JohnnyChany

So many sharks. Glad to see you are bringing them all in.

THE QUEEN OF FIGHTERS: A GANGLAND SIDE STORY PART 3 CONTINUED FROM ASKA VS. SHADOW YAMOTO The arena's roar barely registered with Vice. She descended from the VIP level and crossed the crowded floor. She considered every person in her path an inconvenience. Whistles and catcalls followed her. Vice ignored them, though each one fed the quiet violence simmering behind her eyes. She hated crowds. She hated being touched. Most of all, she hated the assumption that because she was walking through a room full of people, they had some right to her attention. The thought of tearing a few of them apart did almost make her smile. She finally reached Sofia. “Come with me.” Sofia looked up at her, then glanced deliberately toward the arena. “No, thanks. I'm good where I am. Miss Skinner was kind enough to provide the tickets. I've got a pretty good view from here.” Vice's expression didn't change. “This isn't about your seat. And it wasn't a suggestion.” Sofia's amusement faded. “You brought something with you tonight,” continued Vice. “You need to pick it up.” The meaning landed immediately. A chill traveled down Sofia's spine. “Ivan,” she said softly. “Where is he?” “Follow me.” There was something in Vice's voice that told Sofia arguing would accomplish nothing. She rose from her seat and followed. Vice led her through the crowd and toward a nondescript door along the arena wall. The noise of the spectators faded almost immediately once they stepped through it. They entered a narrow corridor lit by harsh overhead lamps. Vice stopped at a reinforced security door and knocked twice. The door opened. Three members of Roulette's security detail emerged, dragging a limp body between them. They dropped Ivan at Sofia's feet. “Ivan!” Sofia immediately knelt beside him. His face was swollen, his clothes were disheveled, and one side of his face was covered in bruises. “Ivan, can you hear me?” “He's unconscious,” Vice said. “But regrettably, he's very much alive.” Sofia looked up sharply. “Who did this to him?” “I did.” “Why?” “He threatened a member of Mr. Bernstein's staff.” Sofia surged to her feet. “You monster, I..” Three guns pointed in her direction immediately stopped her. The guards stood firmly between Sofia and Vice. Vice, herself, did not react. “You're lucky your goons are here to protect you,” Sofia growled. Vice laughed softly. “I assure you, they're here for your protection, not mine.” Sofia glanced at the three guards. Then at Ivan. Then back at Vice. “Why did you bring me here?” “To make a proposition.” Sofia glared at her. “Are you serious?” “It's obvious you're not here simply to watch the fights. You want to know what's happening in this arena.” Vice stepped closer. “Roulette has an opening in her tournament. You can fill it and really find out for yourself.” “Me?” “You and whatever Soviet allies you can gather. Three fighters. One team.” “You are serious.” “I don't make a habit of wasting my time.” Vice's eyes briefly turned toward Ivan. “You want access to this operation? You want to see what we're really doing here? Earn it.” Sofia understood the trap immediately. “You want to see what Balalaika has brought into Gangland.” “Me personally, no, I could care less. But Rugal gets to see how strong the Soviet Syndicate really is. You get to investigate our operation from the inside. And if your team survives long enough, you might even earn a shot at me.” Sofia looked toward the arena. She could still hear the crowd through the walls. Thousands of people cheering for blood, money, and spectacle. This wasn't what Balalaika had sent her here to do. But it might be the opportunity she needed. Vice stepped past her. “All of this assuming your team isn't wiped out in the first round, of course.” Sofia turned. “You're going to regret this.” Vice stopped. “Does that mean you intend to fight?” Sofia hesitated. She should have consulted Balalaika. That was the smart thing to do. But standing in a dark corridor beside an unconscious Ivan with three guns pointed in her general direction, Sofia didn't feel like she had been given many smart options. “Yeah.” She looked Vice directly in the eyes. “We'll fight.” Vice's expression became unreadable. “Very well. I'll inform Roulette.” She gestured toward Ivan. “Security will carry your idiotic friend to the exit. After that, he's your problem.” Sofia looked down at him. “Can we borrow one of the mystics? Just long enough to heal him enough to make the trip back?” Vice laughed. “Even if I wanted to grant such a ridiculous request, the mystics are here for tournament participants only. Not spectators, not guests, not friends, not irritating imbeciles trying to intimidate the staff.” Vice walked back toward the arena without another word. The three guards lifted Ivan between them and followed Sofia as she was escorted toward the exit. Back inside the arena, Aska and Shadow Yamoto moved across the mat in a blur of kicks, feints, and counterstrikes. Every exchange was answered in kind. Aska fought with youthful explosiveness, her movements loose and unpredictable; Shadow was the opposite, she was disciplined, and unnervingly prepared. She seemed to have a weapon and strategy for every problem Aska presented. Shadow flicked a trio of shuriken through the air. Aska twisted into a spinning evasive maneuver, the blades flashing past her as the crowd roared. She came out of the spin with a rising strike, but Shadow calmly sidestepped it and drove a hard kick into Aska’s ribs. Aska staggered. She recovered quickly and tried something less conventional. Aska launched herself backside first in Shadow’s direction. Shadow disappeared as a smoke bomb hit the mat. White-gray smoke erupted between them. Aska plunged straight into it. “Damn it!” Shadow emerged from the opposite side of the cloud like a ghost. Her foot swept forward in a Flying Step Tobi Ashi slide, catching Aska’s legs and knocking her off balance. Before Aska could recover, Shadow sprang upward and drove a low-angle dive kick into Aska’s chest. Aska slammed onto the mat. The crowd erupted. Aska rolled onto one knee, breathing hard. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Shadow settle back into her stance. Aska had fought dangerous opponents before. Mutants. Machines. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But Shadow was different. Every time Aska thought she had figured her out, another trick appeared. Another weapon, another angle, another trap. Frustration finally won out. Aska planted her feet and thrust both hands forward. A tornado of compressed energy screamed across the arena floor. Shadow Yamoto simply vanished. Not jumped or dodged but actually vanished. Her silhouette seemed to collapse into the darkness beneath her feet as the energy wave tore through the space where she had been standing. Aska stared. “Where did she go?” A shadow moved behind her. Shadow emerged from it. Her leg whipped upward in a brutal cartwheel kick that caught Aska across the side of the head. Aska reeled, and Shadow followed with a sweeping strike from her metal war fan. Aska stumbled backward, dazed. That was enough. Shadow dropped low and slid across the mat, driving her heel into Aska’s back. Aska crashed forward. She struggled to push herself upright. Shadow reached into her arsenal one more time and produced a small, compact device. She tossed it. The mine bounced once, rolled across the mat, and came to rest beside Aska. Aska’s eyes widened. “Oh, come..” The blast swallowed her in smoke and debris. When the haze cleared, Aska lay motionless on the mat. “This fight is over,” Shadow declared. For half a second, the arena was silent. Then the crowd exploded. Roulette leaned forward from her elevated position, delighted by the spectacle. “What an explosive ending to that round, ladies and gentlemen!” she announced. “And just where is Shadow Yamoto keeping all those weapons? Not that I’m complaining!” Laughter and cheers rolled through the stands as the betting boards wiped Aska’s name away and began calculating the odds for the next bout. At ringside, Karai watched the mystics of the Hand hurry onto the mat. “She could have killed Aska.” Lotus Blossom kept her eyes on the unconscious fighter. “We knew what kind of tournament we signed up for.” Karai folded her arms. The Hand mystics surrounded Aska. Lotus watched for another moment before stepping toward the cage. “I’ll take the next match.” Karai raised an eyebrow. “I want the money.” Lotus glanced back at her. “And when I want something done properly, I prefer to put my own hands on it.” “Just remember what you're walking into,” stated Karai.” That woman has more tricks hidden on her than a magician.” “I'll deal with her.” Lotus Blossom stepped toward the cage, then paused and looked across to the opposite side at Hibana. “And the one in white.” Lotus then turned her head to look back at Karai. “Every match we win because of me raises the price of my services.” Karai smirked. “If you can help us get to the finals, it will be well worth it.” Lotus entered the cage. Across from her, the Hand mystics finished their work. Shadow Yamoto was rejuvenated and refreshed. The mystics carried Aska away while the crowd buzzed with anticipation. Lotus unsheathed her dual swords. “Those techniques may have worked on an inexperienced kid, but I've been around long enough to recognize a bag of tricks when I see one. It will not match up against my skill.” Shadow's expression remained calm. “You mistake experience for superiority.” Shadow settled into her stance. “I have fought warriors with decades of experience from every point in history. I have beaten them all.” Above them, Roulette raised her microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, get those bets in! The third round of our opening battle is about to begin! Will Shadow Yamoto continue her dark reign, or will Lotus Blossom show herself to be the dominant force in this match?” The arena lights tightened around the two fighters. Roulette grinned. "Place your bets!”

