Author's notes: Ok, ok, I know most of the stuff here is kind of familiar.
That's coz I can't seem to think of anything else to write in this series.
Kind of stuck. Been trying to finish this for over a month now! And this is
just about all I have. Heck, the last part was posted about half a year ago
already! I have got to finish this!!! Anyway, please send c and c to
lynch@surfshop.net.ph and suggestions on how this chapter and the xover
series should end are welcome too.

What happened last: Terry Bogard came to Nerima after beating Geese, meets
Ranma, Akane and Nabiki. On the way to the dojo, Terry gets beaten by
Wolfgang Krauser. Three days later he wakes up thanks to Nabiki's TLC. After
recovering somewhat, Terry catches a prowler who turns out to be Kodachi,
whom he meets for the first time. Finds himself in a compromising situation
with the Black Rose which Nabiki notices. Of course, Terry doesn't know that
Nabiki knows  about that incident. ^_^

LeeKing Works Proudly(?) Presents:

Not So Fatal Fury part 3.5 - Who was that Fanged boy?
by Kelvin "Lynch" Lee

Begin prologue


Tokyo, the city with perhaps the highest cost of living in the known world,
a single night in an expensive hotel room in this area could drive a wealthy
man from riches to rags.

In one such hotel, simply known as the Royal hotel, a muscular man clothed
in medieval armor rested inside his fancy hotel suite, awaiting his next
appointment in this city. This man, despite his size, seemed to fit in just
right with his surroundings, which stunk of opulence and wealth, as the
suite was filled with delicate and expensive looking antiques.

Wolfgang Krauser was sitting down comfortably on a cushioned Louis the IV
chair-  it seemed to be barely able to handle his impressive mass, none of
which seemed to be fat. He was sipping tea on a refurbished antique table,
and for one of the few times in his life, he was relatively relaxed.

He had recently defeated the man whom his half-brother, Geese Howard had
lost to. One Terry Bogard. He had been disappointing. Any person who was
capable of defeating Geese should have been a worthy opponent. One who could
have at least lasted more than five minutes against Krauser, instead, the so
called Hungry Wolf had lasted no more than two minutes. In fact, he had
lasted about a minute and a half.

Geese must be slipping.

Still, Bogard had managed to damage his armor, thought Krauser as he
unconsciously fingered the left shoulder of the aforementioned apparatus. No
one had ever done that to it before, for it had been a family heirloom, in
the House of Stronheim for centuries, and during that entire time, had never
been damaged in battle, much less nicked by any European warrior or weapon.
Its durability was unquestionable.

But it was getting old, it was possible that age had finally caught up with
the armor, so that even a quick hit from a weakling like Bogard had been
enough to damage it. Ah well. It doesn't matter anymore does it? Terry
Bogard was defeated, and the family honor, even if it was a rather
questionable honor, was defended. And he had even managed to learn a new
technique from it all, so it wasn't a total loss. Who knows? Maybe Bogard
would recover soon and then come challenge him, he had left his card with
them after all. That should be interesting.

Krauser looked at the clock on the wall and frowned, his appointment was
late! The person he was meeting always did like to abuse their good
relations, taking advantage of the fact that he was quite fond of him due to
his excellent fighting skills.

Slightly annoyed, Krauser took another sip of tea from his cup.

"WHERE ON EARTH AM I NOW?!?!!"

And promptly spewed the tea in surprise.

Krauser was off his chair in an instant, dropping the teacup, he rose and
turned so quickly that he was a blur.

He caught sight of the intruder, a healthy looking fellow in his younger
years, but with well-developed muscles despite his youth. He had a heavy
looking backpack on, with an umbrella on top, and he had a dotted bandanna
on his forehead. With the boy's mouth open from shouting, Krauser could see
that he had fanged teeth, something which reminded him of the legends of
vampires in Europe.

Trembling with anger at the intrusion and frustration from waiting, Krauser
pointed his finger at the boy.

"Who are you to intrude here?!" He asked in German.

The boy turned around, obviously surprised that there was someone else here,
but his expression of surprise turned to confusion.

"Um, would you happen to know the way to the Tendo Dojo?" The boy asked in
Japanese.

Realizing what country he was in, Krauser switched to the language earlier
used, cursing it all the while for its difficulty,  and asked the same
question, pronouncing it with a very thick German accent. "Who are you to
intrude here?"

The boy looked apologetic, scratching his head as he answered: "Me? Um, I'm
Ryouga Hibiki, and well, I'm kind of lost, could you direct me to the Tendo
Dojo? "

Krauser looked at him with a very odd expression on his face. Lost? Was the
boy making fun of him? How could you get lost in a hotel room? How in the
world did he manage to get in anyway? Perhaps the boy was an assassin, sent
to kill him by his many enemies, but no, that was ridiculous, the boy seemed
to be too stupid for that.

