The King of Fighters XII/Character Stories

This page includes English translations for the character stories found on the Japanese official website for KOF XII.

Ash Crimson
https://game.snk-corp.co.jp/official/kof-xii/character/ash_profile.html

The boy has nothing.

There has been nothing so far, and probably nothing afterwards. Most of what people think is his property are not his own.

At least, that's what the boy himself thinks so.

With no dreams, no hopes, and no passion, the boy, with a slight sneering chill from knowing all, is called Ash Crimson.

Even that name, to the boy, is not his own. He was called that upon realization, but it wasn't one that he made for his own.

On the other hand, if you ask him how he wants to be called then, how he wants to introduce himself, the boy Ash does not have the answer. For him, even his name is nothing but trivial-

――Or so Duo Lon imagines without permission. Realizing that this assumption is misguided, he shakes his head.

The boy is always mysterious.

That at least, is the truth.

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The boy always appeared out of nowhere.

Looking back, the first time they met was when upon noticing, the boy already being right next to him. Next to Duo Lon, who in search of the man who had betrayed his clan, who had been wandering alone; the boy had snuck in, as if he belonged there. In a sense, it's selfish, and wayward.

Strangely though, there was just something about him that made all that behavior acceptable.

"Is something wrong?" From the opposite side of the table, Shen notices the paper thin smile upon Duo Lon's lips midst drink, and grins. There are already two empty bowls lying about, each about the size of a child's head, but his face betrays no trace of alcohol.

"No--I just thought he was late. ''

"Ash, huh. Damn brat, what's he doing when he's the one that called us over?" Complaining like that, Shen starts gnawing on the Shanghai crab offered by the stall owner.

Shen also is not a man who's normally accompanied by others. It's only thanks to that bizarre catalyst called Ash between them, why he's managing to exchange drinks with Duo Lon like this.

Duo Lon doesn't know much about the encounter between Ash and Shen. Even if he asks, they'll never give a straight answer anyway. But he doesn't think there's much of a difference to his own. Upon notice, the boy'd have already secured his position right next to the older man, and then, as if it was quite natural, would have been eating sweets or trimming his nails without a care in the world--probably.

Ash often showed a very familiar attitude towards the two, but that didn't mean he was allowed to. It was the same for him and Shen as well. In short, they were all lone wolves. Not liking to rely or be relied on. And by chance, the three of them had met, on these busy streets of Shanghai.

It's closer than 'acquaintances', but not so close that it can be expressed in terms of a 'friend'--Duo Lon himself considers their relationship to have that subtle distance.

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While Duo Lon had been tilting back the old cheap shot glass, slowly sipping the thirty-year-old aubergine, Shen had already emptied three entire bowls. The crucial Ash hasn’t appeared yet. It's already 8 o'clock at night, but the jumbled liveliness of the back streets of Shanghai only seems to fill up even more.

Duo Lon leaves a few bills on the table, and stands up.

“What are you doing? Going back?”

"Mm."

Smoothing the robe’s long hems, he gives a light nod. Having lived in a distant place from civilization, Duo Lon wasn’t a fan of loud confusion. “―It doesn’t seem like Ash will appear tonight anyhow. When he said 7:00, it might have meant 7:00 tomorrow morning, not tonight."

"Hah? What’s that supposed to mean, I definitely heard it’s around here at seven tonight! ''

“It’s surprising you trust that scamp’s words to that extent. ''

"You saying the bastard told me the wrong time on purpose?”

“If it’s Ash, it’s possible.”

“Heh.” Again ordering another round of aged alcohol, Shen brings a wild grin to his lips. “Can’t be helped then. Guess I’ll be here drinking straight to morning.”

“Careful about hangovers if you can.”

Promising to meet again at this place at 7:00 tomorrow morning, Duo Lon begins to walk.

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At one point, Duo Lon had asked Ash. "Ash, what are you trying to do? What are you fighting for? ''

To those questions, Ash did not answer. Instead, looking up at the sky, "Being free sure is nice."

"Huh? What are you talking about? A brat like you that does whatever he wants; you're always free."

"Aha ha ha ha♪ Not as much as Shen, though."

