The Colour Purple Chapter 21: Night at the Carnival, a king of fighters fanfic

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

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This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Let's meet again, just like yesterday – even though back then, we said no words to each other, and wished that [today] would end – we knew that we would love to return to the peace of [today]; in this place – the little coffee shop in [purgatory].

-03.31.06

Chapter 21: Night at the Carnival

"Terry-san!" Tony called out with a brown paper bag in his hands.

Terry Bogard sat on the edge of the pier with a fishing rod. The youngster, Tony looked in the pail next to Terry, apparently, it wasn't Terry's lucky day. There were no bites.

"Hungry Terry-san?" Tony asked.

Despite the long evening and nothing to show for it, the blonde haired man just remained in a trace – and if it wasn't for something to happen – maybe it was just a strange act to pass the time. Terry finally looked back and glared at Tony like a concerned parent would. Terry put his fishing rod down and looked up from his Indian squat sitting position. He crossed his arms and let out a sigh. The effect was ruined, of course, by the growling of Terry's stomach.

"Well... at least your stomach's honest." Tony laughed. Terry accepted one and bit into the hot dog he was offered.

"So, what brings you here?" Terry asked Tony. "You run away from home again?"

"Not really..."

"Does your mother know you went all the way here to New Hong Kong chasing after me again? You almost got in trouble for that the LAST time!"

"Hey, last time was different."

"You know, Tony, you're really a pain in the ass to have around."

Tony smirked and crossed his arms. "Heh! You'd be drunk in the gutter or dead now if I wasn't there to bring you home every night you got plastered!"

Terry shut up abruptly after that, and tried to think fast or he'd be stumped by a kid. "You haven't answered my question! Does your Mother know you're here? Or are you here again to make my life miserable again?" Terry couldn't help but put the last line in jokingly.

"Take it easy Terry, she knows, she knows. Actually, she got stationed overseas, and I had to stay at home. So I told her I'd visit you, so you could keep an eye on me."

"Visit me? Yeah RIGHT!" Terry called. "What do you want kid?"

"Who me?"

"Out with it, kid!" Terry prodded.

"Are you still drinking, Terry-san?" Tony tried to change the subject.

"Are you trying to change the subject, Tony?"

"Oh.. okay.." Tony said all the while staring at his own shuffling feet. "I want to train with you. I want to go to the King of Fighters '94 with you!"

Terry exploded in a fit of laughter. "I don't do fights anymore, kid! I don't drink anymore either." Terry got up and pointed at the dirt marks on his jeans. "You see this kid? I'm just a construction worker now. I don't need to go out and beat up people. We beat Krauser, I don't need to fight anymore right?"

"But TERRY!" Tony pleaded out loud. "You live for fighting. Fighting is your life. Don't tell me you were serious about what you said in Krauser's place that time."

Terry swallowed the last bit of his hot dog whole and put his hands in his pockets. "Why do I fight... I've proved that I'm better than Geese, I have my revenge, and I was able to defend myself against a maniac named Wolfgang Krauser. There's no more reason to fight." Terry said with a queer look and a smile.

"But.. you can't just.. stop.. You're my hero." Tony said.

"You know Tony, you know what fighting gets you... You don't feel it yet.. That's because you're still young, but when you fight like I do, after the fight, there's nothing left. All the hate I had for my enemy is gone, and I don't know what else to do. I don't make cars, I don't teach children, I don't do anything worth a damn." Terry said reassuringly. "But with the job here at the site. I have a family, and they care for me as I do for them. I don't want to taste that bitter feeling that..."

Terry stopped when Tony looked up at him. "Oh..." He said in a sad voice. "Then... I..."

"Tony, why don't you go home. You have nothing to get out of me. I am just some old fighter who's past his prime and in some construction site. Go to school, you'll end up better."

"But I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!" Tony started to cry. "I don't want to do math and do problems that I don't like. I don't want to make cars, or teach kids when I grow up. I want to fight! I want to be like my dad! I want to be like you!"

"Look Tony, you want to be like your dad? You want to end up like your dad? DEAD in the ring and after a few months, forgotten by those fighting magazines, his statistics just random papers in some rusty old filing cabinet? You want to end up..."

