The real meat starts here. This is why I'm writing this Buy-in in the first place, to hype up a Southtown arc that's been rooted since the beginning of Kumite 2. All-out war is coming, and it starts with the return of a special boy. I once claimed I would never include him in these fics; those were my young, naïve days. That's far over with.

Before we go any further, a few things. First of all, I had to cut this chapter short because the word count was getting too veiny. I know I promised you guys fights, fights, and more fights, but this may end up being the tamest chapter of the fic as a result of truncation. The next chapter will just be EXTRA violent now lol.

Lastly, I want to give a shoutout to some peeps: RobertCop, illyrilex, WriterPerson, RinoaDestiny. These guys help me out SO much, with motivation and brainstorming. I workshop with them frequently and honestly couldn't make it without them. So show some appreciation by checking out their fics; they're all excellent writers. They're my favorites on the whole website. If you're reading this, thanks guys!

That about does it. Let the civil war begin.

Southtown, 2015.

In the typical bustle of vehicles and bodies passing by, a single boy appeared, his features more attractive and distinguished than the average streetwalker. Clad in black underclothes, a bright red and white jacket contrasted his dark colors, as if he walked a middle line. His hair, blonde. His eyes a terrifying red, but with no menace in them... he appeared gentle, but possessed an inner tenacity that dared not be unleashed. Handsome, but deadly... like a wolf.

He was Rock Howard, 18, but with a wealth of maturity for his young age. A boy who renounced his own bloodline, and instead found warmth and solace in the one who would be their "sworn enemy". After a journey on his own, to seek new knowledge and inner peace, he now stood back here...where he belonged. With eyes closed and a deep breath, he took in the familiar air, and exhaled.

"Heya Southtown. It's been awhile."

He spoke these optimistic, innocent words, as he ventured back into his home... unbeknownst of the changes that had occurred. A world that he'd soon barely recognize.

He knew exactly where he wanted to go first, so his first goal was to flag down a cab. He didn't mind taking extra time though, to take in the sights and the people. Southtown was as busy as ever: businesses, restaurants, suits and casuals and even swimsuits strolling up and down the streets. They had all kinds here. After all, this place was the beating heart: the birthplace of the mighty King of Fighters, the greatest sporting event in history. This place would always hold that commercial significance; that made it one of the most popular cities in all of America.

As Rock waited for a taxi to materialize, he took time to pay attention to all the people passing by. There was something... off about them. Everyone looked normal enough, but there was this dreary vibe about them... like they were miserable or something. There were some happy faces, some laughs, but overall, there was a general vibe of dreariness along the citizens here.

There were also many more shady-looking types here... for every bright-dressed group or couple that walked through there, there were a few sinister-looking ones. Sunglasses. Suits. Sneers. Everywhere he looked, small pocket of them occupied areas of the town, just hanging, scoping out... looking for marks?

Something was definitely going on in Southtown. It wasn't just the anxiety of an upcoming King of Fighters.

His keen observations finally paid off: he spotted a yellow car, fast approaching!

"TAXI!"

He did the deed and flagged it down, and the car slowed to a halt, allowing him inside. He slumped into the seat with a huge sigh, his muscles relaxing for the first time since a long journey from the airport.

"Where we headed?"

"Um, 23 Flotsam."

"Gotcha."

Rock settled in, and the car got moving, as he pressed his head against the glass and continued his observations where he left off. It was a lot more relaxing now, and it allowed him to really pay attention... there were so many disreputable-looking guys around. It seemed like every tenth person had the appearance of ill-will. Surely they didn't belong to...?

As they passed by businesses and buildings, Rock squinted his eyes and focused on the alleys, the back areas... that's when his suspicions started to really be confirmed. As they passed by a laundromat, he peered out of the corner of his eye what appeared to be two men ambushing a third guy against a concrete wall. One was holding him, while the other rained fists into the poor guy's stomach. What did he do to deserve that?

Rock noticed another area, where a trembling woman was cornered, and two grinning men had their arms draped across either side of her, preventing escape. The car drove by too quickly, and Rock could only shudder in wonder at what the conclusion of that would be.

His sharp study of the state of affairs was finally broken by the voice of the driver himself.

"You from around here, kid?"

Rock didn't pick himself up, expecting a brief exchange. "Yes sir, I am. I just don't stick around often. Southtown is...iffy for me."