Great addition to the story, I will have to look up Million Knives. Don't know anything about him. As for this fight, I think the setup to her showdown with Jean gave Evil Lyn a distinct advantage, an advantage she doesn't have here. I think Betsy can fight through her illusions and dark sorcery. Wouldn't be her first time dealing with such things.

THE GANGLAND WARS: Part 14 CONTINUED FROM ROBERTA VS. HITMAN I watched the camera feed in disbelief as Roberta cycled through her arsenal with the cold efficiency of a female Terminator. Assault rifle. Sidearm. Another weapon I couldn't identify. It didn't seem to matter what she picked up. The result was always the same. It didn’t take long before Hitman went down. Roberta never raised her voice. Never lost her composure. Never even looked particularly angry. She simply advanced through Geese Tower, expressionless, cutting down the advances of this professional killer as though she were working through a checklist. When Tommy fell, she didn't celebrate. She started cleaning. One by one, Roberta dragged the bodies away from the hallway like she was cleaning up a spilled drink. I was beginning to understand why Geese kept her so close. Nina Williams watched the feeds from beside me. Her eyes shifted from one camera to another before stopping. "We've got movement on the floor." She leaned closer to the monitor. "Wait. Is that...?" Roberta heard footsteps approaching, her rifle came up instantly. Then she saw the short silver hair and lowered her weapon. Christie stepped into view with her usual confident swagger, hands raised in mock surrender and a sly smile on her face. Behind her lumbered a man with enormous shoulders, long brown hair, and a thick beard. Christie glanced at the bodies scattered around the corridor. "What did I miss?" "Someone came gunning for Master Geese," Roberta replied. "I stopped him." Christie smiled. "Direct and efficient as always, Roberta." Roberta gave her nothing in return. She simply went back to work. Christie turned toward one of the security cameras. "I secured our package in Madripoor." She gestured toward the mountain behind her. "His name is Roughouse. He’s quite strong and judging by the name, I'm assuming he's a fair fighter." Roughouse said nothing. Christie smiled. "Roughouse, darling, be a gentleman and help Roberta clean up this mess." The giant gave a single nod. Christie headed for the elevator. Upstairs, Geese Howard was pacing behind his desk before he finally sat down and looked toward Nina. "You're certain that hitman was sent by Harvey Dent?" Nina folded her arms. "Tommy Monaghan operated out of Gotham. It would be one hell of a coincidence if Dent wasn't behind it." "Then we'll hit him twice as hard." Geese turned toward Hein. "Gather a unit. We're striking the Divided District." Before Hein could answer, the elevator doors opened. Christie stepped out. "That won't be necessary." Geese looked toward her. Christie leaned casually against the doorframe. "Harvey Dent is no more." Geese's expression changed immediately. "What?" Hein raised an eyebrow. "You took care of him?" Christie laughed. "I'm good, darling, but I'm not that fast. I just got back." She walked farther into the office. "Roughouse and I heard about it when we landed back in Gangland." Nina stepped forward. "What happened? And why haven't we heard about this?" Christie shrugged. "News travels in mysterious ways." She said casually. "Apparently the Triad took him down." "They took the district?" asked Geese. "All of it." For a moment, nobody spoke. I thought back to my first encounter with the Triad in East Island with Mr. Big. They had moved like a machine. fast, disciplined, and without much interest in asking permission. I'd known Two-Face was going to have trouble. I hadn't expected him to already be dead. Christie continued. "I heard about Big, too. Shame, really. I saw him just before I left." Then her eyes found me. She stopped. A smile slowly crept across her face. "In fact,..." She walked toward me. "I saw you there, too." I didn't like where this was going. "I knew we'd cross paths again," Christie continued. "I just didn't expect it to be here." Nina's attention shifted to me. "You know him?" Christie shook her head. "No. But I've seen him before. He was with Mr. Big when I left." Her eyes stayed on mine. Nina also stared at me for a moment. "The man carrying one of the Jin Scrolls." Nina ticked off the first item on her fingers and continued with more fingers as she went on. "The man who kidnapped Penguin's birds. The man who went to the Peaky Blinders on behalf of Madam Masque. And now we discover he was with Mr. Big shortly before Big was killed. What other secrets are you keeping from us?" Hein stepped in. "If he was with Mr. Big, he may know what happened in Tombstone's district. Whatever happened there was enough to ignite this entire turf war." Nina nodded. “I wonder if there's been any major event on the east side of Gangland that he hasn't somehow managed to witness." It sounded ridiculous when she said it aloud. Unfortunately, it was true. I'd seen things I had no business seeing. I'd also been there when Silvermane's son was marched toward his death. I'd also overheard Big Boy put the original hit on Hammerhead. And somehow I'd survived all of it. I wasn't about to volunteer that information. Now Geese was staring at me. Then his fist slammed down onto the desk. The sudden fury made me jump. "I'll crush him like a bug and squeeze whatever useful information I can from what's left." My throat went dry. Lark had been right. I wasn't going to die at the end of a gun. I was going to get beaten into a bloody pulp by the former King of Southtown. I really should have taken more hand-to-hand lessons. Hein calmly placed a hand on Geese's shoulder. "Remember. Madam Masque chose him for a reason." Geese glared at him. "We may have avoided a war with Two-Face, but there's no reason to immediately start another one with her,” Hein reasoned. He gestured toward me. "We have one of the scrolls. We can negotiate for the other." And if he can tell us what happened to Mr. Big, that