Ken Masters when he was on the verge of a mental breakdown was a fascinating sight. He tried to fight against it, but Juri could see it radiating off him like beams of light. A mask, he wore that was moments away from cracking. It was as amusing as it was relatable for reasons, Juri couldn't even begin to remember again. It bugged her that Ken could see the same beams off her. It annoyed her that the little pretty cop lady had been digging into her past and then spreading that to outsiders.

There was some solace in the fact that Ken probably didn't know much of the details, which was a good thing. And Juri would rather eat dog shit off the street than tell him. He wasn't her confidant; she didn't need one of those. He wasn't a friend; who needed friends anyway? He was an experiment. A guinea pig to give her a reason to get up in the morning. When he had danced for her, she'd throw him away.

Because she indeed had nothing better to do, Juri stuck around and wandered around the little man cave. Wasn't Ken loaded with cash? Did he just abandon it all when he fled? Was this some kind of self-punishment? Juri didn't ponder further on her musings, sneering at how bare everything was. She made her way to the bedroom and pushed the door open. The curtains were drawn, and the bed was a mess. In here, the man-scent was even stronger.

Juri had to close the door and return to the common area. Under the pinboard, there was a box of random things with a binder laying on top of it. Curiosity got the better of her and she reached for it, opening and expecting to see the mad ramblings of a hobo fallen from grace. In the binder were a bunch of papers, stacked in random order.

Leasing contracts, employment papers, false identification, maps, old news articles pertaining to Ken's struggle, a few family photos, the usual junk. And a copy of a letter addressed to a certain Eliza Masters.

Wasn't that his wife? With nothing to do, Juri unfolded the paper and read, ready to vomit three lines in. It was filled with sentimental trite from someone who was aching for love and probably pussy. Apologies and maudlin meandering. Sorry for leaving. Take care of Mel – whoever that was. I love you. You deserve happiness. You deserve the truth. Miss you two with every breath I take until I die.

Yuck, Juri thought and folded the paper. Her eyes landed on one of the photos that had fallen out and she picked it up. Eliza Masters was a striking woman alright. Long legs, wavy blonde hair, and a supermodel figure. No wonder Ken was hankering for her. The kid next to her was probably their semen sprout. He bore some strong resemblance to both his parents. Same blonde hair as the mother, same blue eyes as the father. Adorable? Maybe not; Juri didn't really like kids.

Screw birthing some of her own. And yet, the thought did pass her mind as she packed the photo and the binder away. She had to carefully maneuver it around her past and imagine, just for a moment, what it would feel like to be a mother.

Juri ever rarely felt unease but now, there was a part of her that couldn't help but deride her lack of maternal capabilities. And who would the father be?

Ugh, she didn't want to think about that. The binder was put in its rightful place under the pinboard and Juri took a seat on the couch, eventually laying down while she stared at the ceiling. Her wounds still ached from yesterday, a vivid sign that she was still alive.

Admittingly, Juri had been careless then. In an effort to feel alive, she approached the gangbangers, taunted them, and then fought them – all of them. The slimy fuckers had used weeps when she proved too strong for them, and eventually, they had her overpowered and chained up. The Feng Shui Engine lost steam midway through the fight, just as the idiots called for backup.

Saying it out loud sounded so wrong but that was what happened.

It was a side effect, she had begun trying to work with, given that cocksucker Bison ripped out her first model. Maybe Juri should have told Ken that the only reason why he won was because she had managed to take out a good chunk of the gangbanger's numbers. It occurred to her that she would have to carry him through their battles. That was okay; it would probably hurt his pride and give her more time to play.

At some point, Juri must have fallen asleep for when she awoke, it was already dark outside and her stomach howled with hunger. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, dragging her feet to the kitchen area and opened the fridge, just as the lock to the door clicked and she saw a mop of blonde hair under a hood enter. Ken had a placid look on his face like he was walking in a trance, but some life sparked in his eyes when he noticed Juri standing in the kitchen.

"I guess you're hungry," his lips twitched into a rueful, hesitant smirk like the divorced dad, he probably was. He took off his jacket and hung it on the nook. Despite the life that was pushed onto him, he had a tired look on his face that probably aged him by half a decade. It was only a matter of time before he'd snap, Juri concluded.

