As the night drew to a close, the body count tallied up. Four fighters were injured to the point that they had to be carried out. One in particular, the result of taking a rather swift and final blow from his massive opponent, the man known as Sagat. Li Mao Bin had seen better days... much better. But tonight... oh, tonight... was definitely not one of them. He had been beaten within an inch of his life, a parting farewell from his opponent, the "Emperor of Muay Thai." Such was the theme of his matches. Worthy fighters stood a chance of going a few rounds, before being crushed by his mighty hands. As for the rest... well... let's just say that Li Mao Bin got off lucky, if that's what you can call it.

Kauffman leaned over the railing by the entranceway, staring down at the crimson colored face mask the fighter now donned over his profile. He couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit of pity for the man. To think he came so far in the toruney, then just like that, the window of opportunity was slammed down right on his fingers.

"Brutal... just as I always pictured him. he has no remorse or pity for anyone that challenges him. Only hatred and rage. I can see it in the way he hits people. You don't punch and strike that hard in a good mood. We're lucky that kid's still alive."

"Well, it's no secret taht I didn't like what I saw tonight," Trask said in agreement, "but respect where it's due. Sagat's a powerful individual. And the obvious choice to go all teh way in the tournament. That is... unless he decides that it's not worth his time or effort to continue."

Kauffman turned to face him, and the stern expression on his face spoke volumes.

"If he doesn't continue in the tournament, I think that would benefit the other fighters. This isn't Mortal Kombat (couldn't resist the inside joke there!) and that match damn near ended with a fatality. Aren't there rules against this kind of stuff, Trask?"

"Sean, you know as well as I that this is a physical sport... no matter how physical it tends to get sometimes. You yourself have even been known to cause serious injuries to opponents in your matches. It's just chalked up to calculated risk and uneven matchups. Sadly, it doesn't look like anyone is even approaching Sagat's skill level. He could very well take it all the way."

Kauffman turned back to the now emptying arena. The blood stains were now smeared on the mat in uneven splotches. A constant reminder to him that this was indeed a very, very brutal sport.

"Dammit, old man... has he messed up your head that much? Where was all this bravado when you got your chest scarred!"

Adon flicked off the TV before he tossed his remote through the screen. He didn't approve of the ending to the match either. There was a fine line between skill and brutality... a line he was always careful not to cross when competing. It was possible to win matches without breaking your opponents into a million pieces. Apparently Sagat didn't agree.

"You weren't always like this, I recall. That's gotta be it. You're still bent out of shape about Ryu. Well, you should be, but save your agression for the Shotkan punk, self-proclaimed emperor of Muay Thai."

After a hot shower and some grooming, he was ready for bed. Funny thing is, he didn't feel like sleeping right away. Lying atop his bed, his mind drifted between sleep and random thought. Images of the past drifted through his mind. His past as a fighter. Just starting out, but his father, Baon Maek San, wanted him to be the best. As all fathers with their sons or proteges'. Constant training and conditioning was the regime. And at a young age, he became more than many of the elder fighters that came up before him. Some said that Baon was an excellent teacher, others chalked it up to natural talent. And there were those that insisted that it was a combination of the two. Whatever explanation you chose, the end result was Adon. A gifted fighter if ther ever was one.

"How was that, father?"

Baon Maek San nodded in approval as Adon swiftly tagged the 4 high-mounted targeted pads with swift kicks that executed in a bur of motion.

"Excellent, Lyygan. You're definitely condition for speed attacks. But you must also remember that a good offense, can be made even better with a good defense."

"I could have deflected any incoming attacks with ease. The assailant would have been too busy blocking or getting hit anyway, father!"

"Do you think so?"

Baon assumed a fighting stance. Adon did as well.

"Then show me."

Adon dashed forward, kicking high as he had just finished demonstrating. His father deflected the first blow, and before another came, nailed him with an elbow. Adon doubled over, coughing.

"Haaak.... H... how?!?!"

