Kzaoo
Active member
Prologue
“I thought I’d be happy,” His voice emanated sadness. “All the pain he caused, the misery he brought,” Lee hammered his fist against his desk, causing papers to fly off the surface and fall to the floor. “So why am I so upset? Why am I so frustrated?”
The silver haired demon: Lee Chaolan. A successful businessman, rich, famous and attractive, what more could a man want? A young orphan who lived a tough life on the streets grows up to be one of the wealthiest men on the planet. An inspirational tale of rags to riches. Heh, no. More luck than anything. I was brought into a family, you might have heard of them: the Mishima’s. Yeah, that’s right, the family that owns the seemingly omnipotent Mishima Zaibatsu. The leader of the family brought me into the family as just a young boy. Not for reasons of love, not from the kindness in his heart, just as a training partner for his son, Kazuya Mishima. If it wasn’t for that then God knows where I would be now.
“Heihahci Mishima is dead,” the words echoed through his skull, reducing in volume, but never quite going away. he had been sitting there, looking at some reports. he had the radio on in the background to just to kill the silence. He always hated the silence, it gave him too much of a reason to think. He had much to think about: Childish desires of revenge that he had long put behind him, or so he liked to think; he still had a lingering hatred for the family that raised him. He’d been betrayed too many times. When he had just moved into his office, which still had not changed a bit in design, he made the mistake of letting the silence last way too often. He used to sit in his leather seat that hugged him like a glove with his elbows propped on the desk so he could rest his chin on his fists. The sunlight from the large arched window behind him gave him slight glazing of brightness as he remembered. He remembered old thoughts that left him sour. He remembered painful thoughts that left him resentful. He remembered thoughts of betrayal that filled him with rage. Silence was bad.
Heihachi was the source of most of these troubling thoughts. He always pictured how he would feel once the old man’s death finally came around; he imagined he would feel relived, glad and happy, but this was not the case. Instead, Lee was left with feelings of sadness, despair and regret. Why wasn’t he happy? Why wasn’t he glad that he had the opportunity to seize power of the Zaibatsu? Then he realised why it wasn’t like he wanted it to be. Heihachi Mishima made Lee who he was. Without Heihachi there would be no money, no education, no hope.
“I thought I’d be happy,” His voice emanated sadness. “All the pain he caused, the misery he brought,” Lee hammered his fist against his desk, causing papers to fly off the surface and fall to the floor. “So why am I so upset? Why am I so frustrated?”
The silver haired demon: Lee Chaolan. A successful businessman, rich, famous and attractive, what more could a man want? A young orphan who lived a tough life on the streets grows up to be one of the wealthiest men on the planet. An inspirational tale of rags to riches. Heh, no. More luck than anything. I was brought into a family, you might have heard of them: the Mishima’s. Yeah, that’s right, the family that owns the seemingly omnipotent Mishima Zaibatsu. The leader of the family brought me into the family as just a young boy. Not for reasons of love, not from the kindness in his heart, just as a training partner for his son, Kazuya Mishima. If it wasn’t for that then God knows where I would be now.
“Heihahci Mishima is dead,” the words echoed through his skull, reducing in volume, but never quite going away. he had been sitting there, looking at some reports. he had the radio on in the background to just to kill the silence. He always hated the silence, it gave him too much of a reason to think. He had much to think about: Childish desires of revenge that he had long put behind him, or so he liked to think; he still had a lingering hatred for the family that raised him. He’d been betrayed too many times. When he had just moved into his office, which still had not changed a bit in design, he made the mistake of letting the silence last way too often. He used to sit in his leather seat that hugged him like a glove with his elbows propped on the desk so he could rest his chin on his fists. The sunlight from the large arched window behind him gave him slight glazing of brightness as he remembered. He remembered old thoughts that left him sour. He remembered painful thoughts that left him resentful. He remembered thoughts of betrayal that filled him with rage. Silence was bad.
Heihachi was the source of most of these troubling thoughts. He always pictured how he would feel once the old man’s death finally came around; he imagined he would feel relived, glad and happy, but this was not the case. Instead, Lee was left with feelings of sadness, despair and regret. Why wasn’t he happy? Why wasn’t he glad that he had the opportunity to seize power of the Zaibatsu? Then he realised why it wasn’t like he wanted it to be. Heihachi Mishima made Lee who he was. Without Heihachi there would be no money, no education, no hope.