This caused a gruff laugh from the driver. "Ha! 'Iffy' he says... only a fool would try to put down roots in Southtown these days. City's gone to the wolves. And not the famous ones...I mean things are crappier than ever."

That was enough to change his pressed position against the glass, and bring him upright to attention. He leaned over.

"I've been away for a while, so you'll have to elaborate."

The driver continued. "Take a look around you kid: do the people look happy? Ain't a smiling face to be had since the regime change around here."

"Regime...?" Rock repeated softly.

"Without Geese here to keep a leash on things, it's all fell apart. That cowardly bootlicker jumped in, and he's running things into the ground."

Wait... he was gone?! When did THIS happen? Rock intentionally kept himself from keeping up with news updates, in a desire to shed himself from Southtown's affairs for a while... it would seem things had changed more than he could have possibly imagined in that time.

"That Big...he knows the basic playbook of how to be an underworld boss, but he always lacked several important things. Discipline, maturity...a sense of responsibility for the lesser men, to name a few. He ain't looking out for us; he just throws his wealth around and treats Southtown like his own personal playground. The goons he's hired... buncha foreign faces, who don't have to know or care about the place they're ravaging. They harass civilians, take advantage of small businesses...you can't even buy a hamburger without worrying about getting mugged as soon as you round a corner. And god knows what they do to the women."

This was enough to make him slump backwards, head against the seat. "Jesus... I had no idea. But what about my da- I mean...the fighters? Don't they fight back?"

A grunt. "They're a brave bunch, and they do their best...but what chance do they have against an army? They can't be everywhere at once. And they have to consider the safety of their own loved ones; can't afford to be white-knighting every civvie they come across."

So things really WERE bad here. He'd sensed it, as soon as he strolled into town: the dreariness on the faces, the influx of shady-looking individuals, a general vibe of malaise in the air... how was all this allowed to happen? Had they dropped the ball this hard? Had he?

"No, these are dark days for us." the driver concluded. "The way I see it...only one thing can bring us back."

He couldn't have meant that. Was THAT really the solution they needed? It made Rock nauseous just thinking about it.

After they arrived and he paid the guy off, Rock was left with a whole lot to think about. It was far from the happy reunion he was expecting; the boy had returned home, and found that home was on the verge of falling to decadence. The man who was once "king" was nowhere to be found, some poorly-qualified replacement had took his place, and now allowed crime to run free and rampant. It felt like a bad news story, in real life.

At that moment, he was more desperate than ever to find the people he cared about. He wanted to see his family, pronto.

He made great haste to the apartment complex, and started hunting down the right one. 103... 104... 105... he hoped she still lived in the same one. He had no way of knowing; what if EVERYTHING had changed, in the few years he'd been away? What if none of them even lived here anymore? The thought of having nobody here terrified him, especially now; he wanted to see them, to touch them, to know they were okay.

There. 112.

He knocked. It was a delayed response, which made him nervous, given the talk he'd just had... what if they really weren't here? What if they were the first to try and fight back, and were run off? What if they were-

The doorknob rattled. A huge exhale.

The door opened, and he was never happier in his life to see a slender, short blonde-haired woman with beautiful blue eyes stand before him, dressed down in gray shorts and a small white tank top...by the time she registered who was standing in front of her, her facial expression changed drastically, and her words barely came out.

"R-ROCKY! Oh my- lemme put on- I'm not dec- I wasn't expect-"

She finally took a short breath, and got a whole sentence out. "Gimme a minute!"

The door shut, and Rock was left there with his relief. He smiled; still the same pretty lady that could break his arm if those blue eyes were ever angered. He was grateful to any god he could think of to see her right now. It put him at tremendous ease, when he had gotten nothing but bad news up to this point.

The door reopened and out stepped Mary, now reinforced with a cotton robe. She immediately threw herself around Rock and pulled him deep into her, cradling him as if to make up for years of absence. The boy naturally turned tomato red, and his face ignited, but he understood the tenderness.

She finally granted him mercy and pulled away, but couldn't help but keep touching him. Straightening his hair, his jacket...as if she was still trying to register he was physically there, in front of her.

"Oh my god Rocky...it's really you. Its really...I missed you."

"How you been, Mary?" he couldn't stop smiling.

She wiped her face a few times. Was she...? "I'm making it. But how are you?! Where you been? Tell me everything!"

"I will, I will. I'll tell you the whole story. Where's Dad?"

At that, she looked up at the ceiling, sighing. "Oh he's out and about. At least he's still motivated to leave the house...I can't trust myself in public lately."

