The fist withdraws back into the dark hole it made and the words:BOARD FIGHTERS II come flying out!

Egypt, night time…

The street in a part of the city of Cairo was deserted. It seemed devoid of life save for a bar that was located near the corner of the street market. Sounds of music, people cheered, glasses tinkled, and money clanked on the table could be heard from a couple of windows that allowed the dim lights shone out.

A quite distinct man sat with other five men. All of them held a set of cards and each had a glass of different kinds of alcoholic beverages and a pile of plastic chips. The man did not look like the locals who were currently gambling with him. He was wearing a white silk shirt, a pair of grey pants, and a pair of black and white Nike sneakers.

A glass of his favorite drink, Bloody Mary was set in front of him beside a pile of plastic chips. Looking at his and the other players piles, it was obvious that this man was winning. El ‘Diablo’ Pablo looked at his card and inwardly sighed. He knew he was going to win this round and most likely this game, again.

He was bored out of his head. There were hardly any challengers for him either in game of cards or fight. Sure, there was Vega the psychotic masochist and self-lover, the occasional bickering and fights helped to improve his moods, but only a little. He needed true challenges. The excavation of the pyramid promised something challenging for him, but he still needed to wait for at least a week to be able to enter the pyramid.

He also waited for the Champion Fist tournament that would start in another two months. He should find interesting challengers there. “Especially with that beautiful girl.” Thought Pablo, remembering a certain girl from Puerto Rico.

He looked at the other players, some were fidgeting, while the others tried to fake what is called ‘poker face’ among cards player. He smirked inwardly. He knew he was going to win this round.

The front door was suddenly opened, revealing a young man that looked about in his late twenties or early thirties. He had an Asian looks, probably Chinese or Japanese. A line of soft moustache adorned his handsome face. He wore what looked like a set of tourist clothing, a thin colorful Hawaiian shirt, white short pants, and a pair of white socks and sneakers. A cheap tourist at that, thought Pablo.

The young man looked about his surrounding for a while before walking toward the bar. He sat on one of the empty stools and ordered a drink. The bartender came back a short time later with a glass of red wine and set down the glass.

Pablo turned his attention back to the game. He looked at the other players, two of them already folded. He looked at the other three and nodded, signaling that he was ready to show his cards. The other three players nodded and opened their cards. One was a flash and the other two held a straight set each. Pablo grinned and opened his cards, soft curses and audible groans could be heard as a set of four kings and a diamond queen cards were revealed. Pablo took the chips on the center pile and combined them into his own.

The door of the bar swung opened and revealed about six angry-looking big men. The men looked about the bar with the intensity of preying birds among corpses. Their sights stopped at a certain man on the bar and they started to walk that way.

Pablo noted some trouble for the young Asian and fights would probably ensue. He downed his Bloody Mary in a gulp while waiting for the card dealers shuffling and dealing the cards.

One of the men placed a hand on the young Asian left shoulder and spoke some words. The young man turned to face them and smile while talking to them. The talking did not seem to work as Pablo noted that the six men grew angrier as the conversation proceeded.

One of the six men suddenly pulled a hand and was ready to launch at the youth. Face was the likely target. But just about a few milliseconds before the flying fist made contact, the man was already pushed back by the youth’s seemingly effortlessly kick.

Another of the group of six men reacted, trying to tackle the youth, but he was soon slid into the bar as his target evaded the tackle while launching a right jab to the first of his attackers.

The chaos was added with patrons fighting with other patrons, joining the spirit of fighting that was started by the newcomers. The youth evaded an attack and slid expertly near to Pablo’s table. He sidestepped a tackle and launched a knee attack on the attacker’s midsection, followed with a shove to the ground.

Two attackers came at him, but the young man was quicker. He kicked an attacker on the jaw and spun three hundred and sixty degree and landed his heel on the other attacker’s jaw.

Another two came at him from behind. One held a broken bottle and the other had a knife ready. As they attacked, the young man sidestepped the attacks and casually flipped a chair at the one holding a broken bottle. The chair hit his attacker on the jaw and he was down for count. The attacker with knife swung at him, but the youth just step back and expertly kick the attacker’s hand. The knife fell with the attacker’s courage. A side kick on the stomach and left cheek each and he was down with his knife.

