Main Quest Complete

The bell rang out to signal the start of the match—ding, ding, ding—and I couldn't help but freeze in place.

If Olivia hadn't charged straight in for the lock-up, I probably would have stood there dazed for a good while—or checked the rewards first. In that sense, I was lucky my debut opponent was Olivia. If it had been Selma, or Taina who had been Selma's debut opponent, it might have taken me longer to snap out of it. Because it was Olivia—because of that massive weight and crushing power pressing down on me—I came to my senses immediately.

After successfully finishing the match, I wanted to check right away. But I was swamped receiving congratulations from the general manager and the staff, and just like last week, from the Dudley Boys and the academy coaches who had deliberately come to watch again this week. In the end, I only found time once I got home.

The match itself had been quite intense, but I hadn't overdone it. The flow was almost identical to a house show. Still, I must have been tense because it was my debut. The moment I sank onto the sofa, my whole body seemed to ache. Even so, it was time to check.

“Open quest window.”

I tapped Yes with my fingertip.

Balance Sense, huh. That was good. A lot of the moves I used involved jumping, so it would definitely help. It would also come in handy for cage matches or Lion's Salts, which carried a sneaky high risk of injury.

The Timer was fantastic too. I'd heard that nailing match timing was the line that separated first-rate wrestlers from the absolute elite. With this, I'd almost never miss my cues. Producers were going to love my matches later on.

And then… Nosebleed. What a weird one to hand out. I'd expected something game-like for a skill—Berserker Mode or whatever—but every single one was grounded in reality. Still, not bad. Normally you had to hide little metal shards or blades to sell a bloody spot. I wouldn't need to bother. And since I barely felt pain and my selling suffered for it, this one skill alone could cover that weakness.

Alright! Next up—the items.

“Oh. These look pretty legit. Wonder what they actually say?”

These were genuinely excellent. Better than the skills, even. It meant I could take something the general manager was hemming and hawing over for a final decision and tip it my way. Intermediate sat at 50%—what would Advanced look like? Could it flip even a 30% willingness? And if a top-tier version existed, I bet it would make them accept even the most ridiculous scenario I threw out. Wonder if there were more quests that handed these out? When was my long-term scenario going to drop? Man, I wanted to use one already.

What the hell? System, you little bastard—are you actually on my side? Right before a hardcore match with Anne, exactly what I needed dropped into my lap. Haha. With this, fear was bye-bye. Even without looking in the mirror, I could feel my mouth stretching ear to ear.

“Heehee.”

A quiet little giggle slipped out. Tonight was going to be a good night's sleep. I grabbed a simple late-night snack, washed up, and crawled into bed in high spirits. I double-checked the positions of the baseball bat and shotgun I kept ready for any unexpected trouble, then closed my eyes.

“Yes. That's what I'm talking about. What is it this time? Open quest window.”

A standing ovation in a match against Dorothy… I'd have to work on chemistry with her first. And hitting the StarStar follower count. I'd need to talk that over with Clint, my assigned staffer. If I posted my StarStar handle on the board and put a little more care into the photos I uploaded, I figured I could fill a decent chunk of it.

Stacey had taken an early morning flight from Orlando up to Stamford, Connecticut. Even rushing, she didn't arrive until past lunchtime.

“Should've just borrowed Dad's private jet…”

She had her own, but her husband Paul was using it. With a private plane she wouldn't have had to wait for a commercial flight to Connecticut—she would have gotten in at least two hours earlier. She rode with the secretary who had come to pick her up and headed straight for WWO headquarters, arriving shortly after.

“Madam CEO, you're here.”

“Hello, Madam CEO.”

She acknowledged the greetings from staff starting at the entrance with a wave of her hand and made her way to the CCO's office—Chief Content Officer. Her husband Paul Levesque's office. She had called from the airport, so Paul was alone inside.

“Stacey. You made it. Tough trip?”

“Yeah. Looks like you're busy yourself.”

Paul was reading through documents with a tiny pair of reading glasses that looked comically small on his frame. They exchanged a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, then she pulled a chair up in front of his desk and sat.

“Did you see the footage?”

“Of course. Haaah. It was a real shock. She's a complete monster. A monster! More shocking than the first time I saw Silverberg or Bron Lesnar.”

Paul took off his glasses and shook his head.

“If you were that blown away, how do you think the kids and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I felt? The crowd?”

“Right. That crowd reaction. The commentators going speechless. All of it makes sense. How does ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that kind of power come out of a body that size? I wanted to bring her in and run tests. And why the hell did a kid like that go to Team 3D Academy? If she'd come to the WWO Performance Center, she could've been getting paid to train.”

Stacey was curious about that too. One side was free and even threw in a little meal money. The other included meals but charged a hefty monthly tuition. Even if the WWO Performance Center required a full year, she wasn't that old—by any normal standard it didn't make sense.

“I'm wondering the same thing.”

“Exactly. I want to call Bubba right now and ask. Should I just dial him up?”

Stacey waved him off at that.

“Honey, don't. I'm curious too, but it's not urgent.”

“Fine. But why did Casey go there?”

“School friends dragged her along. We'll talk about that later. First—who were the little shits on monitoring duty last night? Call them in right now.”

Paul just shook his head without answering.

“What? You don't know?”

“No. Their desks were already cleared this morning. I terminated their contracts on the spot. No need for you to dirty your hands over something this petty.”

