"Hey, Benimaru." Mai's tone had turned dangerous. "Who exactly is this... adorable little sister?"
"Ugh, don't get me started." Benimaru pressed a palm to his forehead, wearing his best "my life is suffering" expression.
He gestured at the girl behind him with an exhausted sigh. "Everyone, meet the little princess of the Kusanagi family—Kyo's cousin—Aoi Kusanagi."
"As for why we're here..."
His expression grew even more haggard.
"Blame this little troublemaker. After hearing Kyo's tales of Cloud's legendary exploits, she got it into her head to run away from home and come to South Town... to find her so-called 'long-lost brother'..."
Benimaru's words landed like a nuclear bomb in everyone's minds!
Kyo Kusanagi's... cousin?!
Here to find... her brother?!
Every eye in the courtyard swiveled toward the utterly bewildered protagonist—Cloud!
"H-hello!"
Aoi Kusanagi—this audacious little "princess"—finally mustered her courage and stepped out from behind Benimaru.
She approached Cloud, lifted her adorable face to look up at him, and gave a deep, earnest bow—nervous and excited all at once.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Aoi Kusanagi! Kyo told me all about you! You're my long-lost brother who's super powerful and beat Rugal and saved everyone, right?!"
Her voice rang clear and sweet as a songbird, brimming with youthful energy and hero worship.
Cloud: "..."
He stared at this self-proclaimed "little sister" who'd materialized out of thin air—this pure and beautiful teenage girl—and felt his brain dissolve into complete mush.
Are you kidding me?!
I just shook off one "fake older brother," and now I've got a "fake little sister"?!
What the hell did Kyo Kusanagi's big mouth tell his family when he got home?!
Now the entire Kusanagi clan thinks I'm their "long-lost illegitimate child"?!
Meanwhile, Mai watched this textbook "soap opera family reunion" unfold, her pretty face—already stiff from jealousy—now completely... collapsed.
Her expression was a masterpiece of complexity.
Shock. Resignation. "How does this walking disaster magnet keep attracting more girls" fury. And a tiny whisper of... why is this little sister actually cuter than me crisis mode.
She felt her "jealousy tank" had upgraded beyond "knocked over" status...
...straight to a full-scale "vinegar factory."
"Heh... heheheh..."
She let out a dry, somewhat spine-chilling laugh.
"Cloud... you really are... getting more capable by the day."
The entire courtyard was now saturated with that peculiar atmosphere—equal parts hot blood, passion, gossip, drama, and the unmistakable tang of jealousy.
The final battle that would determine South Town's fate was about to begin against this backdrop of "all-star reunion" meets "love triangle upgrade"...
Ready to explode!
South Town's night had never been this "lively."
Before, these nights belonged to alcohol, neon lights, and shadowy deals in dark alleys.
But tonight—tonight belonged only to war!
South Town Docks—the city's largest cargo hub—had transformed into a massive, gunpowder-scented killing ground.
The sea breeze carried the thick smell of smoke, blood, and the visible waves of qi rippling through the air.
Three distinct hostile factions faced off like three enraged primordial beasts in an ultimate game of bumper cars!
To the east—Geese Howard's "Geese Legion"—an army of disciplined black suits and berserk "beast soldiers." They held the high ground atop the warehouse district, laying down withering fire with military precision, embodying Geese's emperor-like control.
To the west—the Dark Emperor Wolfgang Krauser, fresh from his "demolition site" encounter at Geese Tower, rage burning bright. Behind him stood his "Imperial Guard"—elite European mercenaries, every one a hardened killer who'd crawled from mountains of corpses, equipped with cutting-edge gear and terrifying tactical skills. Their strategy? One word: overwhelm.
Caught in the middle was Mr. Big and his "Godfather Self-Defense Force."
This motley crew—hastily assembled from nightclub bouncers, casino security, and street toughs—looked like the textbook definition of "cannon fodder." They huddled behind shipping containers, trembling hands barely able to hold their weapons steady.
"B-Boss," one thug stammered at Mr. Big, "are we r-really gonna fight those two sides? I feel like... we don't even qualify as cannon fodder here!"
"Shut up! Useless!"
Mr. Big's slap cracked across the man's face—but cold sweat beaded his own forehead too.
He watched the "clash of titans" happening on both flanks and mentally cursed eighteen generations of Geese's and Krauser's ancestors.
Just as he was convinced tonight would be his end, already mentally drafting his will—
A leisurely voice drifted from behind him like heavenly music.
"Take it easy, Mr. Big. War is an art form, after all. Look—aren't these fireworks beautiful?"
Mr. Big whipped around.
There stood Cloud, his "KOF All-Star Dream Team" assembled behind him—a luxury lineup that had appeared from nowhere, without a sound.
...
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