The youth noted Pablo rising to his feet with a bottle on his right hand and was ready to throw it. He set into his fighting stance and Pablo threw the bottle. The bottle flew but surprisingly not at the youth’s direction. It flew past his left side and hit a sneaking attacker cleanly on his forehead.

The young man turned to see the sneaky attacker fell on the floor. He turned back to see Pablo gave a two-finger salute and smile at him. The young man grinned back at Pablo. He ran toward Pablo and launched a flying kick to a man who tried to attack Pablo from behind.

Pablo turned and saw one of his card player companions flying to the wall. He exchanged grateful looks and smile with the young man. “Well, I’ll be. It seems that I owe you one.”

The young man shook his head. “We owe nothing to each other.” He looked around the chaotic bar and said to Pablo. “What say you if we find a more quiet bar?”

“I won’t argue with that.” Said Pablo.

The two of them walked out the bar, casually avoiding a few wild hits and stuffs thrown around. When they were out of the bar, the young man turned to Pablo and extended his hand. “Ah, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Charlie Wen. And you are?”

Pablo took the hand and noted the strength in the grip. “I am El Pablo. Nice to meet you, Wen.”

“The pleasure is mine, Pablo,” Said Wen as he let go. “Now, do you know other quieter bar around here?”

Pablo grinned. “Well, not too quiet maybe, but they do have nice view and drinks in there.”

“View as in girls?” Asked Wen, grinning. “Lead the way then, my friend.”

SAN FRANCISCO

Luke made it back to his penthouse apartment on Main Street. He flopped his bottom on the green sofa couch and propped his feet up onto the coffee table. He was also still reeling from today's little scuttle in the park.

"Man, just what was with that woman and her damn squirrel?" he thought. "And what did she want with me?"

Luke then reached into the inner side pocket of his jogging jacket and took out the envelope that was given to him.

He emptied out the contents and looked them over. Inside the envelope were a pair of plane tickets and a letter of registration to come to the Champion of Fists Tournament.

The yellow piece of paper read:
"YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO COME TO THE MARTIAL ARTS EVENT OF A LIFETIME: THE CHAMPION OF FISTS MARTIAL ARTS TOURNAMENT! ALL YOU NEED DO IS REGISTER AND FIGHT YOUR WAY TO THE FINALS. THE TOURNAMENT IS LOCATED AT THIS ADRESS IN SAN FRANSCISCO...

Luke looked over the address and a smile crept on his face.

"Alright!" he said as he rose. "This is the chance I’ve been waiting for! I betcha anything that Ken and Guile will be there! And if that crazy ass bimbo is there, I’m gonna kick all their cans to the moon! I'll do a few more days of training and then head out to the venue."

Luke then changed into a pair of white and red boxing shorts, wrapped his fists and feet with white bandage wrappings, placed a pair of blue boxing gloves on and entered his little training room.

It had a weights set, and several punching bags that hung from the ceiling. Luke tapped his gloves together.

"Just you wait guys 'n' gals," he said. "Luke Blaze is coming back at ya!"

Luke then began to slam his boxing gloves and feet into the sandbag with many hard blows. Little did he know, he was to be the first of many to be lured into a great and deadly game.
 

METRO CITY

It had been a long time since the latest heir to the Bushinryyu style fought it out with Bison and his Shadowloo forces. Since then, he along with Haggar and the others have defended Metro City from other forces of crime and evil.

But he knew in his gut he was to face this evil again and whatever threat that was to go along with it. He rose from the green mat he sat upon and went to the front door of his dojo.

Looking down, he saw several letters of mail that were dropped through his mail slot.
Rifling through them, he saw one letter that caught his eyes the most. It was a plain white envelope that was sealed with an all-too familiar stamp symbol.

A symbol of a skull with wings. It was the symbol of Shadaowloo!

"WHAT IS THIS?" said Guy aloud as he tore into the envelope.

The envelope contained a plane ticket to Hawaii and a note of registration and announcement. It said details and location of where this tournament would be located and what it was called.

Guy wasn't fooled at all by the announcement of this Champion of Fists tournament. He knew by the looks of the Shadowloo symbol that it was another of Bison's mad schemes.

"And it looks like I’ve been picked once again to compete in his sick games. Well, if that's the case, I’ll head out to this contest---and crush that monster once and for all! I just hope Rose has been informed as well."

