By now Ryu had jogged over, patting Ken's shoulder with an exasperated expression. "I told you not to be so impulsive. Mr. Cloud here isn't an enemy."
"Huh? Not an enemy?" Ken scratched his handsome golden hair, completely confused. "Then why was he giving you that 'I'm gonna beat you up' look?"
Ryu: "..."
Cloud: "..."
What a beautiful misunderstanding.
"Ahem, Mr. Ken, I presume?" Cloud cleared his throat. "I think there might be a small misunderstanding between us. I simply thought your friend, Mr. Ryu, is a highly respectable martial artist, so I wanted to... commune spiritually with him, that's all."
"Commune spiritually?" Ken's expression grew even more peculiar. He looked Cloud up and down. "Not only is your kung fu impressive, but your hobbies are pretty unique too, huh?"
Cloud: "..."
He felt there was a serious communication barrier between himself and this world's "protagonist squad."
"Alright, Ken, cut it out." Ryu intervened before his friend's thoughts could drift any further off track.
He bowed respectfully to Cloud once more.
"Mr. Cloud, my friend was rash earlier. Please forgive him. Your strength is unfathomable. Ryu is impressed."
"No worries, no worries." Cloud waved dismissively. "Nothing like a fight to make friends. Besides, your buddy here is pretty entertaining."
He looked at Ken with a smile. "Your use of flame power isn't bad. Wild, unrestrained, full of passion. It's just... a bit too scattered. Like a bonfire rather than a laser beam. If you could compress and concentrate the power more, the potency would at least double."
Ken blinked in surprise, then excitement blazed in his eyes!
He wasn't a pure "martial arts obsessive" like Ryu, but he was still a fighting genius who pursued becoming "stronger"!
Cloud's critique, though brief, was razor-sharp, pointing directly at the core issue with his current technique!
"Hey! You know your stuff!" Ken's attitude did a complete 180. He walked up enthusiastically, threw an arm around Cloud's shoulders, and said with instant familiarity:
"Name's Ken Masters! Wanna be friends? That Oniyaki you just used was sick! Let's spar again sometime! Oh, free tonight? I'll take you to the best bar in Lan Kwai Fong—my treat!"
Looking at this golden-haired pretty boy who'd been ready to fight him to the death one second and was now acting like a long-lost brother the next, Cloud was rendered speechless.
This personality was so American.
But he didn't dislike it.
"Sure." Cloud smiled. "I'm Cloud. Drinks sound good, but what I really want to know is—what are your thoughts on this Street Fighter tournament?"
He successfully steered the conversation back on track.
...
And so, through a meeting filled with "misunderstandings," "flames," and "fast and furious" energy—
Cloud successfully established initial friendly relations with the Street Fighter world's two core protagonists.
Looking at this classic duo before him—one calm as a mountain dressed in white, one passionate as fire dressed in red—
Cloud's heart swelled with anticipation.
This upcoming "Street Fighter" tournament was shaping up to be even more interesting than he'd imagined!
...
Three days later. Hong Kong Coliseum.
This modern venue, normally used for concerts and sporting events, had been transformed into a fighting arena brimming with violent aesthetics.
At the center of the venue stood an enormous octagonal ring, forged from the sturdiest alloys, capable of withstanding superhuman-level impacts.
Above the ring hung four massive LED screens capable of 360-degree viewing, ensuring that even spectators in the "nosebleed seats" could clearly see the "pained expressions" on the fighters' faces.
The audience area was packed to capacity—a sea of humanity.
Fighting enthusiasts from around the world, news media, betting company representatives, and ordinary spectators who'd just come for the show filled every available seat.
Camera flashes twinkled like stars, rising and falling. The deafening roar of the crowd threatened to blow the coliseum's roof off.
This was no longer merely a fighting competition.
This was a globally broadcast carnival of the strong!
A real-life "World Expo"—except instead of showcasing technology and culture from various nations, it displayed the most primal, most violent thing of all—martial arts!
...
Backstage in the competitor waiting area, the atmosphere was completely different from the frenzy outside.
Here, the air itself seemed frozen.
Nearly two hundred elite fighters from over a hundred countries and regions—all survivors of the regional qualifiers—had gathered in one place.
Each one radiated a powerful, unique aura.
These auras intersected and collided here, forming an invisible pressure as heavy as a mountain—enough to suffocate any ordinary person on the spot.
This was the "monster room."
An ultimate breeding ground filled with all manner of freaks and demons.
Cloud, Chun-Li, and Guile blended into this crowd of monsters.
Chun-Li wore her signature blue qipao, doing her pre-match stretches.
Her long, shapely legs executed flexibility movements that exceeded human limits, drawing frequent sidelong glances from male fighters nearby—though after sensing the stern "Interpol agent" presence she radiated, they all sheepishly looked away.
Guile leaned against a corner wall with his arms crossed, eyes closed in meditation.
His chiseled muscles and signature flat-top haircut made him look like a missile ready to launch at any moment, exuding a "keep your distance" military aura.
And our protagonist Cloud displayed the most unusual behavior of all.
He wasn't warming up. He wasn't resting with eyes closed.
He strolled through the waiting area like an HR manager browsing a talent fair, hands behind his back, studying each "prey"—ahem, competitor—with a look of keen appreciation and appraisal.
...
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