That segued him into the inevitable talk they had to have. "The cab driver...he told me things. He said...he said-"

"Yeah, and it's the awful, shitty truth." Mary cut in, no need for him to finish. "This is what we're living in now. All those times we brushed that bald bastard off, treated him like a joke... boy, did he get the last laugh."

"There's gotta be something we can do!" Rock declared, with a fist. "We can't just sit by and, and let him..."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "But fighting back is just as dangerous, Rocky. What if he retaliates against people close to us? Or hurts innocent civilians to put the guilt on us? Face it... we're in a real bind. He's got us in a deadlock, and the next move isn't so easy to just decide and do. It's not as simple as just clobbering him, and believe me, I wish it was."

His valiant fist lowered. There was truth in her words; cruddy truth, but truth nonetheless. He had to think bigger than a fighter: think about all the pieces involved, and the risks.

"This sucks..."

She rubbed gently, where her hand lay. "Yeah, it does. But look, Rocky... you're a smart kid. You know what's right and what's not. Listen to your heart...and let it guide you on what to do."

"My heart's telling me to fight." he spoke lowly.

"Then understand the consequences of what might happen if you do." she nearly whispered, bringing herself in the rest of the way to press her head against his. They held that tender moment for a few seconds, before Rock finally broke away, and went back for the door.

"I'm going to find Dad."

"Be safe out there."

Anger flooded every pore, enough that he was lucky to find a fallen soda can to kick, and exert some of the pent-up aggression threatening to boil over. It might've saved him from unleashing his fists on the next human that dared cross his path.

To come back to his home, and see this...it was too much. His people, oppressed and mistreated, when they carried the pride of fighting inside them, yet were forced to hesitate...it was confusing, and only served to enrage him more.

"Bun length. The works."

His lamentation was interrupted when he glanced at the nearest food stand, and saw a truly unique individual among the rabble of bodies: where normal sized folks passed by, a huge, rotund mass of a man dressed in all denim stood before a vendor, his torso hanging in the breeze, as the blue vest he wore had no chance of being closed over his large belly. A large mass of unkempt brown hair was only held in check by a blue headband. The only sight of normalcy here, were the two unknown men that flanked him from behind. One was dressed a bit nicer, with a blue polo shirt and khakis, while the other had a more street-like attire, with baggy black pants and a green tanktop. They both looked mean, and ready to assault anyone who tried to interrupt their food acquisition.

Rock recognized the big one as Jack Turner, a known troublemaker in Southtown...at least back in the day, as one of Big's most loyal soldiers. He wasn't one to judge from a glance, but why did Jack need bodyguards to order a hotdog? Something wasn't right...

He observed a little longer, and by the time it was made, Jack revealed his true colors, and confirmed Rock's suspicions.

"Don't suppose you're gonna actually pay me this time, Jack?" The vendor sarcastically asked, holding out his hand.

Jack frowned, eyeing him, then looked down at his hand. A smile crept on his lips.

"Ptoo!" The giant man spit, launching a pink, solid glob into the vendor's hand, then turned around to walk away, laughing.

"Keep the change!" He continued to laugh, his men joining behind him, also joining.

This was the dilemma, right here. Logically, he should take Mary's advice, and let sleeping dogs lie...but she also told him to listen to his heart, and do what HE felt was right.

The only problem with that: he was young and impulsive.

"HEY FATSO!"

Three figures stopped, and slowly turned, Jack in the lead, dog midway in mouth. He finished chewing quickly, and swallowed.

"You better not be talkin' to me."

Rock boldly stepped forward. "Why don't you pay, like everyone else!"

Jack looked at his men, face cracking up like he'd just seen a funny bit in a comedy. He faced forward. "I eat for free, kid...you must not know how things work around here. But it's okay, I'll make you a deal: gimme a humble apology, and MEAN it, and I won't won't punch you so hard you lose your lunch."

Now it was Rock's turn to crack up. He scanned the rotund man: surely he was powerful, but he was probably so slow Rock could see his punch coming from a year away. It made him feel courageous, if not cocky.

"You're the one who needs to apologize. Give the man what you owe, and maybe I'll go easy on YOU, wide load."

Jack had heard enough. He quickly downed the rest of his food, throwing the wrapper on the ground. He cracked his knuckles, then slowly approached, the smile growing wider, as his stature towered higher.

"Tell ya what...if you can bring me down, I'll pay for every hotdog I ever stole from this lousy stand."