Guy then went into his training room and began to train and strengthen his Bushin skills.

Meanwhile, outside the dojo in a nearby alley, an agent dressed in darkness spoke to the master through a cell phone.

"He has taken the bait, so to speak my lord." said the man.

"Excellent." said a voice on the other end. "Return to HQ and await further orders."

"Yes sir." said the agent.

HONG KONG

Shing stood before the martial arts dojo, took a deep breath, went up to the front gates, and entered. He walked through the green grass of the front yard and came upon the entrance hall that led to the reception area.

He saw that no one was there, but heard some voices in the next room over.

"I---guess I spoke too much there earlier, huh Sifu?" said Linda.

"You must learn to think things through before speaking and acting, young one." said Gen. "But rest assured, Chun-Li will be all right, and she and her beloved Ryu will rescue their beloved Iwa in time."

Suddenly, they heard someone clearing their throat and saw a tall man standing before them.

"Master Gen?" he said.

"Correct, and you are?" said Gen.

Shing bowed.
"My name is Shing Tao. I am but a retired businessman and philanthropist...but I am in dire need as of this time. And I wish for your assistance in learning about a group that--recently decided to harass me."

"A group?" said Gen. "What sort of group?"

Shing reached into his pants pocket and threw to the floor the winged symbol he tore off of the thief he killed.

"Shadowloo!" said Gen. "I might've known."

"Yes, that is the--name on the patch I--discovered when I chased after the thieves I found in my home." said Shing. "I--tore it off, in the ensuing confusion."

"Shadowloo?" said Linda. "Oh, yeah they’re the ones this Bison guy is the boss of."

"Yes, they are more than just a society of thieves," said Gen. "they have committed many atrocities around the world. Ryu, Chun-Li and myself have had many encounters with their kind."

"Yes well…," said Shing. "…would you mind telling me where else I could find these--ruffians, Master Gen? And maybe, the manpower to do so?"

"Hmmm?" said Gen. "You wish to combat these villains yourself?"

"Well no, not entirely," said Shing. "I also have much wealth and many resources at my disposal. And if you could tell me who or what this--'Bison' fellow is, I could greatly compensate you for your troubles."

"I have no need of money." said Gen. "The dojo is doing perfectly at this time."

"Yeah, thanks but no thanks." said Linda. "As for Bison himself, you could ask my friends, Chun-Li and Ryu."

"Oh, and where might they be?" said Shing.
"In the back room for the time being." said Linda. "They don't really wish to be disturbed right now, but… they should be back shortly, if you wish to sit down somewhere--."

"I'll stand milady." said Shing. "I won’t be long."

He then thought: "Hmmm...Bison eh? Must be the ringleader of this cartel, this is getting to be easier than I thought."

Meanwhile back in the other room…

Ryu continued to sooth Chun-Li. "We'll find her again, Chun-Li." said Ryu. "I promise you."

"I know Ryu, it's just--." said Li. "--oh, when will we ever be rid of that evil scumbag bastard? We should've been rid of him so long ago!"

"Evil such as his doesn't die so easily." said Ryu. "But even he can't live forever, we'll put an end to him once and for all--I SWEAR IT! Just pray that Iwa is all right."

"I will." said Li. "Come on, we'd better get back to Gen and Linda.

Little did either one knew about the encounter they were about to face.

TOKYO, JAPAN

Reno Tseng had just exited from the hotel he and Cana Verdandi were staying in and decided to go downtown for some fresh air and to clear his head. He hailed a cab driver and had him take him to the nearest clubs and dives.

Once there, he got out, tipped the driver and walked about through the parking lots, looking at the night sky.

"Damn that Bison---!" he thought. "I know I hold a great hatred for him, yet he insists it is not of my own. Either way, I must find a way to free myself of his slimy hold or I’ll never be truly whole or alive!"

Suddenly, still lost in his thoughts, he accidentally bumped into someone.
"Hey, watch where yer goin' chump!" said a voice in front of him.
"Eh..?" said Reno as he looked up.

Standing before him was a eight foot tall biker punk of pure muscle wearing a black leather vest jacket, torn blue jeans and boots and a dark crew cut with a hard and ugly face of stone.

Behind him was a group of biker punks dressed in similar get-ups, standing next to their motorcycles.