-Trying to figure out the heart of a freckled boy, smiling under the blue sky.

Immediately remembering how useless that task was, Duo Lon shook his head with a bitter smile. He thought he had a rather good eye for people, but even for him, the boy, Ash Crimson, was too difficult to understand.

Perhaps, a boy that no one can understand.

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It's hard to read the boy's truth, but this time, Duo Lon had been correct.

At 7:00 the next morning, as Duo Lon stands quietly in the morning sun-lit alley, along with a Shen, who's massaging his temples with a scowl, the boy appears, humming quite happily. "Bonjour, you two. You came early."

"This damn guy...It really was 7:00 in the morning..!"

"Oh? Have you been waiting since 7:00 last night?" Breaking his freckled face with a mischievous smile, Ash shrugs. " Hmm...The phone line must have been in poor condition. ''

"You bastard..." Rather than any more words, Shen inhales a can of beer.

"Oh? A wake-up drink?"

"Course I 'm drinking. Not only did I have to wait a bunch, you had to come along with some useless baggage.''

Without having to listen to Shen’s complaints, Duo Lon also has noticed. Suddenly, all around the three of them are suspicious men. There, of course, is no way they’re simple passerby. Every single one of them has an aura of murder, with some of them already even pulling out knives. Maybe having sensed this shady air, the alley is frozen with a cold silence, no one attempting to step outside.

“...This has nothing to do with me.” Duo Lon leans against the old building wall, folding his arms.

“I don’t know either. Looks like some old Yakuza. Sorta related to Shen maybe?” These men have obviously followed Ash, but it’s that same Ash who’s laughing as if this is someone else’s business. “-See, didn’t Shen fight very nicely around the port sometime back? Maybe it’s payback.”

“You're really going to say that? It definitely was a party, but you’re the one who threw the first punch! I just got swept in.”

“Huh? Now I think of it-”

Before Ash’s bluff could even end, the men strike all in unison. Not only Ash, but Shen and he also seem to be targets as well.

“...Really, I never get a chance to be bored with you around, Ash!”

“I’m not involved...but it’s useless to say that now it seems.”

After knocking out the very front-runner with a counter strike, Duo Lon runs to the building’s roof with a kick of the wall. Unlike the any-combat-loving Shen, he doesn’t like useless fights. Besides, for these level of thugs, only one of the remaining two will be enough.

Lightly descending on the rusty railing of the rooftop, Duo Lon calmly watches the fight in the alley below. In the pale darkness, vivid flames of green dance, scattering tiny sparks. As if mocking their weakness, Ash takes down the men one after another with a cool smile.

The spirited, merciless variant of a flame-

Someday, Duo Lon thinks vaguely, there might be a time where he has to face those green flames directly.

Terry Bogard
https://game.snk-corp.co.jp/official/kof-xii/character/terry_profile.html

Few things can be solved with a fist.

It's a twist of fate then, because when Terry Bogard noticed that fact, it was when Terry was about to get stronger than anyone else. "To avenge my stepfather, I need power" To that end, he had wandered the world and honed his fist.

But as Terry got stronger, he could truly feel that the world didn’t have much to do with simple force at all.

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“ … Even if I'm called the Legendary Wolf, ‘s not like I can turn stone into bread by giving it a good punch.” Terry nodded, staring at the hot dog in front of him.

“--Did you say something, Mr. Terry?” Bob, scrubbing the counter, cocks his head at Terry's grumblings.

"Nothing much. " He shrugs, then bites into the hot dog.

Many martial artists and their fans flock to this Pao Pao Café No. 2, in search of a hot fight. Terry is one of those regulars, but he rarely pays for the meals. The manager, Bob, either puts it on the house or it gets put on Terry's tab. In the end, most of them are free. The reason why all of this is forgiven, is probably because Terry is the fighter who can attract the most guests in South Town. Whether Terry is visiting or not, that alone will completely change the number of customers.

"Yo!" While Terry is chatting up Bob, a man approaches, sporting a colorful Mohican hairstyle. “What's up, Terry? Going to focus on the gallery today?