{You want to end up like me...? Drunk all the time and always frustrated because...} was what Terry wanted to say {…just fishing for nothing in a cold night because there was nothing else to do…}, but he didn't have the guts to say it. For the next ten minutes Terry poured the lecture attitude down at Tony, telling him how incompetent, irresponsible, wishy-washy, pathetic, intangible, and fruitless his ambitions were. Terry had given up the fight a long time ago, trading it in for a mundane life as a construction worker. Ever since those hard days when he ran away from home, from Andy, he wanted to get it over with. The hate of revenge within burned him at the edges, but secretly he just wanted to put an end to it, so that his father, Jeff Bogard would be put to peace. After he had beat Krauser near death in front of Tony's eyes. Terry wondered to himself those elapsing moments, why he fought that battle, with Geese, with Krauser. It was some sick pride he decided. Terry decided to stop fighting altogether, for Tony's sake and for his own sake, because he couldn't take the pressure anymore. It would make everyone happier. It would make Tony's mother happier, it would make Andy happier, it would make.. Lili.. It would make Lili rest in peace. A simple life, Terry mused. That was what he always wanted.

Terry looked down at Tony, at Tony's teary eyes. "How stupid your ambitions are!" He would say, then Tony looked up, and shouted...

"NO THEY'RE NOT! I'm gonna be the best and then when I do, I'm gonna show YOU!" Tony yelled and held out his fist, full of confidence and without fear, even though he was addressing his idol, champion of the King of Fighters. Tony felt no fear, and Terry's lectures and condescending words only fueled his desire.

For one brief moment, a moment that seemed like an eternity, Terry and Tony's eyes met.

Tony's teary orbs screamed out, and Terry saw for one brief moment, a weak bodied, insolent, lost boy who no one ever believed in. Terry saw himself. And all that time, his conscience knew, but his mind wouldn't accept it. If Terry had one wish, it would be to turn back the hands of time, to start over and if he had a chance, he would go up to his younger self face to face and say to himself... "WHAT YOU'RE DOING IS STUPID! You'll just waste your life... Chasing after a dream that won't be accepted in the real world." Terry chased after his ambitions fueled by his young spirit. No one in the real world cared for a fighter, there are only places for businessmen, engineers, and the like, no room for people like Terry who had views aside from the established. Shunned away by society, labeled a vagrant, only to be understood by friends who had the same ambitions he did. Joe, Mai, Andy, Kim... They didn't treat him like the rest of the snobbish yuppies. Because like Terry, they had the fire inside. 'Guess you can't change fate... Terry saw himself in Tony and his lectures had no effect.

FIGHT . JUST – FIGHT… until there is nothing left. Never give up.

After a while – the prize is meaningless. We do what we do – for our own reason.

"Hey Tony..." Terry said with a cool head now.

Tony didn't say anything and snobbishly looked to the side, the way kids do.

"You want to go to the carnival, Tony? Come on, let's call it square and let's get out of here..."

Tony didn't answer, but Terry was satisfied with the silent answer when Tony followed his lead to the carnival.

...

"Mr. Bogard. There's this gentleman on line 4 that says he needs to speak to you." Sally, Andy Bogard's secretary blurted on the intercom.

"Take a message and tell him I'm out playing golf or something. I don't really feel like talking right now." Andy replied, his hands behind his back, looking outside the window of his office.

"It's about your brother sir.. he insisted..."

"Terry?!" Andy spun and suddenly shouted out, a mix of curiosity and a hint of concern, wrapped in anger.

"Uh.. yes sir..." Sally stammered on the intercom.

"Put him through." Andy said calmly. Andy put his hands on his desk and leaned over to face the telephone, eyeing it like it was his most bitter foe.

"Mr. Bogard. Good afternoon. I trust that you are well?" Came a voice from the speakerphone.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"Names are not important. Have you heard that your brother Terry has declined the invitation to join the King of Fighters '94 tournament.?"

"What are you talking about! He's going to join. WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

"Quite a few people have their best interests at stake on the Italian team, so I think some people are on their way to CONVINCE him." The words warping into a shrill sarcastic sting.

"Italian what?.. What team?!... You keep your hands off him, whoever you are! You've got some nerve talking to me about my brother like that. This is OUR business and none of yours."

"Whatever. Andy Bogard!" The voice said in a sneer. "Oh by the way, do you know that the carnival can be such dangerous places at this time of day?"

"What the fuck are you talking..."

