The King Of Fighters

In the heart of Africa, deep within the untamed jungles of a nation overrun by piracy and lawlessness, a powerful mercenary group known as the Ikari Warriors had been contracted to restore order. Unlike the chaos they were sent to combat, the Ikari Warriors operated with discipline and a strong moral compass. They were a force of balance, intervening in global conflicts to eliminate threats while refusing to take missions that harmed innocents.

The pirates, a ruthless collection of killers and looters, had thrived unchecked for years. But they underestimated the forces they had drawn the ire of. The Ikari Warriors, led by the stoic and deadly Leona Heidern, were no ordinary mercenaries. They were a storm that would obliterate the pirates' illusion of dominance.

With precision and raw power, the three warriors—Leona, Ralf Jones, and Clark Still—tore through the pirates' ships and strongholds. Explosions rocked the jungle coastline as their coordinated assault dismantled the pirates' operations with brutal efficiency. Ralf, the most energetic of the group, laughed as he threw himself into the chaos, his powerful strikes reducing walls and enemies alike to rubble. Clark, the silent and calculating member, moved methodically, his every action measured and lethal. Leona, commanding and cold, led the charge, her unflinching resolve driving the team forward.

As the dust settled, the Ikari Warriors regrouped near the remnants of the pirates' last stronghold. The mission was almost complete, but Leona's sharp instincts told her to remain cautious.

"Captain, how long do we need to stay?" Ralf asked, his tone respectful despite his usual boisterous personality. The tall, blonde mercenary adjusted his hat, his sharp blue eyes scanning the horizon.

"Until we're sure the mission is done," Leona replied coolly, biting into a ration bar. Her steely gaze flicked toward the horizon. "We don't leave even one behind."

Their conversation was interrupted by a deep voice that carried a mix of authority and amusement. "Oh, it's good then that I'm here."

The warriors immediately shifted into defensive stances, weapons at the ready, as a towering figure emerged from the jungle shadows. Muteba Gizenga, the infamous blind mercenary, stepped forward with his usual casual swagger. His muscular frame was adorned with tribal tattoos, his whited-out eyes staring unerringly at them despite his blindness.

"Muteba," Ralf growled, his fingers itching for action. "What do you want?"

Muteba raised his hands in mock surrender, his scarred lips curling into a smirk. "Relax, Jones. I'm not here for a fight... unless you want one. I came to personally invite you to the next King of Fighters tournament."

The mention of the tournament made Leona's heart skip a beat. Memories of their last experience resurfaced—a brutal and chaotic event that had left scars, both physical and emotional. A deep unease settled over her, though she masked it well. Something worse is coming.

Clark's words were blunt and firm. "We will be there, so you can leave now."

His tone carried a sense of finality that left no room for argument. He knew Leona despised Muteba—not just for his presence, but for what he represented. Muteba was the epitome of unrestrained indulgence, a mercenary who saw women as mere conquests and respected only those who wielded strength. There was no honor in his line of work, only a practical adherence to whatever task paid the most. Had his current employer not kept him barely within the boundaries of legality, Clark was certain they would have been forced to eliminate him already.

Muteba chuckled, an unnervingly deep sound that carried a mix of amusement and menace. His scarred lips twisted into a grin as his whited-out eyes turned toward Leona.

"She's as fiery as ever," Muteba thought, feeling the latent power within her. It wasn't just strength that drew his attention—it was the bloodlust buried deep in her soul, barely restrained. That dangerous energy was magnetic to someone like him, who lived on the edge of violence and chaos.

Leona Heidern was no ordinary warrior. She was a monster in the guise of a disciplined soldier, a being of unimaginable potential destruction. And that potential excited Muteba in ways he barely understood. He had seen her at her wildest before, when her blood had taken over and left him scarred. He wanted to claim her, but not like this. Not until she unleashed the beast he knew lay dormant within her.

"Not yet," he mused to himself as he turned to leave. "Sadly, the dream will remain a dream for now."