"Um, excuse me? I really have to get going, so could you tell me where the
Tendo dojo is?"

The boy was getting annoying. Wait a moment, why does Tendo dojo sound
vaguely familiar?  Krauser knew he had heard it before.

"Uh, sir? Hello?" The boy sounded annoyed too, now.

Krauser, his brow furrowed, turned his attention back to the boy.  "Boy, I
don't know what this Tendo dojo is," said Krauser with a snarl. "And for all
I care, it could burn to the ground, now get out before I kill you."

The boy blinked at that. "Look, I don't know what your problem is," He said,
his face reddening from anger. "But you don't have to insult the Tendo
dojo!"

Krauser was tired of this.

"Get out boy, unless you want to defend the honor of this � Tendo Dojo."
Said Krauser with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"You bet I do! Come on!" Shouted the bandanna-clad youth, as he dropped his
backpack and got a hold of his umbrella, brandishing it like a weapon.

The German smiled. Perhaps this boy could provide a distraction for a few
minutes, it was better than just sitting here with nothing to do, he really
did hate waiting. Pointing at the boy, he proclaimed: "I'll chisel your
gravestone, sleep well."

This was evidently too much for the younger fellow. With an angry shout, the
boy barreled towards him, swinging his umbrella in an overhead slash with
both his hands, aiming for Krauser's head.

Wolfgang simply caught it in the palm of his right hand. The German
staggered a bit from the force before adjusting and putting more strength
into it. The boy was apparently much stronger than he had originally
thought. Not strong enough though.

The boy looked surprised at how easily he had been able to stop his slash,
for he was totally unprepared for the uppercut that seemingly came out of
nowhere. It was a clean hit, straight to the jaw, and it would have probably
killed any normal man. The boy's head snapped back from the blow, his feet
rising from the ground as he lost his grip on his umbrella. He practically
flew through the air before crashing into the wall.

WHAM!

Well, that was that. Thought Krauser as he dropped the umbrella, which
landed on the ground with a very heavy thud.

He turned his back on the fallen boy, and walked towards the antique phone
which seemed to belong to the early twentieth century. Picking up the
receiver, he dialed the number for the front desk, he needed to get someone
to get rid of the boy's body.

"Front Desk."

"Yes� This is the penthouse, I would like to request for a housekeeper, I
need to have my room� cleaned." Said Krauser in his still extremely thick
German accent. It took the operator a moment to fully understand the
request.

"Ah, of course sir, the cleaners will be there in a few minutes."

"HOLD IT!"

Surprised yet again, Krauser turned around, still clutching the phone in his
hand.

The boy was still up, although he seemed to be a bit wobbly.

"We're�. not done �.. yet." The boy managed to mutter through gritted teeth.
Then he began to glow.

Looking at the boy calmly, Krauser put the receiver to his mouth once more.
"Operator? Could you send that housekeeper in around� ten minutes? Thank
you."

With that Krauser put down the phone. "Interesting, boy, you are much
stronger than I originally thought." He took a quick glance at the wall
clock, then turned his attention back to the glowing boy. "I realize that
you are probably using your strongest chi attack. Usually, I would play
around a bit, but I haven't the time now. I'm expecting a visitor any
minute. So you'll forgive me if I also use my strongest technique, I am in a
hurry."

"AAAARRRGGGHHHH!!!" Shouted the boy in fury, his eyes were also glowing now,
his chi crackling all around his body, hinting at the power that lay
underneath.

The German continued to just smile, as he put up his arms in front of him,
his hands in a chopping position. They were like knives, glinting in the
sunlight, as these hands also began to glow with an ethereal light.

The boy's energy reached its zenith, and cupping his hands in front of him,
he thrust them forward, towards the huge German in front of him, releasing
the blackish chi with a shout of "Shishihokodan!!"

 The energy ball moved forward like a bullet, it's passage over some parts
of the hotel room actually causing some of the antiques to either pop from
the heat or simply melt.
It swept towards Krauser, who had not changed his stance even when the boy
had launched his chi attack. He was unperturbed. He was even smiling.

"KAISER WAVE!"

That was the last thing Ryouga heard before everything went black.

***********

Outside the penthouse, one could see the splendor of upper class downtown
Tokyo. The sheer architectural beauty of the Royal hotel was amazing. Its
beauty was even enhanced by the various glowing lights of the city at night,
which was reflected by the many windows in the upper floors of the hotel,
particularly the penthouse floor.