"Oh, what have here?" said Reno.

"What's it look, red?" said the tall punk.

"The name's Akida, and I’m the leader of the Razor Sais, the toughest bike gang in Tokyo...and you just bumped into me--and thoughtlessly I might add."

"Uhmm...so?" said Reno.

"So--so?" said Akida. "So--you either excuse yourself and be off with ya--or I cream your ass till no one recognizes it!"

Reno smirked at the unruly punk, he wasn't the least bit intimidated by the thug's size or appearance.

"Ha, you think I’m gonna apologize to a lowlife like you---you're freakin’ 'nuts!" said Reno.

"WHAT?" said Akida, his heavy brow wrinkled and his nostrils flared in rage at the young man's attitude.

"Now, why don't ya let me through, and we'll call it even?" said Reno.

"Oooo--he's dead man." said one of the bikers.

"Ya got that right, starting now!" said Akida as he grabbed Reno by the top of his shirt and lifted him up.

"You shouldn't have done that." said Reno still smirking.

"And why not?" said Akida.

"This is why." said Reno.

The rock star/fighter reached up and placed his left hand right Akida's own left wrist, and before he knew it, a lethal charge of blue white electricity charged right through the giant's body, shocking him full blast.

"ZZZZZZT!"

"AAAARRRRRRRRGHH!" cried Akida.

Once it was over, Akida let loose of Reno and there stood the biker leader, his entire body and appearance was blotched with black stains and he was shaking violently from the shock he just absorbed.

"You should be so lucky I didn't go full blast this time." said Reno. "I'm not in much of a killing mode tonight anyways."

Akida simply fell backwards and hit the pavement with a loud thud and was out cold.

"HEY, DID YA SEE WHAT HE DID TO AKIDA?" said another of the hoods.
"YEAH, LET'S KICK HIS ASS TO THE MOON!" said another of the punks.

The group of bikers began to brandish their weapons. Some carried switchblades,
some chains, some chrome knuckles, some blackjacks and others nunchukas.

"Oh my..."said Reno. "The lions are showing their fangs."

"When we're through with ya, you'll wish you were in a den of lions!" said another of the punks.

"GET'IM!"

The group of bikers charged at Reno.

Reno smiled wickedly as he made his next move.
He jumped into the air and came flying down at the nearest biker thug with a Snipe kick.

"KRAKK!"

The thug's head was snapped backwards with an electrified kick.

Once he was back on the ground, Reno went at the rest of them like a wild dog taking on a pack of cats.

Another punk with a crowbar rushed at Reno and swung his weapon at him.
Reno ducked it and then did a Discharge move.

He slammed a quick cross punch, a quick front snap kick and an uppercut streaked with electricity that sent the punk flying into the air.

The next three punks charged at him, mad as hell.

"This'll take 'em out!" said Reno as he charged up some electric energy with his right hand behind his back.

And once they got close enough, he unleashed it by doing a fast dash and knocked them all down and out with a huge blast of shock energy.

They were all down for the count.

"YEAH--I ROCK!" said Reno.
He then used his electric energy to create a makeshift guitar and began to jam on it.

Suddenly, one of the punks he thought he took out with his discharge sneaked towards him and whipped out a small pistol.

"YOU'RE DEAD FREAK-ASS!" he said as he took aim.

Suddenly, just as he opened fire, a wall of flame suddenly came between the punk and Reno, deflecting the bullet.

"What the hell?" said the punk.

He then opened fire again, but just as he fired the next shot, the bullet came right back at him.

"ZING!"

"GLLKK!"

The punk fell to the ground and breathed his last, he was dead.

The wall of flame suddenly faded away and there standing before Reno was Cana herself, dressed in her usual attire of silver trench coat and red jeans.

"Cana!" said Reno surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same, Reno." said the silver haired beauty. “But seriously, I decided to go out for some air, and maybe a drink."

Reno saw the bar club that they were near.

"Uhmmm… you wanna go for a drink?" he said.

"Might as well, since we're here." said Cana smiling.

"You didn't have to save me you know, I would've seen it coming." he said.

"Yeah, sure you would have." said Cana. "Look, just buy us a drink and we'll call it even."

Reno laughed. "You got it."

The two clones then went for the bar together.