Without a word, he took some pasta and threw it into a pot, heating it to a boil, then removing the water and putting tomato into the mix. He looked content for a moment, even if he wasn't smiling. Was cooking a coping mechanism? If so, then weird.

"So, what's the plan?" Juri asked, rubbing the bruises around her nose. Her stomach reacted strongly to the scent of tomato and cheese and her mouth salivated at the two plates that were put on the table.

Ken sat down before he answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. She hadn't noticed it before now but there was a purple bruise on the side of his jaw. Suppose he hadn't been fully superhuman after all. He gestured to the pinboard, particularly at the note on which it read; Bull Bar.

"I feed you and myself, then we head out."

"Cool," Juri reached for the food, eyes flicking upwards when she felt Ken stare at her.

"Don't kill anyone," he warned, and she rolled her eyes.


Bull Bar was a seedy, dingy little establishment that looked like a magnet for troublemakers and middle-aged men going through a midlife crisis while they watched baseball games. A wonder that Juri hadn't been here before but then again, she hadn't been in Metro City much.

They entered the bar and headed straight for the counter where a bartender was tapping beer for nearby patrons, a massive beast of a man. Fully bearded, fully bald, and massively overweight with a scar across his left eye that extended to his forehead. He looked at the pair, scanning them before he opened his mouth.

"What'll it be?" his tone was far friendlier than his facial expression.

"Headbutt Corps. Someone said I could find them here," Ken said with no emotion whatsoever. He didn't even react when the bartender flinched.

"Well, I'm Bill Bull, the owner of this bar but who the fuck's askin'?" the bartender regained his composure, his black brushy brow pinching together into a frown.

"A patron," Ken responded calmly, though Juri could hear the looming rage underneath.

"Yeah well, I don't answer to the Headbutt Corps anymore," Bill put the glass of beer on the table counter hard enough to spill a few drops.

Undeterred, Ken kept glaring at him. "Fine but you know where they are."

Bill now looked particularly sullen but kept his mouth shut, simply glaring at the man in front of him. Some level of anticipation was beginning to brew underneath this dick-measuring contest but Juri wasn't all that interested in watching them gaze into the other's eyes, so she shifted her attention elsewhere.

Coincidentally she focused on the entrance just as two men walked in, massive like mountains.

They were as wide as they were tall. One was dressed in blue suspenders and had a bald head that shined like a polished shoe. The other one had a Fu Manchu and one of those Chinese braids for men. They moved like they owned the place. The tiny handful of patrons already present hadn't reacted when Juri and Ken entered but with these two men, they looked uncomfortable and eventually snuck out of the bar entirely like it was their cue or one of the men would eat them. If the two of them got this reaction out of people, that meant they were probably bad guys. And that meant they could pack a punch.

Juri tried not to grin in anticipation.

The man in the blue suspenders stepped right up next to Ken but focused on the bartender instead. He was probably about to order something but must have noticed Bill's tense disposition.

"What's with ya?" he asked.

The bartender answered by jerking his head towards Ken, who became the center of attention. He remained where he stood, only shifting his gaze to the man in the suspenders. He asked a simple question, now dropping all civility through a slightly impatient growl. "Headbutt Corps?"

"Yeah, we are. What about it, scrawny?" the one with the braid jeered with spittle flying out of his mouth and a tense atmosphere settled in the bar at that confirmation.

This time, Juri couldn't help but smile. Adrenaline was beginning to gather in her veins. The signs of being alive. No words were uttered before she took charge and went for the attack, dashing towards the one with the braid and kicking him under his chin. The massive girth of his body stumbled backward, over the counter, and into several taps, taking them with him. In a split second, Bill lost his composure and let out a guttural roar before he reached for a beer bottle and smashed it, sending glass everywhere.

The man in the suspenders flipped several tables and reached for chairs, hurling them at Ken and Juri who both dug out of the way. Without discussing any strategy, they both settled for one enemy each; Ken took Bill and Juri set her eyes on his loser ally. The man charged headfirst at her, probably living up to the "Headbutt Corps" name. It meant however that he wasn't very strategic or refined in fighting. Juri evaded his attacks, sliding under several tables and narrowly avoiding a glass that was hurled in her direction. She skipped over the shards that sprinkled onto the floor and took a deep breath.

Reach in.

Dig deep.

Let loose.