As Muteba walked away, he absently touched his chest, feeling the ridges of scars left by their previous battle. That encounter had been unlike anything he'd ever faced, a stark reminder that even he, the feared Genocider, was not invincible. Leona's unrelenting fury had not only marked his body but also shaken his confidence, opening his eyes to a world where strength alone was not enough.

"I'll be leaving now, so take care," he said aloud, his voice casual, though his thoughts were far from indifferent.

He moved with his usual swagger, disappearing into the dense jungle that surrounded their temporary camp. Inwardly, he hoped for the completion of the yin-yang reactor, a mysterious project his employer had promised would grant him unimaginable power. With it, he could finally step onto a higher stage and perhaps face her again—not as a man outmatched, but as an equal, ready to claim what he desired.

Leona watched Muteba vanish into the trees, her sharp eyes narrowing as she suppressed the unease that had surfaced at the mention of the King of Fighters tournament. The last tournament had been a nightmare, and something in her blood—the cursed blood of the Orochi—whispered that worse was yet to come.

Her fingers clenched at her sides, her jaw tightening. Why do I feel this way? Is it my blood warning me again?

"Leona," Clark's calm voice interrupted her thoughts. He didn't need to say more; his quiet presence was enough to anchor her.

She exhaled slowly, pushing the feelings aside. Whatever was coming, she would face it head-on. She always had. But as the jungle grew quiet around them, the tension in the air lingered, heavy and foreboding.

Naruto bolted upright, a cold sweat clinging to his skin as his breathing came fast and ragged. The words reverberated in his head like a haunting echo: "Almighty Push." They weren't just words—they were a declaration of overwhelming destruction that had rattled him to his core.

He scanned his surroundings, his pulse pounding in his ears. He was in the room King had provided for him, its modest furnishings illuminated by the faint glow of early morning light filtering through the curtains. Placing a trembling hand over his chest, he focused on the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat to ground himself.

"What was that? he thought, running his hand through his disheveled hair. What kind of attack was that? Why did it feel like everything was ending the moment those words were spoken?"

The sheer dread he had felt wasn't something he could easily shake off, and the sensation of helplessness gnawed at the edge of his mind.

His musings were interrupted as he felt movement on either side of him. He froze momentarily before glancing down, realizing that Poison and Roxy were pressed against him, their bare bodies tangled with his.

"Hey, Boss," Roxy murmured groggily, her eyes barely open as she blinked at him in concern. "What happened?"

Naruto's voice was flat, tinged with irritation. "What are you girls doing here?"

"We couldn't sleep last night," Poison replied nonchalantly, stretching lazily as her hand slid across his chest with deliberate slowness. "Thought we'd snuggle with Boss and see if it helped. Guess what? It worked like a charm. Best sleep I've had in ages."

Naruto's eyes narrowed, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "Next time, don't do it without permission. You might not like the consequences."

"But Boss," Roxy chimed in, her tone soft and pleading, "she's not lying. You're really comfortable to snuggle against. We weren't trying to upset you."

Naruto sighed, running a hand over his face. "Next time, try asking," he muttered, his voice quieter now, though the strange dream still weighed heavily on his mind. He shifted to get out of bed, only to realize with growing irritation that they had removed his underwear.

He turned to the two women, his expression flat and unamused. "Really?"

Poison smirked playfully, her head resting on the pillow as she gave a languid stretch. "You're welcome."

Grumbling under his breath, Naruto grabbed his discarded underwear from the floor and made his way to the bathroom. His frustration deepened as he noticed the inevitable result of their shameless antics—his body had reacted, and he wasn't particularly thrilled about it.

Closing the bathroom door behind him, he took a moment to collect himself, leaning on the sink as he splashed cold water on his face. He stared into the mirror, his reflection looking just as weary as he felt.

"What was that dream about?" he thought, gripping the edges of the sink. "It felt so real. Too real."

The words lingered in his mind like a storm cloud. "Almighty Push." He didn't know what it was, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time he heard it.

King stepped into the room, her casual attire—fitted jeans and a purple t-shirt—adding to her commanding yet approachable presence. Her sharp gaze swept over the scene, quickly taking in Naruto's disheveled state and the two women lounging on the bed.

