KOF: Maximum Impact 2/Prologues

This page will consist of transcriptions of the prologues included in Maximum Impact 2. Each playable character has one, unlocked by clearing story mode as that individual.

Mai Shiranui
As Mai Shiranui headed for the dojo, it had been her habit since childhood to silence her footsteps and movements. Hanzo Shiranui, her teacher in Shiranui Ninja Arts and grandfather, had told her to attack him if she caught him with his guard down. And if she was successful, he would buy her whatever she had desired at the time-- That was what he had always promised the young Mai.

Come to think of it, Mai had never stood a chance. In spite of his age, a girl of 10 or so had no chance of beating Hanzo Shiranui, master of the Ninja Arts of Shiranui and various modalities of motion. Of course this was just the hindsight of the adult Mai, but the younger Mai remained eager to beat her grandfather. Recalling he always would meditate at dusk in the dojo, it took no time to plot a surprise attack from behind at this time. But in the end Hanzo had sensed the young Mai approaching before she reached the dojo, and she had not once succeeded in surprising him, but her habit of silencing her movements and footsteps still stayed with her.

And today Mai is imperceptible as she heads for the dojo. If Hanzo were still alive, she might have won -- she thinks without conceit as she slips into the dojo and heads for the alcove and sits back and laughs silently.

As if tossing her fan, Mai pinches an envelope in her fingers and lets it fly. Just after the slight sound of it slicing the wind is audible, the frozen figure on the mat quickly spins to snag the envelope.

"Stop goofing off, Mai." Just when did he notice her? Andy Bogard, in a simple singlet, looked at Mai and giggled.

"I'm not goofing off." Slightly discouraged at her foiled attack, yet reassured by his dependable reflexes, Mai entered the dojo. "This came for you."

"An invitation to The King of Fighters, is it?" Andy heaves a sigh as he sees Mai with the same envelope. Mai plops herself down next to Andy and tilts her head curiously when she notices his expression turn grim.

"What's wrong? Naturally you're going to enter, right?"

"No, not this time."

"Huh? You're not entering. What do you mean?" Mai, who took his entry for granted, is dumbstruck at Andy's words. "Are you worried about the dojo? You do have a point with both of us taking off at the same time. But it's only once a year, right? At a time like this, both of us could join the tournament, couldn't we?"

"I'm not passing it by to watch over the dojo." Andy shakes his long blond hair and brushes it back.

"Then what is it?"

"Well." Andy smiles wryly as if put out, slaps his knees and rises. "It's because I'm still not sure I can beat my brother."

"Terry?"

"That's the one." Andy refastens the belt to his singlet and slowly moves away. He slowly assumes a simple form that is a fundamental Shiranui position and flawlessly repeats the move in silence. It's not a tough move, but the beads of sweat on his forehead make clear it's no picnic. Even as the sweat begins to cascade down his face, he ignores it and presses on. "I haven't been able to beat him even once." Having muttered this, just what was Andy fixing his gaze on? "For me the guy called Terry Bogard is just one obstacle I am obligated to clear someday."

"If that's the case-"

Andy immediately cuts off Mai, who was obviously about to convince him that KOF would be just the chance to do this. "I still can't beat him with my current strength. I may not even be in his league. Even if I did take him on, I'd only disappoint him."

So now is the time to lay low for awhile to be able to beat Terry Bogard the next time they meet- That's the message Mai got as she stood behind him and watched him train in silence. Maybe this is what masculine pride was all about.

And perhaps Mai felt a little jealousy at this time, too. Mai couldn't help feeling a tightness in her chest at Andy, as a fighter, being only fixated on Terry, but if her grandfather and father were still alive, Mai, too, would be working to surpass them. Because she understood Andy's feelings, Mai decided to not bother him any longer.

• • • • •

"Take good care of yourself." The morning Mai was packed and headed for the airport. Andy, too, would leave the dojo for the mountains during KOF. "As always, there's no guarantee this tournament is on the up and up."

"Yeah, I know. Well, I gotta be going."

"Mai."

"Yes?"

Andy suddenly took Mai's hands in his. "I'm praying for your safety." Andy's slightly awkward parting and his gentle kiss on her forehead are two things Mai will never forget.

Mr. Karate
He dreamt of the man-- A perfectly evil genius, more arrogant than anyone, who sent him reeling with his "spirit" as fierce as a whirlwind while his blond hair fluttered wildly. He and Ryo had only fought together once. And Ryo had won that time. But what left him with the feeling he had not was the fact he was covered with wounds and barely standing while the supposed loser had enough energy left to make his escape from the scene. If they had fought until either of them had run out of strength, perhaps he would not have been the victor. Ryo ruminated over that day's fight until daybreak, his eyes half open in the dim light.

