The roar of the turbines had ceased as soon as the Mishima Zaibatsu's private jet touched down in South Korea. The sky was overcast, as if it knew a man like Heihachi Mishima had arrived. With his imposing, upright figure and a frown by default, he descended the stairs with heavy steps, as if each footstep wanted to leave an imprint on the concrete. At his side, with a grace that contrasted with her brutality, walked his elegantly dressed wife.

"Hmph..." Heihachi snorted as he adjusted the collar of his fur coat. "I knew you shouldn't come. Boring meetings are for old men with too much money. And men like me... are in charge of making even more money."

He turned his face slightly to look at her, with that grimace of his, a mixture of a contained smile and a warning.

"You could be at home. You know? Lying in a silk chair, drinking expensive wine, and being beautiful. No one would stop you. And I wouldn't have to worry about Koreans getting distracted by what's mine."

He stopped just before entering the embassy building, while one of his assistants held the door for him.

"But no, you decided to come. So I'm warning you something, woman: don't interfere. Just relax, get comfortable, smile... and let me dominate this meeting like I dominate everything in my life."

The thunder of his laughter reverberated in the air.

"GWAHAHAHA! At least try not to make any diplomats fall in love with me while I conquer the damn continent!"