WASHINGTON DC.D

Riq drove towards his intended destination,the headquarters of the Special Forces unit called FOXHOUND.

"Why do these things always happen to me?"he thought. "I just wanna be left in peace."

He had never been the same man he was since his father was killed,he just..shut down almost all emotional systems to almost everyone in his life.

He was also still reeling from yesterday's events,his grandmaster badly injured,and his old friend and student Victoria had disappeared without a trace,save for a supposed trip to San Fransisco.

Riq was also not too thrilled about having to work for a man he wished no further contact with,his old boss known as--'SNAKE'.
But he vowed that he would get to the bottom of this once and for all,and make those responsible,pay dearly.

He was driving a rental car down through some highways and bi-ways until he came to a specially marked road that led through a forest.

Once he got to the end of the road,he went up to a certain bush,and waved his hand over it.
Suddenly,a red light shown out of it and a beeping noise was heard.

"PALM IDENTIFICATION CONFIRMED."spoke an electronic voice. "WELCOME BACK ENRIQUE PIERANTONI."
Riq then looked over at the cluster of trees before him open up from side to side,to reveal,a secret armored bunker that led to an underground hq.

Riq walked towards it,and knocked on the front door.'

Once the door opened,he was greeted by an MP officer.

"Are you here on business,sir?"he asked.

"Yeah,i'm here to see the Snake."said Riq.
"RIght this way."said the MP.

Riq followed the officer down a dark and metallized hallway and they came upon a door that was marked Snake.

The MP went up to a small intercom and spoke into it.

"Commander Snake,Mr.Pierantoni is here."said the MP.
"Good,send him in."said a voice over the phone.

The man will see you now."said the MP and he left off back towards the post.

Riq went up to the metal door,squeezed the front handle and the door hissed open.

Once inside,he found himself before wide desk and briefing room.

There was a long and wide table across from the desk that sat on the other side,and there at the desk was a man sitting at it,and looking over some reports.

"Welcome back Riq,"said the man. "Sit down."

Riq shrugged and sat down in the left side sofa chair that was placed in front.

The man placed down the report and revealled his face.

He had a medium build and wore a dark blue business suit.
His face was old and aged with experience with a greying bears and hair and wore a black patch over his left eye.

He was the notorious leader of the Foxhound unit known as...SNAKE.

"Nice to see you again,Riq."said the head as he arose from his desk.
"Cut the small talk okay?"said Riq. "Let's get to the details."

"Huh,as unsociable as ever I see."said Snake. "Ya really gotta work on that Pierantoni,I hear it does terrible things to people."
"Yeah,right."said Riq as he rolled out a cigar.

"Anyways,I know this isn't a social call,it's just been awhile since you been here,and we miss your special expertise."
 

"I'm sure you do,but...what's this mission you're wanting me to deal with so intently?said Riq.

Snake went over to a large video screen that was attached to the wall,he pressed a couple of keys underneath and an image of San Franscico came up.

"Something big is said to be going down at San Fran this weekend."said Snake."A--martial arts tournament called the Champion of Fists.
 

It says it's being funded by not only the Masters and Kanzuki foundations,but others including the Umbrella corporation. We also heard in rumors and such that a terrorist cartel called Shadowloo is also behind it."

"Shadowloo?"said Riq. "Yeah...i've heard a lot about that group. Did a lot of nasty as hell things."
 

"No kidding."said Snake. "This is what we want you to do,most fighters we heard were being invited to the special event of the contest.

But we want you to enter the preliminary bouts and inflitrate whatever agents are working for Umbrella and Shadowloo."

"Really now."said Riq.
"Well,with a man of your fighting skills,I thought it'd be a real test and thrill for you to go at the opponents presented in the contest."

"Well...I gotta admit,I have been a bit rusty as of late."said Riq cracking his knuckles.
"But I also have a more personal reason for doing this."

"Whatever it may be,i'm sure you'll be see it through."said Snake. "The tournament starts a week from this saturday,I want you there and we'll outfit you with a special survillance device as well. Just make sure it doesn't get too damaged while duking it out,got it?"

"No prob."said Riq.
"Good."said Snake. "This time,Umbrella will go down for the count when we're through."

Riq then looked towards the windown nearby and was still thinking about Victoria.

"Wherever you are Vic,please be all right."he thought.