This was it, then: he had to fight. He knew Mary would be disappointed, but some things just couldn't be avoided. Maybe this wasn't the right thing to do, or maybe this needed to happen...but regardless, Rock knew he was more than good enough to teach this overgrown glutton a lesson.

"You're on." Rock declared, getting into fighting stance, his eyes fixated on his opponent.

Jack merely gave a small nod to his two men, and they separated, each going an opposite direction, leaving the two of them standing face to face."

"Don't say I didn't give you a chance, kid."

Rock's body began to glow purple as his chi manifested, strengthening his blows, giving him the power to conquer an opponent twice his size. He wasn't afraid...he could do this. He'd fought much better men.

"You're the one who-?!"

He never saw them coming; before Rock could finish his threat, his arms suddenly splayed out at his sides, against his will, holding him in place. It became clear what had happened.

"HEY! NGHH! HEY!"

He could have overpowered them eventually...but a few precious seconds were all they had needed. The next thing Rock felt was a gargantuan force crash into his stomach, as Jack made good on his word; a glowing orange fist of terrible power collided so hard, his intestines felt like they'd shoot out of his nostrils.

"GGHHHKKKKKKkkkkkkkk!"

The henchmen released his arms, and he crumpled to the ground in a pained heap, unable to even utter a noise from his lungs. Three clacking pairs of feet hovered around him, and Rock could only hear laughter, and a voice:

"Heh...I love teaching people how things work here."

Those were the last words spoken as the three walked away, leaving him wallowing in agony...and shame. Even against unfair odds, to be that sloppy...that's what hurt most.

The hotdog vendor, having cleaned Jack's discarded gum off his hands, circled around to where the boy lay crumpled. He knelt down to a knee, placing a hand on the fallen fighter. "You okay, kid?"

It took several deep, labored breaths, before Rock was able to finally move from his shelled position, and at least sit upright. "Yeah... pride more wounded than anything."

"I appreciate you standing up for me, but you shouldn't have. If you're lucky, they'll forget who you are. If you're unlucky..."

A few more grunts, and a longer groan, before Rock struggled to his feet. "I'm sure I'm the latter. There'll be other times...im sure."

The vendor rose up as well, confident that the boy could walk on his own. "Just don't go getting yourself killed. They'll rough you up, but if you push them far enough... uh, can I offer you anything for the road?"

Rock smiled, shaking his head. "No thank you. You've lost enough as is. There is one thing you could help me with though: do you know where I can find the professional fighters that live here?"

The vendor immediately nodded, hand on his chin. "Ahh yes... normally they'd be at Pao Pao, but that place is off-limits now. Big's Crew took it over. Now they don't let anyone in but their own kind."

Rock's heart sank into the gut that had just been pounded: Pao Pao Café was taken over?! The number one place, the HUB where fighters of all kinds had gathered in fellowship?

"You might try Illusion; I've seen Bogard and his friends go there frequently nowadays. For some reason, Big and his men never touch the place... maybe cuz the owner used to be one of his guys. I dunno."

Rock nodded politely. "That's all I need. Thanks for your help."

"Thanks for yours! Stay out of trouble now!"

Rock had his destination, but it was still hard to wrap his head around the fact that Pao Pao had been corrupted. Was Richard going along with this? Bob? He had to go over there himself, and see it with his own eyes. It was a short jog over there; everyone knew where it was. He got there in no time, and when he saw the parking lot looking so vacant, that same sinking feeling came back...

Besides the bouncer- a large, bald, bearded man, who oddly wielded a giant iron ball- there was nobody else foolish enough to loiter around. Nobody reputable, that is; occasionally, suits and casuals would trickle in and out, but they all looked incredibly unsavory, no doubt all individual pieces of the criminal network that had taken over Southtown.

Some more extraordinary characters would also appear, ones that made Rock do a double take: there was a punk-looking man with a large red mohawk, a red jacket, and blue slacks... but his HANDS were a terror to behold, as they were adorned with razor-sharp killing claws. How did he hold a drink with those?! Behind him, two meatheads followed: one in blue wrestling spandex, and one fatter guy with an obnoxious red mask.

Some of the other persons of interest included a long, lanky boxer type, a green-clad military-looking man with aviator sunglasses, a huge bald man in pink, similar to the bouncer's size, but wielding a different chained weapon, a tiny, miniscule speck of a man, with sunglasses and a hat and a striped shirt... what's with these people and razor claws?!

