Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Mist ❯ Chapter 13 ( Chapter 14 )

Started 12/02/2007 Completed 12/02/2007

Chapter 13

Across every station and on every working television appeared the image an aging man with a mic in hand. “Here we are, just twenty minutes from the start of the Cell Games; and from the looks of it, no one has shown up, for fear of their lives!” he whisper-shouted. No sense being too loud, you never know how Cell will react to the media.

The view panned out, displaying a tall man with a green exoskeleton standing in the center of a square ring, with four jagged posts in the corners.

“As you can see, Cell continues to stand in the middle of the ring, without moving a muscle. And, with not a lot of time left `til the opening bell, we are still awaiting the arrival of the people's Grand Champion… The one and only, Hercule.” He spoke the man's name with such reverence you could believe he worshipped him.

From the distance two clouds of dust appeared, both on course to arrive at the ring.

“Huh? Wait a minute,” the reporter spoke, getting the attention of his cameraman. “Yes, someone's coming…”

The first vehicle was a hover-car, camper series. “Would you look at that folks, someone's actually arrived to watch to battle for the fate of our planet!” he reported, sounding equal parts shocked and relieved.

From the door emerged nine beautiful women, each dressed in frilly seifuku, and one young man wearing a set of black kung fu pants with a red Chinese tunic, buttoned together by dragon-shaped wooden pegs. He paused, making a few gestures with his hands as he gave last minute instructions.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe that this guy plans to take part in the tournament!” announced the Reporter, watching as the ninja led the girls to the side of the ring.

 

In an unnamed city, watching a large ZTV screen pasted to the side of a building, an overweight man decided to let his feelings be known. “That idiot's gonna hisself kilt! You don't see me getting involved in battles for the fate of he world, and do you know why?'

If anyone was listening to him, they didn't show it; with the exception of a cat with a hammer-headed walking staff. “Because you're a sniveling coward, who rather sit in my tower, eating Senzu beans, rather than helping your friends?” the cat asked with a rough, gravelly voice.

“Hey, I've helped Goku out before, but I know when not to stick around, and this is one of those times; so stuff it!”

The cat sniggered into its paw, but said nothing more.

 

The second vehicle, a black car with the image of a bodybuilder flexing his muscles as a hood ornament, opened its back door. From the opening emerged a leg in white gi pants and a pointed toe brown boot.

Quick as a whip, the man was standing outside the car, the wind billowing his long white cape, as he stood there, a focusing his energy.

“Ladies and gentlemen it's Hercule to the rescue!” the reporter cheered, suddenly feeling more confident about being in Cell's presence.

“Hmm… Hrhr, Yeah! Hahaha,” Hercule pumped a fist into the air, tooting his own horn.

“So, put your hands together for Her-cule!”

By some strange manner, Hercule knew exactly where the camera was as he grinned victoriously and gave the people a `V' sign. “Yeah!”

 

All around the world, man, woman and child began to shout the name, “Hercule! Hercule! Hercule! Hercule!” Confetti was thrown through the streets, as they knew, that with out a shadow of doubt, Hercule would save the world.

 

Ranma watched with incredulity, as a man that could not have given his fiancée, Akane, a run for her money in hand-to-hand combat, entered the ring. He could swear he had heard a theme music playing a he walked the distance, too.

Hercule paused a short distance away from Cell, pointing haughtily. “You're, going down!” Hercule declared, pointing a thumb toward Hell.

“Whoa! Ladies and gentlemen, the tournament's about to begin!” Now full of confidence, the reporter was on his feet and shouting praise for Hercule. “And Hercule is already declaring his victory. But wait folks, even with world's strongest man about to challenge him, Cell remains as calm as a cucumber.”

As far as Cell was concerned the true tournament was when he got to fight Goku. Anyone else was a joke in comparison; except he kept getting weird vibes from the ninja. `I'll keep an eye on him, then,' Cell decided on a whim. “Well, then, let's begin,”

“So, it looks like Cell's anxious to get this show on the road! And so are we; ladies and gentlemen, let the ultimate games begin!”