"Naruto, are you okay?" she asked, her tone calm but laced with concern. Despite his shirtless and barely-clothed appearance, King didn't so much as blink; she had seen far stranger things in her line of work.

The two women, however, were another story. King's eyes narrowed as she addressed them directly, her voice taking on a colder edge. "Girls, if you try this nonsense again in my house, you'll be sleeping with the fishes."

Roxy grinned mischievously, throwing her arms around Poison in an exaggerated display of mock fear. "Oh no, Poison! She's going to kill us!"

Poison smirked, but her tone shifted to something more conciliatory. "Don't worry, King. We'll behave." She glanced at Naruto, noting the tension in his expression, and decided it was time to stop pushing their luck.

Naruto straightened, his voice even but subdued. "I'm fine. Just a nightmare. Sorry for the disturbance." His demeanor was calm, his mind already working to compartmentalize the unsettling emotions from the dream. He didn't seem the least bit self-conscious about his appearance, his past experiences leaving him unfazed by situations like this.

King's perceptive gaze lingered on him for a moment longer. She recognized the subtle signs of someone shaken by something more than a simple bad dream. But she also knew when to step back. "If you say so," she said quietly, not wanting to press him further.

"It's already afternoon," King continued, her tone more practical now. She gestured toward the clock on the wall. "Get ready and come eat lunch. I left some clothes for you." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out, her stride purposeful.

Naruto glanced at the bundle of clothes she had left—a simple shirt and a pair of comfortable pants. King's actions spoke volumes about her no-nonsense personality, and he appreciated that she wasn't making a fuss.

'It's fine,' Naruto told himself as he moved toward the bathroom. He turned on the shower, letting the cool water cascade over his body. The sensation helped steady his thoughts, grounding him in the present.

The nightmare still lingered at the edges of his mind, but he forced himself to set it aside. "I don't have future sight. It's probably just stress," he reasoned. With the dream's unsettling weight pushed to the back of his mind, he resolved to focus on the day ahead.

After freshening up, Naruto dressed quickly, ready to face whatever awaited him next.

Roxy leaned her head against Poison's, her eyes sparkling with mischief but her thoughts running deeper than her playful exterior. "Sis, his body is really good. You'll have to help me control the itch, or I might attack him," she said mentally, her lips curling into a sly smile.

Poison met her sister's gaze, a knowing look in her eyes as she replied through their shared mental link, "We'll hold each other back." Without hesitation, she kissed Roxy on the lips, the gesture intimate and familiar.

Their openness about sex was something they had shared for years, a bond that had grown as they explored the world together. Since the age of sixteen, the sisters had found comfort and satisfaction in each other and their teammates. Ordinary humans had never been able to keep up with their desires or their strength.

But this time was different. If they wanted to attract Naruto, continuing their casual flings would be the wrong move entirely.

No man, unless he was a cuckold, would accept his women sleeping around with others, and they instinctively knew Naruto wasn't the type to tolerate such behavior. While he hadn't spoken a single derogatory word about their past, his demeanor suggested he valued loyalty and sincerity in relationships.

Roxy's playful grin softened as Poison's thoughts mirrored her own. Naruto seemed like the kind of man who saw love and intimacy as sacred, something shared only between true partners. His restraint so far had confirmed their suspicions—any other man in his position might have taken advantage of their advances, but Naruto had held back.

Poison's lips quirked into a small smile, her sharp mind analyzing the situation. 'At least he isn't Ryu,' she thought with a quiet chuckle. Ryu, the man who lived solely for battle, devoid of any earthly desires, was the polar opposite of Naruto.

Her thoughts lingered on Naruto's unwavering resolve, his sense of purpose, and his quiet strength. Unlike the fighters she had known, he was an enigma, a man whose passions ran deep but who held them tightly in check.

Still, the sisters knew they had to tread carefully. Naruto was not a man who could be won over with mere seduction. For now, they would have to learn to control themselves, keeping their desires in check as they navigated this delicate new dynamic.