his hand up.
"Hey! I'd like to take the time to compliment you all on your spectacular performances in the preliminaries! Again, sorry Paroski. Megaton was a tournament newbie so it's conceivable that you would lose. No one knew a thing about him."
Paroski for his part heaved with a deep sigh. "Aehh…, you win some, lose some, no?"
"The same goes for you Caroni," said Mr. Firecracker. "Still, Jezebel was quite the opponent!"
Caroni shot a pouty look at the announcer. Firecracker for his part sensed that he wasn't winning any points with his longtime associates. Doing a double-take, the man attempted to change subjects.
"This is the first year in which the prelims have been open to the public so we didn't know what to expect having four separate announcers for four separate blocks. I just hope we didn't put off the audience too much. The press had a particularly hard time keeping things organized!"
"Then I'll have to talk to the President of the Martial Arts Society and see if we can try something different next year," spoke the Champ. "That guy owes me a favor anyway… Can't have them getting bad shots of me when I'm at my greatest!"
"Right…, It's not fair to your fans!" added Mr. Firecracker. "Anyway, I was told to bring all the finalists into the central ring. We're gonna start the draw to determine the order in which the matches will be held. Will you please come with me? Also, where are Fein Okonkwo, Tien Shinhan, and Rolo Yeung?"
The Champ motioned over his shoulder to where Yeung and the others were meeting off to the side.
"Hey kid!" Yeung turned to see the announcer from his prelim block.
"Wow boy! You're looking good!" said Mr. Firecracker complimenting the teen terror. "You've changed so much since you participated in the Cell Games! At first, I had trouble believing that was really you."
Flexing his right arm, Yeung smiled with pride. "I've put on bulk and inches. Bring on the world! You're that guy from 'Super Fighters' aren't you?"
"Mmmhmm," nodded the man, "I've followed Mr. Satan, Piroski, Spopovitch, and other professional contenders in the 'Super Fighters' circuit for over twenty years and I've never seen someone who can bring what you can to the table! You're outstanding! No…outstanding isn't the word for it! Supernatural…that's it!"
"And I'm his faithful sidekick!" declared Fein, trying to take a smidge of credit.
"Who is this?" asked Mr. Firecracker.
Fein was absolutely flabbergasted. "Uhh…, you didn't see how cool I looked out there?!"
Jody Firecracker didn't seem one bit interested. "Nope. I was too busy watching this tournament's rising star." Mr. Firecracker began to playfully ruffle Yeung's hair. "Will you all come with me?"
"Now I understand how Senior Krillain feels…" Fein muttered.
Slowly, Yeung, Mr. Satan, Fein, and Tien followed Mr. Satan's long-time friend and coworker into the central ring. Waiting there were the other finalists, including Hard Copper. Before them, was Mr. Akira who was standing behind a makeshift table with cardboard box on it. The box itself had a sizable hole cut into the top. Off to the side were a couple of tournament officials who had set up a chalkboard displaying the roster.
Upon entering the ring, Yeung took a moment to look over the other finalists. Among them was the strange monk-looking man that Yeung had bumped into in the locker rooms. The man continued to stare at him in a most sinister way. There was a woman who aside from height and build, looked similar to Beatrice from earlier.
The most disturbed looking of these combatants looked like an invertebrate that one would see clinging to the ocean floor. This was a creature that had no skin or connective tissues to speak of. From what Yeung guessed was it's mouth erupted plumes of green miasma that coalesced into a gray rain cloud above it's head.
"OK people! Listen up!" shouted the announcer. "This is how we're gonna do this! I will call your names and you will step forward and draw a numbered ball from the box! That number will determine your placement in the quarterfinals!"
"First up is Spopovitch!" declared announcer Akira.
Upon hearing the name, a large, muscle-bound red-head wearing a knockoff Tarzan costume stepped up to the table. Reaching into the box, he drew number 15.
"Spopovitch is number 15! Next on the list is Jezebel!"
The woman bearing a resemblance to Beatrice stepped forward and drew her lot. She in turn pulled a number 10.
"Jezebel Fitzpatrick is number 10! Alright, next is our hero Mr. Satan!"
"Oh yeah!" drawled Mr. Satan enthusiastically. The afroed man pulled number 16.
"The World Champion is number 16!" Upon hearing this, the Satan fans in the stands went ape-hit.
"Mmmhmm…, next is Fein!"
Without a word, the tall teenager walked forward and drew his number which happened to be 6.