Oh, and there was Jack Turner. The same asshole who'd just made a fool of him.

Rock felt the fury of his fighting prowess burn inside him; he wanted to march in there right now, and demolish every last sorry one of them... but he knew even he had his limits, and it would break several hearts to see him throw his young life away so foolishly. It was frustrating... so frustrating, to stand here and see this, and have no power to stop it. This freakshow had waltzed into his town, and was ruining everything he holds dear.

He just had to tell himself: there would be a time and place. He had to be smart. He had to rally the fighters. He needed his dad.

ILLUSION

While Pao Pao Café was now firmly under Mr. Big's grip, the drinks were still flowing for any and all at Illusion Bar, just a few blocks down the street from the famed entertainment venue. Not many understood why, but Big seemed to have an allergic reaction to the bar- owned by a certain kickboxer - and his influence had stayed away from it. For the time being.

"Take this to em, Sally."

"Which table?"

"You know which table."

"Just joking."

With a full tray of beverages in hand, one of King's top staff members, Sally, strolled over to the most popular table in the establishment: housed by Southtown's finest, the ones who stood up for them, and fought for justice every year. They were the Kings of Fighters. But now... it seemed those kings had fallen.

"Here, fellas." Sally smiled, as she set the tray down in the center. "Made with extra love, from King."

The Alluring Kunoichi Mai Shiranui immediately reached for hers, then spun around from her position in her lover Andy's lap, raising it to the sky. "THANKS KINGYYYYYYYYYYYYY! WE LOVE YOU TOO!"

From behind the bar, the suave bartender gave a small grin and raised her washcloth in salute.

Back at the main table, the group seemed in high spirits... but it was a desperate façade, if anything, to hide the bitter pain they all held inside, which was only temporarily quenched by excessive alcohol. This day was no different, and even now, with King's mixing expertise, their lamentations still leaked out.

"I just don't know how much longer we can keep going like this, guys." Yuri Sakazaki bellyached between sips her cosmopolitan. "It's really only thanks to Robbie that we've been able to stay afloat as long as we have. We can barely pay our staff."

"If I could, I'd empty our life savings into it, babe. You know that." her boyfriend Robert Garcia tried to reassure, placing his hand atop hers. She leaned her head over onto his arm.

"We're doing the best we can to help out, girl." Mai also attempted to console. "We eat there practically every day. I just wish you'd hire us. Me and Andy could scrub dishes, right my darling Andykins~?"

Andy blushed, as she was moving around in his lap with such a sultry tone. "W-well, uhhhh I d-don't see why n-"

"I can't pay you guys, though!" Yuri cried. "That's the problem."

"We'll work for free!"

"I'm pretty sure there's labor laws against that." Andy chimed in with that unhelpful answer, which earned him an elbow from his girlfriend.

"What you guys do is more than enough, and we appreciate it." Robert thanked. "More than you'll ever know."

"Well we're all Southtowners, one in the same." Mai vowed, raising her glass. "That's why me and Andy aren't taking anymore vacations to Japan until this is over. We're staying right here and we WILL get through this... Big's gonna get what's coming to him, someway, somehow."

"And I wanna be there to deliver the last kick when it happens." Robert declared, ironically balling his fist when he said that. To that, they all drank.

Andy looked over at a certain other blonde hunk, who was silent throughout all this. "Bro? You sure are quiet."

The legendary Lone Wolf stared down at his empty glass, which had become a melting stack of ice, losing height with each passing minute. "I just...feel so helpless. It's not a problem that can be solved with good ol' fashioned fisticuffs, and when things are like that, I'm just...lost."

"It's hard when we swear by fighting, and fighting's not the easy answer." Andy reinforced his brother's sentiment.

"Yeah... I'm not good for much else besides that."

With that grim statement, the great Terry Bogard, hero of Southtown, stood up from the table, yet never looked lower. He reached into his pocket and drew a stack of bills, slapping them on the table before pocketing his hands and walking away.

"There. That covers mine."

"Where you going, Ter?!" Mai whined. "We were just getting started!"

"You guys go on without me." Terry managed the smallest, weakest of smiles. "I gotta go check on Mary anyway. I feel bad being out without her."

"She doesn't have to be scared just cuz she popped that guy's kneecap!" Mai called out. "We'll totally protect her!"

"Oh, she'd hate to hear that. Bye guys."

With a tiny wave, Terry turned his back and made his way towards the exit, prompting the head bartender to call out to him.