may compensate for Billy's failure." Geese froze. His anger gave way to something else, concern. "What happened to Billy?" Nobody answered. Geese looked toward Christie, then Nina, then Hein. "Where is he? Why hasn’t he checked in?" That was my moment. Whitney had always told me to make the smart decision. At that moment, the smart decision was very simple. Make myself useful. "I may know where he is." Every eye in the room turned toward me. Geese stood up and walked toward me.. "You may?" "If he disappeared in the Warehouse District, there's an underground clinic there. A place called the Mercy Ward." Geese's expression remained suspicious. "I can take someone there. We can find him,” I declared. "If he's still alive," Geese stopped inches from me. "Now you're eager to do me a favor?" After I just threatened to flatten you?" Christie leaned against the wall, thoroughly enjoying herself. "Clever boy." I could practically see the machinery turning behind Geese's eyes. There was one person in the world Geese Howard seemed to have genuine affection for. Billy Kane. If Billy's life was hanging in the balance, Geese might be willing to make a decision he otherwise wouldn't. Finally, he turned. "Christie." She stood up straight. "Take him to the Warehouse District. Find Billy. Find out what happened. And bring him back." Christie smiled. "With pleasure." Geese turned toward Nina. "You head north. Hammerhead's district." Nina nodded. "Find out what you can about the Ventriloquist's attack on Tommy Shelby. Was it a one-time gesture of solidarity with Dent, or is there something bigger coming?" He paused. "And check with your contacts. I want to know whether Thomas Monaghan could have been contracted by anyone other than Harvey Dent." Nina nodded again. Geese turned to Hein. "Arrange a meeting with the Triad." Hein nodded. "We need to know where we stand with them." Geese walked toward the window overlooking the city. "And reach out to the Theatre District. If Madam Masque has the other scroll, I want to know how we get it." He looked back at me. "Tell them we're keeping her errand boy until an agreement can be reached." With that, Geese Howard had taken the chaotic mess of the day and turned it into a series of orders. Everyone in the room suddenly had somewhere to go, including me. I would also soon find out exactly how much my life meant to Whitney. The elevator descended through Geese Tower, carrying Christie and me toward the lower floors while my thoughts ran in circles. Geese had threatened to turn me into paste only minutes earlier. Whitney was somewhere in the city, and depending on how that conversation went, I could either have a future or my days were numbered. I did what I could to keep my mind on the immediate problem. Billy Kane. If I could find Geese's right-hand man, bring him back alive, and provide Geese with useful information about what had happened in the Warehouse District, maybe, just maybe, I could get into the man's good graces. It wasn't much of a plan. But in Gangland, sometimes "not dead yet" was the closest thing you got to one. The elevator suddenly slowed. Christie reached past me and pressed a button. The doors opened onto a floor roughly halfway down the tower. I looked at her. "What are we doing here?" "It's getting late," Christie said. "If we want to reach the Warehouse District quickly, we're better off taking my motorcycle." She stepped out and gave me a sly smile. "Wait here, handsome." Then she disappeared down the corridor. I was mildly surprised she'd left me unsupervised. Then again, Christie wasn't stupid. She knew I wouldn't get far. Even if I somehow made it out of Geese Tower, I would still have to survive East Island without Geese's protection. Running now would only turn a bad situation into a suicidal one. So I waited. A few minutes later, Christie returned. The black sleeveless top and leather pants she'd been wearing earlier were gone. In their place was a silver one-piece riding suit., close-fitting and unzipped, with a red streak spiraling around the fabric like a racing stripe. The outfit looked less like protective gear and more like something designed specifically to make sure nobody could look anywhere else. Christie planted her hands on her hips. "So?" I looked her over. "It's...eye catching." She laughed. "That your way of saying you like it." "I didn't say that." "You didn't have to." She turned toward the elevator. "Come on." We rode down to the parking garage. Christie's motorcycle was exactly what I expected, sleek, powerful, and expensive. I climbed on behind her. Christie started the engine. I wrapped my arms tight around her waist. It was necessary if I wanted to remain attached to the motorcycle. I told myself that was the only reason, although it was clear I was still a little uncomfortable. Christie chuckled beneath her helmet. Then she opened the throttle. The motorcycle roared out of the garage and into the night. Within minutes we were tearing across the southeastern edge of Gangland.. We didn't talk. Between the engine and the wind, conversation would've been pointless anyway. As we approached the Warehouse District, I leaned forward and pointed toward the streets leading deeper into Tombstone's territory. Christie followed my gesture. A few minutes later, we pulled up outside the Mercy Ward. It was only a few hours before midnight. Christie killed the engine, climbed off, and removed her helmet. She shook out her hair and looked at me. "So," she said, "how exactly did things go down out here with Big and Tony Zucco?" I said nothing. Christie tilted her head. "I was a little surprised Geese didn't ask you about it before we left. Although, I suppose with Dent gone, maybe it isn't quite as important as it was." I remained silent. She studied me. "Unless the Triad was involved." That got my attention. Christie smiled. "Now that would be useful information." Still, I kept my mouth shut. She laughed softly. "You really don't talk much, do you?" I started toward the Mercy Ward. "Let's find Billy." Christie followed. "For all our sakes, I hope he's actually here and not lying in a