"Fein Okonkwo is number 6! Now, will Punter please come forward!"
It was then that a massive, portly Arab Persian man came out from behind the rest of the contestants. Reaching into the box, he drew number 12.
"Punter is number 12! Will Snoozenheimer please come here?"
Snoozenhimer was an obese Bavarian German dressed in Yodeler's overalls. He seemed a bit tipsy coming up to the table.
"Are you gonna be OK?" asked the announcer. Ignoring the question entirely, the drunk Bavarian pulled out number 3.
"Hmm…Snoozenheimer is number 3! Next is Inside-Out!"
Slogging forward, the otherworldly invertebrate like creature made it's way to the front. Sliding in a mucus covered hand, it/he brought out number 14.
"Inside-Out! You are number 14! Next up is Siafu!"
An enormous humanoid leopard came forward casting predatory glances ever which way. It's fangs were so long, they protruded from it's upper jaw. The jungle cat dived it's paw into the box, fishing up number 7.
"Lucky number 7 it is! Would Rat the 'Iron Bullet' please come here?"
The mysterious bald Buddhist monk who had up to this point been gunning for Yeung came up to the table. Briefly casting a sickening glance Yeung's way, the man plucked ball number 2 from the box.
"Hmm…, Rat is number 2! Next up is former World Champion, Tien Shinhan!"
On his draw, Tien pulled a 13.
"And Tien is number 13! Calling Killa! Are you here?"
Just then, a big, black man who had been sitting got up and approached the table.
"Killa is number 11! Next is Megaton! There's Megaton, right there!"
The one called Megaton was an anomaly of nature; a walking, talking rock possessing an asymmetrical body. Standing seven feet tall and weighing in at over three thousand pounds, this basalt monster was a true heavyweight.
Reaching into the box, the creature nearly split the table in half. Upon pulling out, the rocky golem opened his baseball glove sized hand to reveal a half-crushed rubber ball bearing the number 5.
"Megaton is number 5! Write that down would you? Next we have 'The Dragon'!"
The said contestant stepped forward and withdrew a number 4.
"Next is Rolo Yeung!"
Coming up to the table, Yeung fished a number 1 from the box.
'Once again, I'm at the start of the roster…,'
"Yeung is number 1! Will Ackmed please come here?"
Yet another portly Middle Eastern man came up to the table. Sporting a turban and a thick beard, the contestant in question looked like an Imam. His number came out to be 9.
"You're number 9 Ackmed! And last but not least, this tournament's current champion Hard Copper, the Mountain King! Make some room people!"
Shoving some of the other contestants aside, the vicious warrior yanked out a number 8.
Adding a dashing spin for emphasis, Mr. Akira turned to address the audience before conferring with the participates themselves. "And there we have it folks! The lineup for the 16th National Budokai has been decided!"
"Each one of you symbolizes the epitome of fighting sports. Each of you has trained hard, dug deep, and fought your way through the ranks to emerge on the national stage. However, for those of you who are from out of country, I must warn you that your non-National status will result in the deduction of a lofty surtax from your winnings. I will now turn the stage over to my esteemed colleague Jody Firecracker."
Clearing his throat, Mr. Satan's longtime announcer sidetrack picked up where Mr. Akira left off. "OK everyone! Let's go over the rules. Your matches will have no time limit. I'm sure many of you are aware that the Tenkaichi Tournament has recently had time limits placed on it's matches. The Martial Arts Society's Board of Directors has done this in light of past incidences in which the final round has lasted way past what is considered palatable. Such instances include the 21st Tenkaichi Tournament's final match between Son Goku and Jackie Chun as well as the 22nd tournament's final match between Tien Shinhan and Son Goku. Fortunately, the national level has yet to have time limits placed on it's matches. However, other rules remain standard. You lose if you fall out of the ring, give up, are knocked out, or if you kill your opponent. There is however a stipulation on the last rule. If the combatant is sure that his/her opponent is trying to use excessive force in the match, you are allowed to do what is necessary to bring the match to a halt. This last rule was put into place in regards to our current champ's excessive use of force."
A wry smile graced Hard Copper's lips upon hearing this. "It's not my fault my toys break so easily."
Power Levels:
Average Human: 5
Rolo Yeung: 281
Fein: 175
Hard Copper: 302
Bridled Fury: 140
Mercenary Toa: 190
Master Roshi: 130
Master Lee: 45
Mister Satan: 32