Andy was answered by the flat tone of the phone. Andy closed the line and ran his hand through his hair. Andy mused who in the world it could be on the phone. Gamblers? Informers? The mob probably. First and foremost, Andy was angered by the fact that he might not get a chance to beat Terry, but still there was this inkling feeling of guilt inside of Andy. He wished that he wasn't informed of any of this. It would make everything better, but it was too late now. He took off his jacket and slung it on his office chair. Then he reached for the intercom button on his phone.

"Sally, cancel all appointments for the rest of the afternoon..."

...

"Why do you have all these caps in your duffel bag Terry?" Tony asked Terry while they were walking in the carnival, apparently forgotten already what had happened a while back.

"Oh.." Terry began as he pulled out three red hats from his duffel bag. He pointed to them one by one. "This, with the [Neo Geo] logo on I, is the first sponsor I had, the year after that, their American counterpart gave me this [Fatal Fury] one, I think they were game companies and wanted to use me as a model for advertising and stuff. I think they did this little fighting game about all those tournaments I joined. This one... I just got in the mail [The King of Fighters]. Caps are pretty easy to make and it was a coincidence I wear em, you notice I have to throw the hat up in the air or to the crowd, it's part of the contract. I like this one the best. Terry pointed to the hat he was now wearing, it was a red hat with a metal plate screwed onto it. Some guy.. I think his name was Obari made it for me. Keep lots of those at home, in case I lose em, which I do all the time."

"Eh..." Tony said with a twitching eyebrow... "So you DO have lots of hats, the way you lose em..." A sweatdrop ran down his cheek.

"Hey Terry, LOOK!" Tony called. "Look! Games!." He said as he pointed to the game booth not so far away. "I know you can do it Terry! You're the best."

Terry looked down at Tony and to the booth. They both made their way to it as soon as Terry had finished his cotton candy.

...

The object of the game was simple. Terry was given a paper net for a dollar, and all he had to do was scoop up the fish with it, once the net ripped, that would be the end of the game. Terry had his eyes set on a big plump goldfish, but it eluded him repeatedly. The goldfish was probably rolling over with laughter at Terry's sour face and at the six broken paper nets clipped between his fingers...

Although Terry was the pacifist, one thing he couldn't stand was when he couldn't do something he set himself to do. Terry cringed his teeth and screamed silently. Tony laughed at the tense face, the bulging veins, took it all as a joke.

...

Terry cocked the BB rifle and squinted as hard as he could. 6 Shots. Terry had a choice between 3 sizes of toy soldiers, and ofcourse, Terry chose the smallest and hardest ones. He hit 3 soldiers, all of which were of the biggest size and none of them he never intended to hit in the first place. Tony just grinned, and Terry just forcefully calmed his temper. It was slowly boiling within him.

Terry screwed up again.

"Sorry mister." said the beer bellied old man who was looking after the 'hit the bottle' booth of the carnival. This really wasn't Terry's day. He couldn't hit any bottles, couldn't catch any fish with those paper nets, had no luck with the shooting range or the dunk booth at all. Everything was piling up on Terry, this was definitely not his day.

"Give me another three balls" Terry said as he handed over another dollar.

"Here you go, mac."

Terry took careful aim at the 10 bottles all stacked up in a pyramid. He sent one tennis ball flying, and once again, it missed the target, steering clear and hitting the net behind, a slower second ball only hit the stand where the pyramid was standing on. Terry held his breath and blacked out everything else. The beer bellied man disappeared. The crowd vanished, and soon he could only see the pyramid of bottles...

With all his strength, he threw the tennis ball. He held the ball steady and straight with his mind, his temples bulged as if he were a telepath. Nothing. It raced past and hit the net once again. Terry wouldn't be beaten, so he reached for his pocket to get more change, but there was none left. Tony came up to him.

"Let me try." Tony said. Terry couldn't believe as Tony's first ball cleaved off 4 , then 3 more, then the remaining 3. "OKAY!" Tony cheered as he pointed to the Freddy Krueger clawed glove in the prize shelf. "Lucky!" Tony grinned innocently at Terry.

Terry knew that Tony hid no malice in that smile, but he still didn't feel at ease.

At that moment, Terry felt like the biggest loser in the face of the world. He couldn't do anything right. This annoyed him, angered him somewhat. After all these years, Terry now knew that his biggest enemy was in fact, himself.

This day was just one bad joke, and Terry wasn't laughing at all.

...