gutter somewhere. Geese is going to have a coronary if we come back empty-handed." Her voice briefly softened. "And I'd hate for anything to happen to my British brother." We stepped through the doors. The Mercy Ward looked much as I remembered it, although there was something different about the place now. The usual bustle of doctors and orderlies was accompanied by the unmistakable signs of recent violence. Broken equipment and scuffed walls. Bloodstains that somebody hadn't quite managed to scrub away. The receptionist looked up. Her eyes widened when she recognized me. "Never thought I'd see you back here." "Neither did I." Christie stepped forward. "We're looking for Billy Kane. Is he here?" The receptionist pointed down the corridor. "Down there. Take a left. You won't have trouble finding him. That whole section is still being cleaned up." I frowned. "Cleaned up?" "From the fights." "Fights? There were multiple fights here?" I asked. She gave me a tired look. "Things aren't what they used to be around here." That was putting it mildly. Christie and I headed down the corridor. Orderlies were still clearing away broken furniture and damaged medical equipment. The Mercy Ward had always been a nice little island of neutrality in Gangland, but now it looked like the island had been hit by a storm. We eventually reached Billy's room. I could see him through the open doorway, laid out on a hospital bed. Christie suddenly grabbed my arm. "Wait." I stopped. She was looking inside. Two women stood over Billy. One was Christine Palmer, the head nurse I'd met during my previous visit. The other was a stranger. She had long black hair and wore yellow, with a scarf wrapped around her neck. The woman looked down at Billy. "He's the only survivor?" "Unfortunately," Christine answered. She looked exhausted. "The man with the mace arm and the man with the blades for hands both lost too much blood during their fight. The large gentleman named Jack suffered severe injuries as well. He didn't make it." Christine glanced toward Billy. "Mr. Kane is in rough condition, but we're confident he'll survive." "Thank you, Miss Palmer. You've been very helpful." Her voice was calm, almost pleasant. "We'd like to move Mr. Kane as soon as possible. I believe that would be best for everyone involved. Certainly for the Mercy Ward." Christine was slightly confused. "Because?" "I fear his presence here will only attract more violence." Christine smiled. "Your concern is appreciated. But we have a policy. We don't release patients until they're medically fit to leave." The woman frowned. Christine continued. "And we don't transfer custody of an injured person to outside organizations when there's a possibility their condition could be used as leverage in a gang conflict." "I understand your policy. But surely you can make an exception." Christie pulled my arm. "Let's go." I looked at her. "What?" "Now." She was already walking toward the exit. I followed, confused. We made it outside before I finally stopped. "What are we doing?" Christie glanced back at the Mercy Ward. "That woman in there is Triad." I looked toward the building. "What makes you so sure?" "You couldn't see it. But that mustard scarf around her neck is probably hiding the tattoo." "And that's automatically a bad thing?" I wondered. Christie gave me a look. "Do we know where Geese stands with the Triad yet?" "No." "Exactly. So we don't assume they're friends,” she explained. "And we don't assume they're enemies, either. Until we know where Geese stands, we keep our heads down." Christie glanced back toward the doors. "Once she leaves, we go inside. If she takes Billy with her, we follow." I nodded. "That makes sense." "Of course it does." Christie raised an eyebrow. "Unless, of course, you know something about the Triad that I don't." I opened my mouth. Before I could answer, the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked came from behind me. I froze. A woman's voice followed. "You came inside and didn't say hello." I slowly turned. The woman in yellow stood behind us with a handgun aimed directly at me. "That's very rude." Christie sighed. "Leiko. We only came to check on Billy." I looked at Christie. "You know her?" "Leiko Wu. Former MI6 agent. Current Triad operative. Or undercover MI6 agent working deep inside the Triad. Depending on which story you believe." Christie shrugged. "Either way, she can't be trusted." Leiko smiled thinly. "That's rich coming from a mercenary assassin." Then her eyes settled on me. Her expression changed. Recognition flashed across her face. "Wait." She lowered the pistol slightly. "I know you." That was not something I wanted to hear. "There are a lot of people looking for you," said Leiko. "If you want to survive what's coming, you should come with me." I didn't like the sound of that any more than I liked the gun in my face. Christie stepped between us. "He's with us. Until Geese says otherwise." "This is above your pay grade, Christie,” stated Leiko. Christie moved faster than I could follow. Her hand knocked the pistol from Leiko's grip. The weapon skidded across the pavement and disappeared into a drainage grate. "I'm officially promoting myself,” said Christie. Leiko stared at the drain, then she sighed. "I really liked that gun." "I know you've got another one." "That's not the point." The two women slowly began circling each other. "I wasn't planning on taking down an old target tonight." She glared at Christie. "But I'm not exactly upset about the opportunity." Christie smirked. "Life works in mysterious ways, darling." She lowered into a fighting stance. "I was thinking the same thing." Behind us, the Mercy Ward's doors suddenly locked. The receptionist's muffled voice came through the glass. "We'll take care of the aftermath!" Then there was a pause. "But those two are going to keep the violence outside!" I stared at the two women. Christie looked delighted at the opportunity to contradict her earlier sentiments about crossing the Triad. Leiko looked ready to kill her. And somehow, in the middle of Gangland, this was beginning to feel almost normal.