 

“The hopes and dreams of the whole world rest on the shoulders of Hercule, but just between you and me, I'm not worried.”

The heavyset man from before reached into the bucket in his lap and clutched a handful of specially prepared trail mix jerky. “That clowns gonna get his,” the man remarked, placing a new handful in his mouth.

 

The reporter leaned as far as gravity would allow him to, watching the pre-game show from the edge of his seat. “Hercule is now making his way towards Cell… but the Champ appears to be taking his sweet time.”

 

Ranma could only blink. This was absurd, there was no way that the guy would be able to beat someone capable of destroying a planet.

”Is this guy for real?” Ranma asked the girls with him.

“What do you mean?” Jupiter questioned, she had trained under Hercule for a year a when she was younger; right before she became obsessed with ninjas. “Hercule's really strong.”

“And fast!” Neptune added, her love of speed influenced by watching one of Hercule's exhibitions when she was in junior high.

“Yeah, and he's fast,” Jupiter conceded. “He's the best martial artist the planet's ever had!”

Ranma felt like barfing. Sure, he had been in a secluded environment, but he had had challengers from China come to face him; real challenges, not these points-for-striking rules. “I was past his skill level when I was fourteen. The best fighter in the world, huh? Heck, even Kuno could beat this bozo.”

The girls obviously didn't take too kindly of Ranma's disrespect. The air began to reek of ozone and burning soil.

“What's he doing now?” Ranma asked, the ring of annoyance in his voice was steadily growing.

“I think he's calling the cameraman,” Mars pointed at the stammering guy with a microphone in his hand and his assistant, a portly fellow with a camera on his shoulder.

“Guess he's not really hurtin' nothin',” Ranma shrugged his shoulders and watched as the reporter charged up to Hercule.

“Th-thanks for the ringside seats, Mr. Hercule,” the guy with the microphone managed. Ranma could see that he was shaking like a leaf.

Hercule made an order that Ranma had no interest in hearing, but the reporter climbed on stage, albeit shakily. “Can we get this tournament started? What's with all the fanfare?”

His voice obviously startled the cameraman and reporter as they were now hiding behind Hercule, who was also looking around in a state of fright. Ranma almost lost it; “This is too funny! The world's champion, afraid of a guy asking a question?!”

Hercule straightened his stance instantly, and was posing bravely with his knuckles against his hips. “WAHAHAHA! I was just kiddin', really!” he swore, though the reporter had to wonder about the sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

The reporter cleared his throat, straightened his tie and took position on the other side Hercule from Cell. “So, Champ, do you think you're ready for the fight? Any.. last remarks? Haha!”

“There goes that music again,” Ranma reflected as the theme music played for Hercule while he spoke.

“I'd like to give Cell my condolences… It's too bad my unworthy opponent didn't know that I existed, before he started this tournament of his.”

“He speaks like Kuno,” Ranma whispered to Pluto, who gave him an odd look. “Right, you don't know Kuno…”

“Anything else?” the reporter inquired.

“I'll give him one last chance to back out; he might think that he's a champ, but he's just a chump!” Hercule shouted into the mic, doing a great job of getting the fans pumped up for a great show.

 

All around the world, the masses screamed Hercule's name.

“Listen up you bum!” Hercule declared, snatching the mic and looking straight into the lens. “You are goin' down, in the first round!”

The masses were eating it up.

 

“I know you beat the Royal Military by planting bombs before hand!”

Ranma whistled, “Cell beat the military? That's pretty impressive,” he told the girls with him.

“Shhh!” came the unified reply.

Ranma released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and turned back to the exchange on stage, careful only to speak when necessary. Obviously some of the people truly believed the blowhard's explanation for Ki. Ranma could still feel the lingering traces of several large blasts.

 

“I know all your stupid parlor tricks, and I'm not impressed!” Hercule intoned, as he did his level best to loom over the taller man.

“I can't believe he won't respond,” the reporter expressed, standing close to his protection.

“I can't believe you won't shut up!” Ranma shouted.