"I don't really know what else to do. I'm bored too." Terry said apologetically to Tony who sat across the table from him sipping his root beer float. Tony sat uncomfortably in his seat, and looked at Terry unsure, almost afraid.

"Out with it, Tony, it's okay.. what is it?' Terry said in a kind voice. "I can read you like an open book."

"Uh.. Terry, are you SURE you're not going to join the King of Fighters Tournament?"

"Sigh..." Terry let out with a tired look on his face. "Naw. I think I'm pretty sure, unless there's divine intervention." He said.

...

Terry had lived his entire childhood in the streets, with his brother Andy, until one fateful day they were both adopted by Jeff Bogard, reknowned tournament fighter. Terry could hardly remember any other time greater than that. He never had to think about things like security, food, or a roof over his head. Most of all, he finally knew what it felt like to be loved and to have a family.

That all came tumbling down the day his father was killed. In front of his own eyes, his world crumbled. He could still see his father's face, the pain in his eyes, the cringe of his lips and the scream of pain, it echoed in his mind, making him have nightmares in the daylight.

Another vision, of Geese falling. Then Terry could find peace at last. It was over. There was no more reason to fight. He had reaped the fruits of all those years on the streets. Of all those vagrants who looked down on him and dismissed him as some weak willed kid. He showed them all, and he had repaid his father for giving him memories of childhood, no matter how short they were. They were brief, but sweet.

Would it have been better if he had not run away from home? If not, he wouldn't have lived a harsh childhood. Terry could've just forgotten and forsaken Jeff Bogard. He wouldn't remember those bruises and the insults those 'big boys' threw his way. But if he hadn't, would Terry have grown to be the same man he is now.

All that was behind him now he thought to himself. He felt sort of satisfied with his mundane life, just like it was supposed to be. Nothing special at all. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to see if someone was following him. He didn't have to waste painstaking hours training to defeat some boogeyman in his closet. Hours of angst in those dark alleys were replaced by these easy times. How he longed to live a simple life. How long it was since he could sit down calmly in a carnival without a thought in his mind.

But...

But it was different. He always pictured the whole world full of fun, what he had been denied of. Maybe one day he could meet a nice girl, get married maybe and have a normal life. He thought of Lili, how she died for his sake. Everyone was against him those times, it was himself against all the other ambitious and evil people in the world.

Terry watched the foam froth in his mug of beer. Watched it intently. There were no worries, nothing he had to do. Then Tony came back... to haunt him maybe?

...

He tried to find amusement in those little things, those mundane things like an afternoon at the carnival. Terry couldn't understand how normal people could find happiness and satisfaction in such things. {My god, I think I am going insane} he thought. {I'm rambling...}

"You want some change don't you?" came a voice.

"Eh? Did you say something Tony?" Terry looked up. Tony opened his eyes and looked up from his rootbeer float.

"Huh?" Tony said, genuinely confused. "I didn't say anything."

"Oh.. sorry..." Terry stammered. "I'm going to the bathroom okay."

Terry walked slowly to the bathroom and kept to himself. Bored as a rock. He bent down at the water fountain but before he could take a sip of the water he heard the voice again.

A water fountain.

"You've been blaming yourself all this time for throwing away your childhood haven't you?" Devoted selflessly – to a life of fighting.

Terry turned around and saw a little boy looking up to him.

"Who are you?" Terry asked.

"Do you really think you can live a peaceful life even if it's dictated to you? You don't really want to live such a simple life do you?" the kid said.

"Terry." A girl's voice from behind. "Terry..."

Terry spun around to see an aqua haired lady looking sadly at him.

"Lili?" Terry stammered at the specter.

"It's been so long.. hasn't it?"

"Why?" Terry said slowly.

"Are you happy this way?" Lili said in an otherworldly voice. "Living this way?"

"Isn't it what you wanted? You wanted me to forget everything and live a peaceful life." Terry said.

"I didn't want to see the sadness in your eyes. I was naive back then, didn't see the truth, but now I see your face, it's ten times as lonely and lacking as it was back then. The only reason I sacrificed myself for you was because... was because I didn't want you to lose. I never want you to lose."

'I..." Terry started...

"You're fooling yourself." The child cut in. Terry moved his eyeballs back to look at the boy and when he looked back Lili was gone.

"What do you want? Who are you?" Terry said again to the boy.

"You have nothing to look forward to in this way of life. Always bored and feeling a sense of lacking..."

"Who are you, damn it!" Terry said again.