"Leaving so soon, Wolf?"

Terry spun around and flashed a wink. "Don't overserve em, King."

The odd man out, Terry no longer had any desire to drown his sorrows in drink. He'd been there enough, growing up without a father, surviving day to day with the power of his hands. Nowadays, he preferred the serenity of a simple walk through the town that raised him, to take in the beauty of it all...even if it now housed some things that were ugly to behold.

"Huh... what...?!"

He had to rub his eyes, to make sure he wasn't seeing an illusion. He had drank, but not THAT much. No, he was very much lucid...and he was seeing the boy he had missed so dearly.

"Oh my...ROCK! ROCKY!"

Terry couldn't help it; sappy as it was, he broke out into a light jog to meet him- the missing piece of him- as the boy walked hastily his way. If it were a movie, Terry was sure some cheesy, triumphant music would be playing to signify their grand reunion.

He didn't care. His son was back.

They met in the middle, with nearly a crash, as the father's superior size has closed in with a bit too much excitement. Rock, nonetheless, was able to stay upright, and he met his dad's crushing embrace with a hug of his own.

"Rock! It's you! Oh my god, it's really you!"

"Hey, Dad." his voice came through muffled, as he was being smothered by the Wolf's large frame. He didn't want to ruin his dad's moment, but he could have sworn he was starting to get lightheaded... thankfully, Terry was aware enough to not accidentally suffocate his son, and he broke away, instead taking in the sight of him, from golden hair, to stylish red and white jacket, to athletic shoes. He was every bit like Terry remembered... and he was perfect.

He could only smile. "My son... my boy's back."

Rock rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Yes, Dad, I'm back. I missed you." Just to show goodwill, he closed in for another hug. Terry again had to fight the urge not to squeeze the breath out of the boy he hadn't held for so long.

"Oh Rocky. I wanted to see you again so badly... but..."

Rock needed no explanation about the "but". Not bothering to make his dad elaborate, Rock instead jumped straight into the hard questions. "Dad, what the heck is going on in Southtown?! Everywhere I go, I see strange faces. People taking stuff without paying, harassing women, disrupting businesses... and you can't even go into Pao Pao! Something is SERIOUSLY messed up-"

Terry silenced him, with a hand on his head, his fingers gently ruffling the golden locks. "Things are rough here, son. They are. And I'm... god, I'm so sorry that you have to come back into this."

"I've talked to Mary, and a few others." Rock stated. "How could you guys let some washed up old kingpin rise to power? Why didn't you fight back?! You're just gonna let scum like Jack Turner strut around and-" He had to quickly swallow his words... for multiple reasons, he didn't want to let his father know he'd just gotten bodied by the gargantuan goon.

"Oh Rocky..." Terry sighed, as his fingers intensified on the boy's hair. "It's not that simple, and you know it. Mr. Big's not the most powerful man in the world... but he has one thing, and that's charisma. Last year, he came into some money, and he was able to sweet talk a huge band of ruffians into helping him seize control of the city. If we just declare open war on him in the street, we'll lose, and a lot of innocent people will be hurt to boot. You gotta stop thinking like a young hothead, and start thinking like a man who's been blessed with power, and burdened with responsibility."

"Yeah yeah, great power great- I know." Rock sighed, a long, defeated sigh. He knew Terry was right; Mary had told him almost the exact same thing. The cab driver as well. They were mature enough to understand that the problem couldn't be solved so easily... yet, here he was, wanting to kick down their door and beat them into submission. To know that wasn't possible... frustrated him to no end.

To snap him from his thoughts, Terry finally took his hand off and instead nudged him. "Cmon, let's go grab a soda. My treat. Let's get some normal."

Rock typically would see through such a cheesy tactic... but normal sounded like heaven right now. Normal was enough to put a smile on his face.

"Right behind you."

The two walked together, as father and son reunited, on the streets of their sacred home, hopeful that one day they would deliver it from the evil that plagued them. Above anyone else... it was THEIR duty.

Again, I had to cut the chapter short because the word count was getting a little high for my comfort. I'm not planning on drowning you guys in 8000-word monsters just yet; that'll come later I'm sure lol.

NEXT CHAPTER: Dinner at Kyokugen BBQ takes an interesting turn, and paints a clear picture of the civil war currently brewing in the corrupted streets of Southtown. How can our heroes keep their spirits high when Mr. Big's oppression breaks them down? FIND OUT NEXT TIME!