In a corner of the teeming metropolis Southtown, National Park managed to remain a vast wilderness of natural beauty. It wasn't important to him if this was a remnant of the primordial past or a human reconstruction of it. This environment was just the thing he needed to get away from the big-city hustle and face his inner demons.

"Hey!" called a cheerful man's voice out of the blue while Ryo waded in the flow of the river and faced a giant waterfall in the distance as he went through his simple karate routine of slow movements that seemingly used every muscle in his body. He looked back to see a spiffy gentleman dressed in a toasty-looking leather jacket standing on the river bank. He had a backpack over one shoulder and appeared to be in the middle of a carefree getaway. Ryo gave a quizzical look as he recognized his old friend.

"You don't seem to be here by pure coincidence... Terry."

"That's right. I dropped into the dojo and heard you were in mountain seclusion." Terry shrugged as he tossed his things onto the dry grass. "--was it Marco? That man with the afro kept begging me to go a few rounds with him."

"Did he give you that bruise?"

"I gave him three times more. He looks like a grape now." Terry laughed, pressing the corners of his mouth with his hand.

"Marco lost a fight he picked? Looks like someone needs some tougher training." Ryo giggled along with Terry as he continued his routine. Terry sat on a suitably sized rock and whistled in admiration as he watched him practice.

"Always the stoic. I was kind of wondering why you haven't taken part in any competitions, but I see you've been buffing yourself up." At this, Ryo abruptly halted his movements in mid-punch.

"I've been thinking recently."

"What?"

"Maybe I've been growing a tad weaker than I used to be."

"Huh?" Terry gazed at Ryo's profile with a surprised, perhaps ticked-off look on his face. "Are you joking? How could a guy like you who devotes every day to training be getting weaker?"

"I have been training. But... Yeah, I should rephrase that. I'm not weaker than I was, maybe I was way too strong before."

"What's the difference?"

"I used to fight more fearlessly. To make a living, to raise my sister, I had to win at any cost. I was hungry to win. My eyes blazed with the desire to win." He mumbled this and gazed up at the sky that was as limpid as his own eyes. Turning his gaze to Terry, he inquired: "Don't you feel the same way?"

"... Yeah. Could be."

"But recently I've lost that feeling. I've become more philosophical, to put it in a good light, but I've lost my hunger to win. I was even surprised when I caught myself thinking even if I lost once, it's no big deal--how did I get to be so complacent?"

"If that's the case, it only proves how strong you've become. Only the weak hunger to win. The strong don't, because even if they lose, they possess the power to get right back up."

"That's one way to look at it..."

"Or it could just prove that you've become an adult." Terry rose to his feet and shoved both hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Only simple kids decide a person's value with their fists."

"That's harsh. But if that's the case, maybe I should find my hidden child and test my skill in your basic mix-up." Ryo rises up out of the water and stares Terry down from a few meters away. "I know you didn't come for a little chit-chat."

"Well, I suppose not." Terry dusts off the seat of his jeans and casually pulls out a white envelope from the pocket of his leather jacket. "I suppose you got one of these things too, didn't you?"

"Yup. I wasn't particularly interested in it, but I got one."

"Still not interested?"

"Nah--my interest's been piqued. A good thing, don't you think?" Ryo faces off with Terry at a suitable distance. "It may be a coincidence, but I had a dream about Geese last night."

"Really?"

"In the end, I only got to fight him once when I was younger."

"And you beat him. Didn't you?"

"I don't think I did. It's been eating at me all these years. I can't settle things with him now, but I hope to remove this knot in my gut... If I can win against the person who beat him twice."

"You're going to settle things with Geese through me?"

"Sorry."

"Hey, I don't care." Terry brushes the tip of his nose with his thumb and clenches his fists. Even with his long hair cut and his trademark cap in storage, his strong stance hasn't changed.

Standing before a formidable opponent, Ryo quietly inhales. He had always wanted to beat this man and confirm the true extent of his strength.

Hattori Hanzo
Daybreak. The high-pitched cry of a shrike cuts through the forest shrouded in an early morning mist. Its cries are ended with the loud thud of flesh crashing onto the moist undergrowth. Hanzo's heart jumps a little at the same sound, but he remains unfazed and stays hidden.

"Gah..." Another person expires in this dense cedar forest. --Kihachi, perhaps? Hanzo firmly clenches his ninja sword's handle as he hears his young ninja's dying gasps. Three Iga ninja have died in this forest already.