No, I agree with leroy. We don't know exactly how Blanka stacks up to the Street Fighters because I can't recall any canon victories or losses, but I will say he spends a lot of time with Sakura and Dan and isn't even necessarily presented as the strongest one in that trio. It's great to see a match from you @Mercenaryblade.

THE BLOCKBUSTER SURPRISE: A GANGLAND SIDE STORY PART 4 CONTINUED FROM PUSSY GALORE VS. JAILBAIT The afternoon sun still hung over Goldfinger’s estate, but the easy confidence that had settled over the grounds was gone. Shego and May Day had combed the perimeter from the tree line to the outer fences and found nothing. Whoever had set off the explosion in the woods had vanished without leaving so much as a footprint worth following. As they made their way back toward the mansion, May Day slowed. Her expression changed. “It was a distraction,” she announced. Goldfinger stopped dead. His eyes widened. “My gold.” The word hung there for half a second before the three of them hurried inside. Jaws followed stiffly, with one hand pressed against his battered ribs The mansion was eerily quiet. May Day surveyed the corridor. “The alarm was triggered,” she said. “But someone shut it off.” They rounded the corner. Several of Goldfinger’s men were scattered across the polished floor. Some were slumped against the walls. Others lay face down where they had fallen. Not one of them were moving. Goldfinger’s jaw tightened. “What the devil happened here?” “Vault,” May Day said. “Now.” She positioned herself in front of him. “Stay behind me.” Shego followed with her green eyes sweeping the corridors. “I've got your back.” They reached the vault. The massive door stood open, its edges blackened and warped where Jailbait had turned Goldfinger's own security system against it. Inside, Pussy Galore lay unconscious on the floor. May Day crouched beside her and shook her shoulder. “Pussy.” Galore groaned. “Come on. Wake up.” Pussy opened her eyes and slowly pushed herself upright, rubbing the back of her head. “That girl was a lot tougher than she looked.” Goldfinger's eyes had locked onto the vault. More specifically, onto the empty spaces in his carefully arranged stacks of bullion. “Ten bars.” His voice was quiet. Then it wasn't. “Ten bars of my gold are gone?” Pussy Galore climbed to her feet. “Looks that way.” “And you're telling me some girl simply walked into my vault and stole them?” “It was a little more coordinated than that.” Galore replied. Goldfinger glared at her. “Who was she?” “Black hair. Black outfit. Domino mask.” Pussy rubbed the back of her skull again. “Called herself Jailbait.” Shego snorted. Goldfinger turned on Galore. “You allowed a complete stranger to walk out of my estate carrying ten gold bars?” “That's not what happened.” “Then what happened?” “The explosion in the woods was probably a distraction,” May Day said. “A distraction that occupied everyone except the person we found in my vault.” Goldfinger’s gaze settled accusingly on Galore. “And you were conveniently unconscious inside when we arrived.” Pussy was simultaneously confused and insulted. “Are you seriously accusing me?” “I'm saying the circumstances are suspicious.” “I was trying to protect your money!” Pussy pointed toward Shego. “And while I was doing it, I was also trying to recruit the muscle you wanted.” Goldfinger's expression remained cold. “Yes. New faces. New distractions. And on the very same afternoon, someone robs me.” Shego folded her arms. “You're welcome, by the way.” Goldfinger barely glanced at her. May Day stepped between them. “Enough. Whoever this Jailbait is, she can't have gotten far. Pussy and I can track her down.” Goldfinger pointed toward the ruined vault. “While I remain here with an injured Jaws and someone I've known for approximately five minutes?” Shego's eyes narrowed. “Hold on a minute.” Before the argument could go any further, another voice drifted down the corridor. “Have I arrived at a bad time?” Everyone turned. The middle-aged man standing at the end of the hallway looked completely at ease amid the wreckage. His immaculate suit seemed almost absurd against the disordered mansion. Behind him stood a blonde woman with a hard face and an even harder stare. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who had never needed to announce that she meant business. Goldfinger recognized the man immediately. “Mr. White.” White smiled thinly. “Goldfinger.” “What brings you here?” “I believe you know.” White stepped farther into the corridor. “A certain red-haired assassin has been causing problems. Scaramanga is dead, and our organization has a vested interest in maintaining the stability of your financial operations.” His gaze drifted toward the ruined vault. “Judging by the condition of your estate, I can only assume this is related." Pussy folded her arms. “You have impeccable timing.” “It's one of my better qualities.” May Day stepped forward. “We can handle this.” “I don't doubt your enthusiasm.” White's attention shifted toward the vault. “But if there is another problem developing here, I would prefer to know about it.” “If you want to try and deal with Benedict,” May Day suggested. “We'll get Goldfinger's money back.” “Splendid.” White gestured toward the blonde woman behind him. “In the meantime, I've brought someone to reinforce your ranks.” The woman stepped forward. “Helga Sinclaire.” White continued. “She is disciplined, efficient, and refreshingly uncomplicated. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but she gets results. I believe she is perfect for the kind of environment you now find yourself in, Goldfinger.” May Day and Helga exchanged a long, measuring stare. Neither woman blinked. Goldfinger noticed. He had built organizations before. He knew the danger of filling a room with too many unfamiliar faces. Every new recruit was another variable. Another potential liability. But he had a murderous assassin to deal with. A stolen fortune to recover. And Mr. White was not a man whose offers could be casually refused. Goldfinger extended his hand. “Welcome to the organization, Miss Sinclaire.” Helga looked at his hand, then at him. “Just call me Helga.” Goldfinger gave the faintest smile. “Very well, Helga.” Helga and Shego stayed with Jaws and Goldfinger while May Day and Pussy Galore began their pursuit of Jailbait. Meanwhile, Mr. White began his search of Goldfinger’s district of the elusive Mr. Benedict. In the southern part of the district there was a particular bar. It was the kind of place Goldfinger’s district did well: expensive enough to discourage the desperate, anonymous enough to discourage the curious. Polished wood. Low amber lighting. Leather booths. Imported liquor behind the bar. No gaudy signs, no loud music. The clientele looked like businessmen, socialites, and people who preferred their social gatherings conducted somewhere with good carpeting. Mr. Benedict sat alone at the bar; one hand wrapped around a neat single malt Scotch while the other worked a pen across a sheet of paper. There were names and places. He had crossed out three already. Two more remained. Targets inside Goldfinger’s organization. Men whose deaths, disappearances, or betrayals would weaken the structure without immediately pointing back to Benedict. He took a sip and smiled. “Getting close now.” The front door opened. Three people walked in. They didn't belong. Benedict recognized them immediately. Roku, her long red hair falling over a black-and-red tactical outfit entered first. Behind her was Shrike, dressed in a crimson-and-yellow bodysuit with a mask covering the upper half of his face. Lady Vic followed with blonde braids framing a large red-and-white domino mask above a maroon corset and bodysuit with gold accents. Benedict's smile vanished. He folded his paper and slipped it into his jacket. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Shrike glanced around the room. “Nice place.” “I’m trying to remain inconspicuous,” Benedict said. “Being seen with three costumed assassins isn't exactly helpful. Blockbuster knows that.” “Blockbuster isn't so concerned about subtlety these days,” replied Shrike. Benedict stared at them for a moment before sliding off his stool. “Let’s continue this conversation outside.” The four of them stepped into the waning afternoon sunlight. The bar's discreet entrance opened onto a quiet street lined with manicured trees and expensive store fronts. Lady Vic folded her arms. “You've had your fun. Now we need to move this along.” Benedict adjusted his tie. “I've been moving it along.” “Not fast enough,” Lady Vic replied. “Blockbuster has a major deal with the Rodriguez Cartel waiting in the wings. But he needs this territory first.” “And he'll have it. I'm on the verge of dismantling Goldfinger's entire operation. Once I do, Blockbuster can walk in and take what's left.” Roku shook her head. “You're assuming Goldfinger is still playing with the same hand you started with.” Benedict looked at her. “Meaning?” “Meaning he's been bringing in reinforcements.” Shrike chuckled. “Enough reinforcements that people like us don't exactly stand out anymore.” Lady Vic glanced back north toward the district. “That woman dressed in red from head to toe, complete with a cape, I think she would fit it better with us..” “Just another reason to proceed carefully,” Benedict insisted. “Carefully?” Shrike laughed. “That's what got us here in the first place.” Benedict ignored him. “The original plan was sound. I dismantle Goldfinger's organization from within and keep Blockbuster's involvement hidden until the other bosses are too late to react.” Benedict looked between them. “What changed?” “Everything.” Shrike gestured toward the surrounding district. “Have you been hiding under a rock? Penguin is gone. Two-Face is gone. Gnucci is gone. Half of Gangland is being carved up by whoever is bold enough to grab a piece.” “It's become a free-for-all,” Roku added. “Everybody is looking for an opening.” Benedict adjusted his cufflinks. “Then perhaps subtlety has outlived its usefulness.” “Now you're getting it,” Shrike said. Benedict considered the situation. “So, we're talking about an assault.” “Not yet,” Lady Vic said. She stepped closer. “First, we cut off Goldfinger's ability to bring in more outside help. Then we take him apart.” Benedict nodded slowly. “Reasonable.” “But there's another problem,” stated Roku. Benedict raised an eyebrow. “Another?” “You've got another assassin looking for you. He's been moving through the district,” Roku explained. “He's already visited most of your known locations.” Lady Vic smiled. “And if his intelligence is as good as it seems, he won't need long to find this one.” Benedict's mouth curled into a smile. “Another game of cat and mouse.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Fine.” His remaining eye gleamed with cold amusement. “The last man who came looking for me was Scaramanga. We all know how that ended.” Lady Vic gave him a knowing look. “Keep your good eye open.” Benedict chuckled. “Always.”