Stacey had always liked this side of Paul. Inside the ring he was vicious, in the office he was cold—but with family he was meticulous.

“Thanks, honey. So did that bastard just not monitor, or did he not report?”

“Apparently he skipped monitoring to play games.”

“Haaah! Those damn games ruin everyone—kids and adults alike.”

“Heh. Thanks to that, WWO 2K27 sold pretty well. 2K28's already late, so for 2K29 we should make it mobile-compatible too.”

“Not a bad idea. Throw in a card-gacha system like the soccer games. The 2001 version of Triple J would be the absolute strongest.”

“Exactly. That'd be it. And it'd make decent money.”

The conversation drifted into games, and they bounced rising ideas back and forth.

“Honey, so how is it? Any buzz yet? What about TPA's ratings?”

“It's not national broadcast, so I don't have exact numbers yet. Should know by tomorrow. Given TPA's size, maybe four hundred thousand people watched at best. But that's not the real issue.”

“Then what is?”

“The Hardy Boys, the Dudley Boys, Adolf Ziegler and the rest plastered it all over StarStar. Their in-ring skills have dropped off, but they've still got some popularity left. So people are finding it through word of mouth. It's already up as YouTube Shorts too. And Charlotte even called me asking if I'd seen it.”

The sudden mention of Charlotte Flair piqued Stacey's curiosity.

“Charlotte? Why?”

“She's 'The Queen,' and that one's just 'Charina,' so she's pissed. She told me to change the nickname to 'Empress.'”

“She's joking, right?”

“Probably. Meaning bring her in. Meaning she wants to break her in the ring.”

Even to Stacey, that sounded exactly like Charlotte talking around what she really meant. And it meant the in-ring work had been good enough that Charlotte herself wanted a piece.

“Other talent too?”

“A few reached out. Emma Moon because of the Eclipse—that springboard cutter Selma hit—and Rodge left a comment on Adolf Ziegler's post. Never expected the Dudley Boys to raise monsters like these. Maybe I shouldn't have cut the deal.”

Paul let a faint note of regret slip into his voice.

“Honey. How would you know? Maybe they only raised them because the deal got cut.”

“Hmm. Possible…”

“Let's get to the real point. Can we bring Charina in?”

“Hard. She just debuted. Contract's got at least a year left. We could buy her out after a release, but TPA would ask for a million dollars minimum.”

“Then they'll bid even higher than that.”

“Huh?”

“You know Jane Kim too, right?”

Paul nodded at the sudden mention of Jane Kim.

“Of course. Worked with her for about a year in WWO. Best technician of her era, hands down. Problem was she was too good technically. If there'd been people who could sell for her, she would've gone much further even without strong promos. Jane Kim was born in the wrong era. Should've come along ten years later.”

“Yeah, I remember. She was right there with the top male technicians of the time. And right now Charina's entrance theme is the same song Jane Kim used in TPA.”

“What?”

Stacey carefully explained to the startled Paul.

“Casey told me. It's the song Jane Kim used for her TPA debut… She only used it briefly before switching, so you probably never knew. TPA's old-school fans are going to lose their minds. And did you see her post-match victory performance? Whoever cooked up that gimmick was sharp as hell. Eating something that seductively—whatever company makes that product is going to come knocking with an ad offer any day now. Even if it isn't that company, she can just switch to eating something else, so other brands will take interest too. A rookie who already has—or can attract—personal sponsorships is going to cost a lot more. So about that…”

Stacey dropped her voice and pulled her chair in closer for the last part.

“I heard something from the Orlando bank president at the charity gala last time.”

“Yeah? What?”

“TPA is drowning because they can't even pay back three million dollars. Maturity's in three months? Two? The existing loans run through next fall, and total debt is around ten million.”

Paul was genuinely stunned that three million alone had them on the ropes.

“Bruce Stevenson's finances are that bad? Did he gamble it away?”

“Nothing like that. Aggressive investments all tanked and the cash flow got tangled. Then the divorce hit and half the assets vanished. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hmm. Bringing in those four new debuts alone would cost at least four million, wouldn't it?”

Paul understood exactly what his wife was thinking and saying. In this, Stacey was the spitting image of her father. Victor McMahon had swallowed CWC this way, and CEW the same way. Both of them had watched it happen from right beside him.

“You want to swallow TPA?”

“Yeah. If we throw in just a little more, we can take the whole thing, right? I looked into it a bit—there are some solid workers there. Could put some life back into a stagnating WWO. The infrastructure's decent too. TPA has its own arena, so NEXT wouldn't need to keep renting university gyms. Factor in the building and the fanbase, and this is a multi-fold profit play.”

His wife was right. Even just flipping the building after the absorption would leave a healthy profit.

“Got a method?”

“Yeah. The bank still clearly doesn't know TPA is showing signs of life. We'll move ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fast, pay a premium, and buy up TPA's debt from the bank. At the same time we'll meet some of the major shareholders who hold TPA equity and lock down shares.”

“You're the CEO. Once you've decided, push it through.”

At Paul's words, Stacey smiled and waved a hand.

“Come on. A husband still needs to know. It's the little things like this that leave people feeling slighted. And I can't do it all alone. I'm pulling people from legal and strategy—the ones who know how to keep their mouths shut. So you need to know too.”

Her business sense took after her father, but her character was the complete opposite. Paul stood, cupped Stacey's cheek, and kissed her deeply.