Before the coming of the modern age, Thailand was part of a great kingdom that thrived with marvelous architecture and art even when the Western world was suffering a dark age of stagnation and plagues. Towering structures and statues populated the regions as the assorted kings and lords fought amongst one another with elephants and swords, and soon Thailand gained a reputation as a kingdom of warriors. With styles like Muay Thai and Muay Boran at its disposal, the kingdom’s reputation for fighting began reaching other parts of the globe, and even as the kingdom crumbled the reputation for fighting remained.
In modern times, Thailand became a hub for crime and corruption, despite the best efforts of the government. The once-sacred sport of kings now had a dark taint to it, with the local mobs fixing the fights and fighters who refused to bend to their will were mercilessly dispatched. Worst of all of these gangs was the dreaded Shadaloo, a global organization devoted to the absolute worst aspects of humanity. Through their drugs and weapons, they spread fear, distrust, greed, avarice, and evil amongst the world’s populace, feeding off of the world’s terror like a leech on blood. Though several brave men and women tried many times to topple Shadaloo, it would continue to rise from the ashes like a phoenix, more brutal and more devastating than the last incarnation.
Shadaloo’s base was fittingly located amongst the ruins of the great kingdom that Thailand once boasted, hidden amongst the decaying architecture that still held majesty and grace through the ravages of time. Its location was known only to a scant few, but those who knew it either pledged allegiance to the organization or were too frightened to enter. Today, however, there was a brave warrior that not only entered the headquarters, but did so without being formally invited. Naturally, the guards came to dispatch the intruder, but like the soldiers of old, they were felled not by guns or explosives…but by fist and limb.
Shadaloo Headquarters was being invaded by a lone warrior, and anyone who attempted to stop him was quickly knocked unconscious, if they were fortunate. The intruder didn’t really mind if he used too much force or not: if they were foolish enough to think he could be overcome by mere weapons, then they were probably a waste of air in the first place. To face Heihachi Mishima in battle, after all, was to face certain defeat. The least they could do was face it honorably, without using weapons or other such handicaps.
Any like any true despot, Shadaloo’s terrifying leader watched the battle unfold with only a grin, enjoying the carnage he was witnessing through the safety of his war room where his massive holographic monitor gave him the means to observe his enemy. He took great pride in the power and fear Shadaloo commanded, so there was no need for him to personally get his hands dirty if the intruder could be handled by his pawns. To face Bison, after all, was to face certain death. The least he could do is give the intruder a fighting chance before personally getting involved.
“Is that our seventh or eighth wave this interloper has dealt with?” The red-clad lord of evil said as he reached for his Shadaloo cap and placed it on his head.
“Our eighth, sir,” the well-built subordinate said solemnly as he was motioned with a gesture from his commander to stand next to him. Stepping forward as he was requested, the subordinate turned his head to see his muscular leader stand from his chair and put on the long black cape that saw him through so many brutal battles. Even though Bison was letting his underlings throw themselves in harm’s way in his stead, the subordinate knew full well how terrifying Bison was in one-on-one combat. There were many in the organization who believed that, if left to his own devices, Bison was possibly the strongest martial artist on the planet, matched only by a scant few that rose up to foil his plans.
“He’s magnificent,” Bison said his grin widening to a chilling Cheshire smile. As he did so, dark purple energy began to radiate from his body, giving the Shadaloo leader a sinister aura of malice and evil. Not only was Bison in peak physical condition with a deadly fighting style of his own design, he wielded an ancient energy known as Psycho Power. While he was already known as a maniacal individual, those who witnessed him use this power, however faintly, knew that he was far more than a mere would-be dictator. To those who knew of his Psycho Power, Bison was nothing short of a demon disguised as a man…and the way Bison smiled at how this elderly man with dark gray hair jutting out like wings on his bald head, wearing a tiger-striped fur coat with dark purple pants and slacks, the subordinate knew that Bison had found his next meal to satiate his never-ending thirst for carnage.