The boy took off his red cap and looked up. "I am Terry Bogard." Terry eyed his child self and in a flash the kid was gone.

"Terry! TERRY-san!" Tony came running. "There are these guys, and they're harassing this girl.. Hurry!"

...

"Can't you take a hint, you jerk!" a blue haired lady said in defiance to a band of goons wearing suits and ties.

"You got a problem with something, miss?" The one of the four sunglassed 'blues brothers' mocked as he held on to the lady's shoulder.

"I don't really care what the hell your problems are but don't you think four against one girl is really too much?" Terry called out to the troupe, index finger pointed outward so valiantly.

"How cheesy..." Tony mumbled at the side.

"That's him." The lead said, and with that command, the three started to circle around Terry.

"Yes, Mr. Ripper." The came the goons' mumbled replies.

"Terry Bogard, so pleased to meet you." Ripper greeted.

"Who the hell are you?" Terry came back.

"You attending the King of Fighters tournament?"

"That's none of your god damn business!" Terry cursed. The lady took the opportunity and ran from the goons. {Looks like the lady waits for her saviour only in the movies...} Terry thought to himself. "Humph. What a day." Terry said as he was turning around to leave.

"Wait, let me get your autograph." He smiled. Before Terry could realize it, a small gun appeared in Ripper's hand and a quarrel was already in Terry's belly.

"Terry!" Tony screamed.

"Don't worry, we'll just rough you up a bit." Ripper chuckled. "Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Jon! Get 'em boys!"

"Yes sir!" Do and the rest of the troupe answered in chorus.

Terry instinctively had his hands up in guard. He caught Do's punch in his palm, and pulled him in. The world spinned around, then looked downwards from the sky. He dodged another swing from Re, and put his foot behind Re's feet and tripped him. Terry was obviously pulling his punches. A fight was the last thing he didn't want to get into. Terry's gut was on fire, and he could slowly feel the numbing sensation from the drugged quarrel take effect. Terry's mind swooned, made him lose most of his focus. It took him all his remaining composure to keep up with the attacks. Then from the side, Jon came up and rocked Terry's chin with an upper. Terry wobbled to the side, and when his vision failed him, the blurry sight worse than the visibility in San Francisco, his instincts went on auto mode. A familiar feeling. A sweet perverse feeling that made the side of Terry's mouth curl just a little. Terry felt alive once again. Jon came again, laughing loudly at the sluggish Terry. Jon turned around and cocked back as far as he could then threw his punch, laughing all the way. Jon could only gawk in stupor when those tattered black leather gloves came up, the back of Terry's hand slid along the back of Jon's wrist. The blocking hand flew gracefully in the air, slapping away Jon's straight. Terry called out when he could faintly see the sorry expression in Jon's face. And when he saw the whites of his eyes. Terry spun around, and his right elbow was leading the way, diving deep into Jon's collar. Jon gurgled and before he could realize that Terry had scored a hit, Terry finished his backhand, the school of knuckles connecting with Jon's cheek, making Jon tumble and roll to the side.

The ecstasy suddenly left Terry. This was what he had tried to avoid for years - indiscriminate fights. Terry put up his guard again, and only blocked and dodged the following attacks, not wanting to hurt anyone anymore. He thought of the thug he had just downed, and it made him so guilty and dirty inside.

Suddenly three other guys appeared from the background, one of them put his arms under Terry's armpit and locked him in a full nelson, two others each grabbed on to each of Terry's arms. Terry could feel the drug numbing his body. It wasn't particularly potent, he was still awake after all, but he felt like throwing up badly. Terry was getting wobbly, but he caught his bearings once again when he felt a sharp feeling in his gut. A set of brass knuckles dove into his belly and made him spit out. Each of the other goons were taking turns beating him up, all the while Ripper was having a nice laugh.

"You bitches!" Tony suddenly jumped into the open. "You can't take Terry on so you drug him and have six guys beat up on him!"

"Oh YOU!" Ripper laughed. "I didn't know YOU'D be giving us any trouble."

"Shut up you yellow livered bitch!" Tony roared as he raced towards Ripper. Ripper sidestepped Tony's punch, and slapped him, which made Tony madder. The boy flailed wildly but to no avail. With a sneer, Ripper punched him squarely on the cheek, and Tony stumbled back.

"You're a tough little shit, you know that, kid. You haven't changed one bit." Ripper mocked.