 In the car entrance to this hotel, a black limousine arrives, disgorging
its passenger. One rather dashing looking man, dressed in a white suit, with
a black overcoat draped over him. He was wearing spectacles that seemed to
enhance his lean, angular face. He also had a black walking stick which
identified him as a man of culture. He adjusted his white gloves and brushed
back his lustrous, silvery hair that reached to his neck before moving
towards the doorway to the hotel. Halfway there, he stopped and took a quick
glance up towards the penthouse.

"Sir?" Asked one of the men in black suits, who were his escorts. "Is there
something wrong?"

The man in white didn't answer.

Suddenly there was a massive, ear-deafening explosion from the penthouse,
all the windows on that floor were shattered, sending the glass shards down
towards the ground far below. Some of the people in that area instinctively
covered their heads, while others dived for cover.

The man in the white suit simply looked at the oncoming rush of
sharp-looking shards of glass with no apparent concern. One of the other men
in a black suit was shouting at him to seek cover. The man in white ignored
him.

Just as the shards were about to hit him,  he made his move.

Grabbing his walking stick at its midpoint, he raised it above his head and
twirled it quickly, so quickly that his overcoat fluttered a bit from the
vacuum it caused.  The glass shards that had been heading for him struck his
spinning walking stick and were sent hurtling away. If one looked closely
enough, one could see a slight shimmer of light surrounding the walking
stick.

The massive onrush of glass hit the ground with a myriad of sounds. Ranging
from rough crashes to soft tinkles and even to sharp and painful sounding
klchaks as they pierced human skin.

But none of those glass shards touched the man in white.

He was inside the hotel lobby now, calmly walking towards the elevator,
ignoring all the chaos and confusion around him as hotel guests panicked
while the hotel personnel called the authorities and tried to calm the
guests. Others were trying desperately to help those wounded by the glass
shards, included among the wounded were the man in white's escorts, those
men who were in black suits.

Screams of pain and wailing could be heard everywhere.

The silver haired man in white was shaking his head as he made his way
towards the elevator, his spit-shined black shoes and walking stick making
an odd tapping accompaniment to the cacophony of noise all around.

Getting on the elevator, he pressed the P button for the penthouse. As the
elevator doors closed, he was still shaking his head.

"Uncle, uncle," he murmured to himself. "When will you ever learn to control
yourself?"

*************

Krauser was once again sipping tea, calmly looking at the excellent view of
the city that the now windowless hotel room suite offered him. He looked at
the view below him and saw the running river besides his hotel room. He idly
wondered if the boy survived his Kaiser wave, or if he was dead and simply
floating in the river now, for he presumed that was where he fell after the
attack. He thought about it a second,  and realized that he didn't know that
Tokyo even HAD a river.

Shrugging that particular thought off, he took a quick look around his
ruined hotel room and calculated the damages he would have to pay for his
little playtime. He really should try to be a little more careful next time.
But he did need to let off some steam. Oh well.

 Wolfgang sensed a familiar presence behind him, and turned, glad that for
once, he was not caught unaware. In his line of business, that could prove
fatal.

Krauser saw one of his men, holding his bloody left arm, arrive through the
broken door.

"Sir,"  he said through gritted teeth. "Your visitor is here."

Nodding to the man, Krauser walked forward, "Get someone to clean up this
place and get me a new room."

"Yes sir."

Walking out the damaged door, he caught sight of the man in white.

"Nephew!" said Krauser in Japanese as he moved towards the him, his usually
somber expression now changed to a look of pure pleasure.

"Uncle." Replied the man in white with a slight smile, as he accepted the
German's bonecrushing  hug.

"You are late." Proclaimed Wolfgang, his brow furrowed.

"Sorry, but the plane was delayed, someone tried to kill me again," he
replied, "Besides, your little stunt earlier also delayed me a bit."

"That was only because you were so late, and try to remember not to talk
back to your elders, hhhmmm?"

"Sigh� Ok, ok, so where is this fellow who defeated father? This� Terry
Bogard."

Krauser's eyebrows shot up as he realized where he had heard the Tendo Dojo
that the fanged boy had mentioned earlier. "In this place called� the Tendo
Dojo. According to my sources, that's where Terry Bogard is."

*************
HACHOO!

Terry rubbed his nose after he sneezed yet again. That must have been the
umpteenth time that he sneezed in the past few minutes already. At the rate
he was going, there was no way he was getting any sleep at all anymore.

I wonder who's talking about me? Thought Terry as he shook his head, trying
to fully wake up.

End prologue



"Take care."
                -Kerchak (Tarzan)

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