“…our men are awaiting your orders, sir,” the subordinate said after he gulped at his leader’s malicious intent. Though he currently pledged allegiance to this empire of evil, the subordinate only joined the organization because they promised to save his wife’s life after birthing complications threatened her well-being. He didn’t know at the time that the reason they wanted his wife as so she could become the first of what Bison hoped to be the next generation of his “Doll” corps: young women that Bison kidnapped and brainwashed before letting his scientists inject them with all kinds of steroids and chemicals. Had he known that, he would have just dealt with his grief and rest knowing that his wife was in the care of God.
Instead, both of them were now in the care of demons. For that, Moshe would swallow his pride and let this monster do as he pleased. The most he could hope for was that someone would rise up and strike him down someday, and free him from his tyranny.
“…I know you can hear me, Bison,” the visage of Heihachi said with a faint tinge in his voice from the feedback of the camera that was monitoring him. Looking around until he saw the camera that was watching him, the old man glared and his thick mustache furled as he stared directly into the eye watching him so that his full face was in view of Bison’s monitor. “I have come to this base requesting an audience with you, yet you lash out at me with your pawns like I am little more than a trifle. For that travesty, your men have paid the price.”
Motioning at the dozens of bodies strewn about him, Heihachi continued. “I have accepted your sacrificial pawns, and now I am ready to fight you, their king. Your accursed Shadaloo has been spreading its vile influence to Mishima Polytechnic High School, allowing my students to fall victim to your drugs and weapons. For that, you have two options available to you now.” With his sneer increasing, bolts of bright blue lightning crackled across Heihachi’s body as he clenched his fists. “You can either bow your head before me in apology and servitude, or I will force you to bow after I break both of your legs and render you unable to stand. The choice is yours, coward!”
“…look carefully at him, Moshe,” Bison told his subordinate who remained standing at attention regardless of how much contempt he held for him. “Though he puts up a front of evil, Heihachi Mishima is a very troubled man. You see, the death of his wife over forty years ago drove the poor thing mad. He’s imprisoned his father, thrown his son into a volcano, shot his grandson in the head, and performed all sorts of terrible deeds stemming from that moment.”
“How would you know that, sir?” Moshe asked as Bison turned around to face him with that chilling smile of his.
“Such is the abilities of one who wields Psycho Power, Moshe,” Bison replied as he put his glowing hand on Moshe’s shoulder, though Moshe didn’t really feel comforted by the gesture. “In only a few seconds, I could analyze his life story through his eyes and his voice. Perhaps one day, if you get into my good graces, I could take you in as a student of this marvelous art.” Leaning in so that he was next to Moshe’s ear, Bison’s voice turned into a cruel whisper. “After all…it worked marvelously on your dear wife…or should we now call her ‘Agent Beit’ now?”
Pushing Moshe away before his subordinate could respond, Bison walked past him and headed for the door. “Tell the ninth wave to stand down, Moshe. I will be joining the battle personally. If it’s an audience this man wants, then it is an audience this man will get…right after I prepare the ‘hostess’ I have planned to greet him.” Continuing to smile, the despotic leader of Shadaloo allowed himself a chuckle. “Heh heh…it will be such a touching encounter, Moshe. I will allow you to stay in my quarters and watch the battle in my stead. I’m sure a loving husband like you will appreciate our guest’s plight! Heheheh…HAHAHAHAHA!”
As the chuckle erupted into a spine-tingling laughter, Bison suddenly vanished like an apparition, confirming Moshe’s beliefs further that his leader was a demon. Turning around to see Heihachi tapping his foot impatiently waiting for his next victim, Moshe found himself pitying Heihachi’s fate even though he was aware of the evil that the Mishima patriarch was capable of. The untimely death of a loved one could drive any man to do bad things: Moshe’s current employment in Shadaloo only confirmed that. A part of him hoped that Bison would lose to Heihachi, but that would only give rise to an even worse predicament: Heihachi’s madness alongside Shadaloo’s empire would spell doom for the planet.
So as Moshe reluctantly sat down in the chair of his despotic commander, he placed his hand on his strong chin and waited for Bison’s plan to unfold, reminding himself not to hope that the two monsters kill each other as Bison’s Psycho Power made him omnipresent in the minds of those he called his subordinates.