"Hey, Duck." Duck King, who had unilaterally declared Terry as his lifelong rival, is also a staple of this bar. Having both faces of a dancer and a martial artist, Duck's fighting style has always been a brilliant display, conscious of the crowd's eyes. In a sense, he’s a man who is able to captivate more people than Terry himself.

"Richard’s being grumpy. '' Taking a seat next to him, Duck talks loudly right to Terry's ear, not to be overwhelmed by the bright Latin music echoing in the store. "You haven' t dropped by recently, so the sales dipped big time."

"Lot of unpaid tab on Richard's place, makes it hard to visit."

"Wow, Mr. Terry, didn't know you're a good person who won't do things like putting tabs on this place! '' Bob gives Terry a knowing smile. Terry, who has in fact collected quite a bit of tab at this second store here as well, is forced to make a bitter smile.

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Few things can be solved with a fist.

However, there are many clumsy humans in this world who do not understand each other unless using those fists.

Terry thinks he is that typical type.

In fact, Duck, who once treated Terry as an enemy, has now become someone that can be called a friend after exchanging multiple fists. Joe, who he’d first gotten to know after coming back to South Town, then Richard and Mary at KOF, and Bob as well.

He has gained many friends through these fights. Rather, it can be said that he has far fewer acquaintances irrelevant to these struggles. The fist, polished to repay his stepfather's foe, is now also a useful means of communication, surpassing words, to the now strong and matured Terry.

Few things can be solved with a fist.

However, there are certain things that you can't get without using fists.

That was Terry's answer.

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Duck, who’s been macking away at a big pizza, catches Terry trying to order another beer. “―Hey Terry, you really just going to keep watching? That stage down there, it's burning for the Legendary Wolf to show up!"

"No use praising me by using that title."

For someone like, as an example, old man Tung; Terry’s teacher, it wouldn’t be strange for a title like 'legend' to follow. Knowing which fight to take, and being above the earthly struggles; that’s the stuff of legends.

However, Terry is different.

He knows that as a fighter, he’s still growing. Not immature, but not enough to be called a legend honestly. Besides, 'legend' makes it sound like he's gone into retirement.

“I 'm still active. '' Terry steps down from the stool, with moves that don' t betray a trace of alcohol. He puts on his favorite hat.

“Oh? You finally up for a fight? ”

“If so, I 'll take you on for the night. ''

"Wait a minute, manager." To Bob coming from behind the counter, loosening his bow tie in one hand, Duck says with a fearless smile. "―Actually, I was asked by Richard to bring Terry over, even with a dog collar if I have to. So let me have this. ''

"What are you talking about?"

“Say, shouldn't you settle that tab by now? If you don't have money, you can always work it off …  Well, let's say free shifts for about a week?"

"Selling out your friend, huh? ''

"You're in the bad here for not paying! You lose, you come to Richard's with me quietly, okay?"

Duck fought back against Terry 's increasing criticisms with a thrust of a finger, straight to the tip of Terry's nose. "Stage and gallery are set, you're not gonna run away now, are you? ''

"Who 's running?  Terry, slipping on his stepfather's gloves, smiles crookedly. "…If I win then, how about calling today's meal your treat, huh Duck?

As Terry and Duck appear together downstairs, a loud shout rings out between the galleries.

None of them don't know the name of Terry Bogard. Rather, you can say that they're all just big Terry fans, gathering every night to see his fights.

Terry looks around as he gets ready. "...Engine's a go, think I can go far enough to hit my limit now."

"Terry, you say something?”

“I 'm worried about meeting the gallery's expectations. Shouldn't have drank that beer. ''

" It's no use regretting now!  At the same time Bob rings the gong, signalling the start of the match, Duck jumps out, as if shot out of a cannon. Like a spring, he leaps at Terry with a weighted knee kick.  "Lovin 'you!"''

"Ugh..!" Terry blocks the strike with both hands and throws Duck to the ground by the scruff of his neck. "Hey! Come on, Duck!  This game’s already begun!”

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Legendary Wolf or South Town hero.

It doesn't matter what nickname people call him.

What's important for Terry, is that he is very fond of this slightly barbaric style of communication.