Both, reporter and Hercule turned to face the ninja. “He's just upset that I know Cell's weaknesses,” Hercule informed the shorter man, crossing his arms and turning to face Cell again. “I'm gonna spank you Cell! AH HA Hahaha!” Hercule imitated giving his butt a spanking, while he laughed boldly at Cell.

“Yu know, it might be fair, if he gets killed…” Ranma mused aloud. Several glares from the girls, news crews and Hercule told Ranma how they felt about it.

Without warning Ranma's face went pale and he dropped to one knee gasping for breath. `Holy crap! Those auras are beyond anything I've ever felt before!' Ranma thought, he would have spoken, but didn't want to risk biting off his tongue. When he felt like he could speak aloud, he decided to start simple. “One, two, three… five? No, seve- Eight!”

The reporter turned to Hercule for answers. “What do you think is wrong with him?”

Hercule's eyes were small dots at the moment. “I don't know, could be indigestion. I've been known to have a bad case flare every once in awhile myself…”

 

Five figures rocketed through the sky. Normally one would think a carnival's human cannonball, but these were blasted from a cannon and they didn't have any type of boosters. Instead they were propelling themselves along, by use of their Ki. Two of the figures were glowing gold while the other three were balls of white light; despite the color they displayed, they were moving at speeds supersonic jets could barely reach.

Zooming in, we see that one isn't even human; instead he's green with red spots, showing his biceps and triceps. Another was bald and clothed in an orange gi, looking like he was ready to go to war. A father and son were the gold-shrouded figures. The son was wearing an outfit identical to the green guy's which was a dark blue shirt and pants with a heavy white cape and a weighted turban. And the last was a figure with a blue bodysuit and white vest with golden abs; his platinum hair was buffeted in the winds as he traveled far faster than any human was meant to, without protection.

The boy's face lit up, “Ha! It's Tein and Yamcha!” he proclaimed, showing familiarity of the two hovering lights in the distance.

It only took a few moments to reach the `lights'. They pulled to an instant stop beside their friends, expecting to add allies to the upcoming battle.

The tall, bald, three-eyed man, dressed similarly to a Xiaolin monk, spoke up. “Hey listen guys, we'll come with you, but we're not gonna fight.”

The older of the gold glowing males smiled kindly, in an understanding manner. “Sure… Come on, let's go.”

And so we see seven blazing streamers of light, traveling the sky, on course for the tournament…

 

Ranma finally found the strength to claim his footing. “They're almost here,” he spoke to himself.

The theme music of Hercule's blazed through the air as he continued to taunt the alien weirdo that wanted to destroy his home planet. “Bleah…” he taunted, pulling back his eyelids and sticking out his tongue at Cell. “WAHAHAHA! You're a little thick, aren't you there?” Hercule patted his head, indicated his foe's stupidity, “Sucker! NYAH HAHAHA!”

“Oh, another verbal jab! This match hasn't even started yet, and in this announcer's humble opinion, it looks like Hercule's already winning!” When Cell adjusted his gaze to the sky, the reporter adjusted his glasses, turned into the distance and caught the first vestiges of a ball of light heading their way. “Huh… What the? What is that?”

The pervasive aura of dominance struck Ranma to his knees again. Why couldn't the others feel true power when it was right in their faces? `At least Cell can feel it… But is he really that much stronger than me; that he doesn't feel threatened by the forces heading this way?'

Faster than sound, the owner to the aura appeared, landing next Ranma and the girls, emitting an air of confidence; even if all he did was stare impassively into the ring.

“It appears that we have another visitor, but I don't recognize him. He just came flying in here, unexpectedly.” The reporter reported. All eyes were now focused on the newest arrival, which stared into Cell's cruel gaze.

“One of Cell's tricks,” Hercule informed the people watching, it almost sounded like he believed it himself.

“I don't know what he's doing here, so why don't I go down and ask him?” With that, the small man raced from the ring and headed to the extremely muscular man's position. “So, who are you? Where do you come from? And, if you're just here to watch, back away from the ring so you don't get hurt.”

“Quiet,” he said, his voice sending chills through Ranma's bones. “I've had enough of your insolence; get out of my face.”

 

 

LWH (laarcae@laarcae.com)