Power flowed through her veins, pumping energy and ki into her body as it attuned to the Feng Shui Engine. Suddenly, it was as if everything around her moved so slowly, far too slow for her to get challenged. A table was thrown in her direction but with ease, she dashed out of the way and leaped towards the man in the suspenders, raising her leg to his face. The crunch from the impact that broke bone and cartilage was disturbingly satisfying.

Blood splattered from his nose in tandem with a pained roar. His eyes flew open and he tried reaching out to grab her but Juri was too fast, backing away before he could take her with him in his fall. The force was strong enough to lift him off his feet and send him flying across the ground and into the wall with a sound thud. He tried to stand with his knees wobbling under him.

Determination turned to fear in his eyes and satisfaction settled over Juri as she rushed towards him. And before she was aware of it, she stood on top of her target, her feet digging into the blubber of his stomach. He wasn't as strong as he looked, what a shame. Juri stepped down onto the floor, and looked at his face, noting the blood and the teeth that lay around his head.

When all felt silent, she lifted her head and looked over at Ken as he stood over his defeated opponent. Bill had been knocked unconscious but he wasn't nearly as beaten as his friend.

Ken stormed towards the one with the suspenders, stopping right in front of the man's head.

"Nayshall Bombing Plot, ring any bells?"

It used to have a long-winded name before the media shortened it. Something named after some other company that had sponsored building projects in Nayshall. It had been decreed as such because that company was the primary sponsor - or something like that.

"Fuck you!" the man spat, bloody spit staining his lips. Before Ken could react, Juri stomped the man right in the middle of his chest, smiling in glee as he yelped in pain. It reminded her of a story told to her by one of the scientists from S.I.N.; of how he was once an EMT who broke someone's ribcage while performing first aid.

"For your sake, you better speak up," Juri dug her heel into the man's flesh, watching him squirm with discomfort before she stomped on his chest bone yet again.

"F-fine, ask Dug. He-he's at the Bay. He handles the shipments," he whimpered and that was probably the answer Ken was looking for. When Juri looked at him, she was not surprised to see his eyes growing wide with understanding – and discomfort.

Well, that was a pretty normal reaction to her tactics, she concluded. For his sake, she hoped he kept his mouth shut about it.

"How do I get to him?" he asked instead, and the man hesitated until he looked up at Juri and the wicked smile that spread over her lips like a promise of agony if he didn't answer. Terror made his eyes stretch wide as he sought refuge in the one person who wasn't torturing him.

"W-women!" it flew out of him, and the implication was allowed to sit and linger in the air for a bit while Juri lifted her foot off his chest.

She looked at Ken and he looked restless, but he had gotten what he wanted so he walked towards the bar counter and reached for a notepad, scribbling down the information so it could join the other notes on the pinboard. Afterward, he headed outside with Juri following him. Her itch for violence hadn't been entirely sated but the cool air of the night calmed her down a bit. There was always another day to fight and with this project of Ken's, that day would probably come soon.

"Thanks for the help," he suddenly said once some distance had been made between them and the. He stopped to look at her and his lips pulled into a genuine smile. Momentarily his gaze dropped down to his hands, at the small spots of blood from where glass shards had once been embedded into his skin. It was like he wanted to shake hands but gave up on it.

His goodwill struck a weird, unexpected note in Juri. No one in her adult life had actually thanked her unless it was through sarcasm or done hesitantly. Ken was genuine when he did so and she didn't know how to feel about it. So she didn't feel; she brushed it off like it was outside the social norm.

"Ew, don't thank me. It's weird. Just let me know when you find the other asshole."

Ken's shoulders slumped a bit – in confusion? Disappointment? Then why did his eyes remain bright? He let out a deep, quiet huff and held out the piece of paper from the bar. It seemed that he had taken the pen with him.

"I need your number so I can call you."

Scoffing, she wrote her phone number on the paper and handed it back to him. He smiled again and she wished he'd stop that.

"Thanks."

Ugh, there it was again. Without a word, Juri turned around and walked away just so she could get away from his nonsense. When she stood alone without the feeling of sharp blue eyes staring at her, it occurred to her that she now needed to worry about having a bed. She should probably have told Ken that she didn't have a place to rest for the night.


For reference, ribcages caving in can absolutely happen during CPR and it is as horrific as it sounds.