Poor Buddy. Wants to be with the big boys and although I think he is a formidable villain, I think he takes another loss here to T'Challa.

I'm going with the Fishmen Karate of one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. Curious to see who will show up next.

Mammoth Mogul seems like a cool character. Need to look into some Sonic.

Another cool mix of characters. I am going Team 1 here.

I'm glad you have taken this mantle and a very creative way to incorporate Mr. Rogers.

THE QUEEN OF FIGHTERS: A GANGLAND SIDE STORY PART 2 CONTINUED FROM ASKA VS. YUKIO The best view in Roulette's arena was not from ringside. It was from the private box suspended above the cage, behind smoked glass and velvet curtains. From there, the fight below looked almost abstract, two women moving beneath white-hot lights, bodies flashing between the steel posts while thousands of gamblers screamed themselves hoarse over every punch. Roulette preferred it that way. The cage was for fighters. The box was for the people deciding why they fought. She stood beside Matsu'o Tsurayaba, one hand resting lightly against the railing as she watched Aska and Yukio circle one another below. Her eyes moved constantl, not just following the fighters, but the betting boards, the crowd's reactions, the private boxes, the exchange of money changing hands in quantities too large to be carried in wallets. "Not a bad opening, wouldn't you say?" Matsu'o sat comfortably in a dark chair beside her, one leg crossed over the other. Smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between his fingers. He watched the cage with the look of a man studying merchandise before making an investment. "Not bad at all." His eyes followed Yukio as she slipped away from one of Aska's attacks. "If this is merely the beginning, I would say your tournament should prove well worth our time." Roulette smiled. "As you knew it would." Matsu'o took another drag from his cigarette. "I had confidence in your instincts. I didn't say I had confidence in your judgment." Roulette laughed. Before she could answer, the private door opened. Vice entered first. Juno Skinner followed behind her. Roulette immediately noticed the tension in the room. Vice looked as composed as ever, but there was a hard, predatory edge behind her eyes. Juno was less successful at looking composed. Dark red marks stood out against her throat where fingers had recently closed around it. Roulette's smile thinned. "Miss Skinner. It's not often you make a personal appearance down here at the fights." Juno touched the bruises absently. "We have a situation." Roulette turned toward Vice. "What kind of situation?" Vice's expression didn't change. "Ivan the Russian was causing problems in the art gallery." Matsu'o raised an eyebrow. Vice continued. "I dealt with him." Matsu'o took a slow puff from his cigarette. "Do you intend to add him to the exhibit?" Vice glanced toward him. "Making trophies out of defeated opponents is Rugal's hobby. I would just as soon leave them in the gutter to die." Matsu'o chuckled quietly. Roulette studied Vice for a moment. "Then he's alive." "For the moment." That answer seemed to amuse Matsu'o even more. Below them, the audience erupted as Aska drove Yukio backward. Roulette barely looked. "With Ma Gnucci recently removed from the board, I assume our Russian friend is connected to whoever replaced her." "Most likely," Vice said. Juno stepped closer to the glass. "There was a woman with him." Roulette looked at her. "A woman?" "Busty blonde. Russian, judging by the accent." Juno scanned the crowd below. "She was with him when they first entered my art house. There." She pointed. Roulette's eyes traveled across the sea of spectators until she found Sofia. The blonde woman sat several rows from the cage, outwardly calm despite the chaos surrounding her. She wasn't shouting. She wasn't drinking. She wasn't even watching the fight with the same hunger as everyone around her. She was observing. Roulette's expression became more interested. Vice followed Juno's finger and narrowed her eyes. "I'll remove her." "No,” Roulette interjected. Vice looked at Roulette with a little indignance. Roulette held up a hand. "Not yet. She came here with him, and now she's sitting alone. Which makes her vulnerable and makes her useful." Vice didn't look convinced. Roulette turned toward the window again. "I don't believe Rugal would appreciate us starting an open war with the Soviet Syndicate before we've even learned how large their operation is." "He started it." Vice glanced toward Juno. "He attacked her." Juno's fingers brushed the bruises around her throat. "She still has the marks." Roulette looked sympathetically at Juno. "Yes." Then she looked back at Vice. "And you finished it." Vice's expression remained cold. Roulette smiled. "Which means the situation can still end here." Vice folded her arms. "And if it doesn't?" "Then we let them escalate." Roulette's eyes glittered. "On our terms." For the first time, Vice looked genuinely curious. Roulette walked toward the enormous roulette wheel mounted on the far wall of the private room. Smaller than the one hanging over the arena floor, it was still functional, its polished sections marked with the teams competing below. One space remained empty. She tapped it with a fingernail. "I have room for one more team." Vice looked at the wheel. Roulette turned back toward her. "Bring the Russian to his friend. Make her an offer. The Soviet Syndicate can enter a team into the tournament." Juno's expression brightened immediately. Vice looked skeptical. "They attacked us." "And now we give them the opportunity to fight us properly." Roulette spread her hands. "They can send their best three female fighters. If they survive the other teams and advance far enough, perhaps they even earn another crack at you." Vice considered it. "And in the meantime?" "In the meantime, we learn what they have." Roulette gestured toward Sofia. "They're clearly interested in what we're doing here. Why not let them get a closer look?" Juno smirked. "From inside the cage." "Exactly." Roulette returned to Matsu'o. "And of course, it broadens the selection available to our honored guests." Matsu'o leaned forward slightly. For the first time since Vice and Juno had entered, his attention shifted fully away from the fight. He looked through the glass at Sofia. "We would certainly like to see what the Soviet Syndicate brings to the table,” he said. Vice exhaled sharply through her nose. "Fine. I'll return her battered friend and make the offer." She stopped and her eyes drifted downward toward Sofia. "But if she tries anything, anything at all, I'm ripping her apart." Roulette's smile returned. "I would expect nothing less." Vice left. The door closed behind her. Roulette turned toward Juno. Her eyes settled on the bruises around the younger woman's throat. "That looks uncomfortable." Juno gave her a dry look. "It was not the highlight of my evening." "How terrible." She looked toward Matsu'o. "Would you mind if I borrowed one of your mystics?" Matsu'o smiled faintly and gave a small nod. "Of course." Down below, the cage belonged to Aska now. For nearly two minutes, she and