"T.. Tony!" Terry stammered between the punches he took.

Hopper attacked viciously sending a right to Tony's belly then followed with a dropping left right across his face and finished with a right hook to Tony's cheek once again. Tony stood there, with his eyes closed, hardly moving.

"Shit, you faint on me kid?" Ripper said.

Tony wobbled and started to fall. Hopper put his fists to his side and snickered, but to his surprise, Tony braced his hands on his knees and looked up. The used up what strength he had left and punched Ripper in the groin. Ripper cringed and started to wobble.

"You LITTLE SHIT!" He screeched, and with that Rippers final kick sent Tony flying.

"You bastard..." Terry grumbled. Terry tensed his arms and in a mad rush, loosened the grip of the two goons holding his arms. He then focused all his attention to the man who locked his shoulders behind him. He reached for the goon's face and put his thumbs under his opponent's eyeballs and squeezed. The man screamed and let go. Terry gave him an elbow and twirled to assess the situation. Two goons came rushing in, one got him in the gut while the other punched his face again. Terry's field of view was still blurry, and it took him all his concentration to stay awake. He grabbed onto one of the goons who attacked and threw him to the man behind him who he had just elbowed. A crowd started to form around the fight, there were mothers telling their children to hurry up and leave while teenagers screamed and cheered. There was another punch and Terry barely caught sight of it. He crossed his arms over his chest and caught the blow. Terry kicked low as hard as he could and with a crash, the goon came toppling to the ground clutching his shin.

"COME ON FIGHT! GET EM! KICK THEIR ASS! GO GO!" the crowed roared at Terry who was obviously pulling his punches. The fight continued for another 7 minutes, the goons easily pummeling the drugged Terry. A suited man came up to Terry with a lead pipe and sent it hacking down to his shoulder. Terry couldn't move away and fell to the floor clutching his collar.

"Finish him off." Ripper commanded.

The goon lifted the pipe in the air and grinned. His glee was stolen from him when a figure suddenly appeared in front of him.

The chemicals turning his stomach inside out. Blurry…

{a world like any other – we lived in it.} Could we live alone. Responsible for all the actions we dictate... Terry mused.

A HORRIBLE world. Unlike any other.

…because – we are strong. We support each other. A future that holds a vision – saving it, peacefully – just for us. I WILL FIGHT YOU. Because – I . AM . THE . GREATEST.

...

"You." A red masked fighter roared in front of his face. Before Re could retaliate, he felt a fist in his gut so the goon bent over. Another upper came and the goon stood back up after the shock to his jaw. The masked rescuer then sent a hard chop to the side of his neck, and that was the last Re saw of daylight.

"Who the fuck are you!?" Ripper yelled to Terry's rescuer. "Red...?"

The ninja wore a mask, a red mask. It was a mask of a demon's face. it's mouth was curled in a wicked smile, and horns protruded from its forehead. Adding the sinister look of its face painted with white streaks, full of make up. He wore a black shirt under a white sportscoat, and had white jeans as well. There were no more words, and the remaining five thugs darted towards the new opponent. The red mask ran to meet them, with his fist leading. He tagged one, and twirled ramming his open palm into the unfortunate victim's nose. There was a swing, the ninja put his hand up to block. The punch slipped over it, and quicker than anyone could see, his blocking hand twirled and went under the goon's armpit, and with a roar, the goon was sent flying. Without any mercy, Red jumped up in pursuit of the thug he had just thrown, stepping on his gut, winning a gurgling call. The Red mask stood his ground and waited for the next two to get within range, then let his foot swing full circle. The ninja's foot felt like a baseball bat when it hit the two on the side of the head. The goons decided to regroup and surround their new opponent. The ninja sent his arms wide and they started to glow.

The tension was broken when sirens were heard. Ripper yelled for his men to make a break for it, and the red masked ninja disappeared as well. The boys in blue came in with their shouts and curses. They broke the crowd and quickly put handcuffs on Terry and dragged him to the patrol car.

At the side Tony clutched onto his side and tried to stagger.

...

A few minutes after the patrol cars left, Andy Bogard sipped his cup of espresso by the side of the Ferris wheel. He ran his fingers to comb his hair and straightened his white jacket.

"Onisan... (Big brother) Kono BAKA! (what an idiot.)" Andy spat out. He dug his hands into the back of his pants and threw a red demon mask into the garbage can.

...