But perhaps "died" is too kind of a word for it. They have been slaughtered. --Just who is it? Hanzo wonders as he holds his breath and stays concealed.

The mission Hanzo received from the counselor was a special one--a covert investigation of members of the Imperial family. Failure was not an option, which was why Hanzo himself had embarked on this cause. Thinking back, Hanzo had made the right call. The forbidden option was about to become reality.

The enemy had been lying in wait in this forest for Hanzo and the others. Hanzo still can't tell who the enemy is, how many there are, or what their objective is. All he knows for sure is that his Iga ninja, who scattered when they sensed an ambush, are being picked off one by one by an unseen enemy.

One thing he does know is these are no ordinary warriors. Hanzo along with the others are seasoned ninja who have trained under his tutelage. All can spot ninja high in the cedar trees, slay enemies without any wasted moves, and do what samurai are unable to. --And so, too, can his enemies.

Then a certain memory flashes in his mind's eye: The passive resistance. Those clans pledging open loyalty to the Tokugawas, but secretly working against them. The family Hanzo was sent to investigate supports a ninja army sufficient to oppose Hanzo and his group. But Hanzo is disturbed by the fact the enemy is slaughtering them as if they were children.

Since he's painted the blade of his ninja sword that is drawn slightly from the mouth of the sheath, his blade does not reflect light that would give him away. Hanzo squints through the brush, ready to draw his sword at any time.

In an instant, Hanzo springs up onto a cedar tree, conceals himself, then slips into the morning mist. A cluster of blue-black flame grazes him, landing at his feet. --Katon! if he had been just a bit off, he'd have become toast with shards of bark in his back. The blast was strong enough to dry his clothes, wet from the damp air.

Next Hanzo has to make his way through extending spikes. Not arrows or dirks, but spikes. The spikes approach as if knitting their ways through the slits between the trees.

"Umph....!?" A cry involuntarily leaks from Hanzo's mouth which is covered with a mask. Suddenly drawing his ninja sword from its sheath and with a flash of his blade, he attempts to deflect the spikes, but the deflected spike heads in Hanzo's direction. --Was that a spike?! Hanzo, grabbing onto the top branch of another cedar tree, with a lightness as if walking through the air, opens his eyes and gulps hard.

On the tips of the spikes that pursued Hanzo from the brush, undulating like serpents, which he can now see returning to their original position, Hanzo counts 5 fingers and 5 talon-like short swords. Noticing the nature of the spikes, Hanzo realizes he's up against a single enemy. Concealed in the dimness of forest shrouded by mist, what cut down the Iga ninja Hanzo had led here was surely a single ninja acting alone.

At that instant, a bone-chillingly hoarse voice reverberated through the forest. "So this is the way of the Iga? ...And you seem to be the most skilled of the bunch."

"!" Hanzo looked directly above him in the direction the voice seemed to originate from. A long serpent-like hand was closing in on him. --Tricked! Hanzo kicked off from the thick branch in an attempt to evade the attack, but was caught by the ankle. As if caught in a vise, Hanzo was tugged down to the ground below.

"You are strong, I give you that... Behold!" said the man atop the tree and laughed. Crouching securely down on the branch, the man in black under his own power lifted Hanzo's body into the air with his extending right hand. His eyes glowed with a strange light as he positioned his left hand to strike at his victim. "...This is the Dark Talon." The man unleashed his punches on Hanzo who was hanging upside down. His sharp talons formed a literal giant spike which could easily pierce someone's breastbone. But Hanzo's body was caught in the bright blast of an explosion faster than it could be ventilated with hideous holes.

When the smell of gunpowder had finally been dispersed by the wind, the black shadow of Hanzo appeared in the forest restored to its former quiet. There wasn't a hint of any scorching from the blast on his body. Along with being an extremely gifted warrior, he was the most skilled in the uses of gunpowder in his village.

"......." Hanzo sighed as he looked up at the twigs on the cedars. He had resigned himself to dying with his assailant in the blast, but right before he was hit by the full force of the blast, he had vanished. Although he failed to find out his true identity, he did realize he was up against a new foe with terrifyingly other-world abilities.

"Lord Hanzo." Only two ninja had stolen up behind Hanzo. The remainder had all died at that man's hands.

"Gather the dead. After that, return to your duties."

"But..."

"There's no need for pursuit. Focus on finishing your present duties and those alone."

--We may meet up with that man again sooner than we'd hope-- Without feeling the need to voice this thought to his companions, Hanzo and his small band disappear into the darkness of the forest mist.