Yukio had battered one another from one side of the enclosed ring to the other, trading kicks, punches, elbows, and anything else they could put into motion. Neither woman had managed to seize a lasting advantage. Every clean strike was answered by another. Yukio fought with the reckless confidence of someone who had spent too much of her life surrounded by dangerous people to be impressed by one more. Her movements were quick, athletic, and unpredictable, her dark hair whipping around her face as she darted in and out of Aska's range. Aska was more disciplined. She held herself low, balanced, and deliberate, her eyes never leaving Yukio for long. Yukio lunged, Aska met her with a sharp forearm block. Yukio immediately spun into a roundhouse kick. Aska ducked beneath it and came back with a kick of her own. Yukio caught the blow against her ribs with both arms, but the force still shoved her backward across the mat. The crowd roared. Yukio smiled. Aska smiled back. Then both women attacked again. Aska reached beneath her vest and produced a kunai. A murmur moved through the audience. The kunai flashed. Yukio twisted aside from the first slash and caught Aska's wrist when the weapon came around again. The two women struggled for control of the blade, their arms locked together. Yukio drove her knee upward. Aska took the blow against her side and dropped the kunai. Aska stumbled backward. Yukio didn't give Aska time to recover. She rushed forward, leapt into the air, and threw herself into a diving kick aimed directly at Aska's chest. Aska rolled. Yukio crashed into the mat. Both women were back on their feet almost immediately. For a moment, they stood at opposite ends of the cage, breathing heavily. Yukio came forward first. She threw a punch. Aska blocked it. A kick, Aska retreated. Yukio pressed harder. That was exactly what Aska wanted. She continued giving ground, letting Yukio believe she was gaining momentum. The former Yakuza fighter moved faster, throwing combinations with increasing aggression. Aska avoided each one by inches. Then Yukio stepped too close. Aska's expression changed. She spun. The movement came so quickly that Yukio barely had time to recognize what was happening. Aska's body became a blur of rotating limbs, one kick striking Yukio across the ribs before another clipped her shoulder and a final spinning blow smashed into the side of her head. Yukio staggered sideways. The arena erupted. With her vision temporarily blurred, Yukio tried to steady herself. Aska was already moving. She launched herself forward and wrapped both legs around Yukio's upper body. The sudden impact drove Yukio backward. Both women crashed to the mat. Aska used Yukio's body as a springboard. She pushed off her fallen opponent, flipped backward, and landed gracefully on her feet. The crowd cheered the display. Yukio groaned as she forced herself onto one knee. Aska gave her no opportunity to recover. She planted her feet and the air around her began to twist. A violent current of energy spiraled around her body. Yukio looked up just as Aska thrust both hands forward. The tornado of energy tore across the cage. Yukio tried to brace herself, but it was too late. The attack struck her squarely and hurled her backward. She slammed into the mat. The crowd exploded. Yukio didn't move. Above the cage, Roulette threw one arm into the air. "Your first winner… ASKA!" The audience answered with a deafening roar. Aska raised her arms triumphantly. Not everyone was celebrating. A chorus of curses erupted from the gamblers who had placed their money on Yukio. Across the arena, the electronic betting boards flickered. Yukio’s odds vanished. Her name disappeared from the display. On the opposite side of the cage, Karai watched with the faintest hint of satisfaction. Lotus Blossom folded her arms beside her. "She fought well,” Lotus Blossom stated. Karai's eyes remained on Aska. "She's fought the Turtles in a tournament before. Mutants. Robots. Men twice her size. I knew she wouldn't be intimidated by whatever Roulette put in front of her." Lotus Blossom glanced toward the opposing team. "One down." She raised an eyebrow. "Let's see if your little protégé can take out two." Across the arena, the mood among Hibana's team was considerably less celebratory. Yukio was being helped away from the cage. Hibana watched her go with a serious expression. "Not an ideal beginning." She stepped forward. "Perhaps I should..." Shadow Yamoto moved past her. “I’ll go.” Hibana turned. Yamoto's face was calm, but her eyes were focused. "I've fought through worse than this." She looked toward Aska. “And that girl had better hope she's got more than one trick hidden under that costume. I've seen what she can do now." Hibana studied her. "You sound confident." "I once entered a tournament run by the Eternal Champion and fought cavemen, cybernetic kickboxers, vampires, and alchemists,” Yamoto replied. "Compared to that, this place feels normal." Almost. As Yamoto approached the entrance, movement on the opposite side of the ring caught her attention. The Hand mystics had entered the cage. The red-robed figures surrounded Aska without a word. The crowd quieted. Aska's victorious expression faded slightly as she looked from one silent figure to another. Karai immediately tensed. Her satisfaction disappeared. Lotus Blossom noticed. "Something wrong?" Karai didn't answer immediately. The mystics raised their hands. White light gathered around their fingers. Aska took an involuntary step backward. The mystics stepped with her. Their hands hovered over her bruises and cuts without touching them. The white energy intensified. Shadow Yamoto stopped at the cage entrance. Something about the scene bothered her. She couldn't have said exactly what. The mystics remained perfectly expressionless as their energy flowed over Aska. Bruises faded and cuts sealed. The swelling around Aska’s jaw disappeared. Within seconds, there was almost no evidence that she had just endured a brutal fight. The mystics lowered their hands. Aska flexed her shoulders and stared down at herself. She looked refreshed. Karai watched from outside the cage. Her eyes followed the red-robed figures as they withdrew. "The Hand doesn't do anything without a reason," she murmured. Back in the cage, Shadow Yamoyo was focused on the woman waiting for her. Aska rolled her shoulders. The damage from her first fight was gone. Above them, Roulette stepped forward with her microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen!" Roulette gestured toward Aska. "As promised, our first victor has been restored! Fresh, healed, and ready to continue to help her team’s climb through the Queen of Fighters Tournament!" The betting boards began shifting again. Roulette turned dramatically toward the opposite side. "But can she do it twice?" A spotlight fell across Shadow Yamoto and she stepped forward. "Or will the woman stepping into the cage now, the former Black Orchid Corporation assassin, bring Aska's winning streak to a very abrupt end? Place your bets!”

Another fun face-off.

Ah, this just reminds me that I need to get Tyris a proper match at some point. Still going with Team 2 here though.

Funny match.