"In your haste to finish that little 4 hit kick attack, you leave yourself open to anyone that knows how to get by it. It does not ensure you 100% protection. One must always think defensiively, even on offense."

"Truer words have never been spoken, my dear Baon. It seems he still has much to learn."

Lyygan Kang San (Adon) looked to see the face of his taunter. Sagat stepped forward. Younger, but still as large and menacing looking as he's always been. Adon scowled at the man, who didn't other to acknowledge the dirty look he got.

"With constant vigil, dear boy, you could be one of the best someday. Who knows, mayhaps even better than me. That is, if such a thing was possible."

"Well, I look forward to showing you just how possible that is one day."

Sagat chuckled. He turned his attention to his father.

"So, Baon. I see the years have been rather kind to you. You look as healthy as always. Perhaps even healthy enough to return to battle one day. It would honor one such as myself to have the opportunity to face such a worthy challenger."

"Thank you, but no. I fear my fighting days are far behind me. But as you can see, Sagat, I am teaching young Lyygan everything I kow about the art. He will make a fine fighter. Perhaps even become a champion someday. I just hope I am around to witness that day."

Sagat looked down on the old man with a look of slight disrespect. That angered Lyygan.

"Well, for your sake, old man... I hope you stay in good health. Because I have a feeling that this young one won't ammount to much of a champion... even if he was to luck out and become one."

"Enough with your sarcasm and taunting, Sagat! Let's see if your resolve holds well in a battle! "

"Boy," he replied, "I have better ways to waste my time and energy..."

As he took his leave, Lyygan burned holes in the back of his neck with his eyes.

"Or maybe you fear that one good eye isn't enough to deal with me."

Sagat stopped dead in his tracks. He did not appreciate being disrespected... especially in the tone of voice that Lyygan used. And that was Lyygan's specialty. He had a knack for saying just the right things to get under anyone's skin. Sagat turned and faced him.

"Remember this, young Lyygan... one day the time will come that all your bravado and smart talk will be just that... nothing more than talk. The time will come that you have to prove yourself in battle. When that time comes, I will be keeping a careful eye on you."

"Yeah... the only one you jave left."

"No matter. Wen that time comes, I will know for certain if you are all talk, or if there is some truth to your proud boastings. But somehow I feel I will be dissapointed in either case."

The Emperor of Muay Thai departed, leaving Baon to console his enraged son.

"What? Are you sure?"

Another memory. He was now older, and in competition. A manager ran down the narrow locker room corridors, until he entered thet changing room of the fighters. Adon was seated in a chair in his locker room, being briefed on a prior match involving one of his fellow fighters.

"Yes sir. The news is circulating all over the media in the area. He was defeated. Mind you, it was a fierce match..."

"Nevermind that. You're telling me that the so called "Emperoro of Muay Thai" was dethroned!?!? And by a virtual unknown??!!? Where is the man that defeated him?"

"Gone. No sooner than he was declared the victor. Soem thought he had retired to the locker room, but when we sent someone to fetch him, he was gone. I hear he doesn't like to linger for too long in one place."

Adon stood up, his mind hard at work.

"Him... how dare he lose to the likes of this... this... Ryu! He has single handedly brough shame upon the very name of Muay Thai! This is a disgrace! I knew that he would eventually ammount to nothing more than a failure! And to think that he had the nerve, the downright audacity to downtalk me! Why I may just be the very thing that saves face in this situation! Yes! I'll find that white Karate-Gi wearing nobody, and stain it red with his blood!"

"But sir... no one knows where he is. Mister Sagat himself was also seriously wounded, a result of Ryu's final blow."

"Hmmm... then I shall tend to Sagat. Soon enough, he will heal. And when he does, I'll just put him back on that stretcher! That shall be his punishment for making a blatant mockery of our history and fighting culture! He deserves no less, the arrogant jerk!"

He fought it as long as he could, but he exhausted himself thinking too hard. Finally, he succumbed to the comfort of the bed. In moments, he was asleep.