The Intrusion. Aftermath
I followed Jane out and climbed into her car.
"There's a lot I want to say and a lot I want to hear, so let's talk outside."
"Okay."
Jane drove fast, pulling us out of Full Sail University in no time.
"Hungry? Want to grab something quick?"
"Uh… my clothes are kind of like this right now…"
I'd rushed out still wearing my wrestling gear. Calling it gear was generous—it was basically a bikini. There was nowhere I could go looking like this.
"Ah. Right."
"We can just eat at my place. Throw some meat on the grill or whatever."
"You cook?"
"I can handle the simple stuff."
"I'll have to bring you some kimchi later, then."
Jane's husband was a chef, so her kimchi would probably be incredible. Jackpot.
"I'd be so grateful."
"Alright. I'll pack some up for you tomorrow. I'll drop you off at home. What's your address?"
I told her. Just like Sophia before her, Jane seemed relieved that I lived in a decent neighborhood.
The system gave me the place, so I don't know the exact price… just how good a house did it hand me?
Thanks, Siri.
"Anyway, the promo wasn't bad," Jane said. "Next time, though, try building a little more suspense—or draw the crowd in so they react."
"How do I do that?"
"Even something simple works. Ask, 'Do you know who I am?' and wait for the crowd to answer. That makes them focus harder and get more invested."
"Got it. I understand."
After that she kept giving advice—my moves were too rushed, she said; leave even a single extra second so the audience could burn the image into their eyes.
We reached my place in under twenty minutes.
"You worked hard today. Go eat and get some sleep."
"Thank you for everything today. Drive safe."
"Will do. See you tomorrow."
"Yes. Take care."
The moment I stepped inside I flung my gear bag aside. I hadn't actually wrestled a match, and the venue had been less than a quarter the size of TPA's, but meeting so many unfamiliar faces in an unfamiliar space had clearly drained me more than I realized.
I sank into the sofa like I was melting into it.
"Right. Phone."
I dug through the bag, pulled out the phone I'd left switched off, and powered it on. The second the screen lit up, message tones started chiming one after another.
Hmm. Alf's text didn't sound like his usual self.
Ah, whatever. Shower, eat, sleep—in that order.
Until last year, Korea's BI Sports had carried every WWO match live in real time. But wrestling lived and died on its ring segments and storylines; live broadcasts forced the commentary team into rough, on-the-fly interpretation, and the flavor never quite landed.
Law and Smashdown streamed live through the OTT service Net Market, so there was no helping those. NEXT, which didn't stream, had started a pilot program the previous month: rapid translation and subtitle work, then a recorded broadcast in the evening instead of the dead of night.
BI Sports ran two pro-wrestling commentary teams. One handled Smashdown, the other Law; they rotated on NEXT.
Tonight Law's team—nicknamed the "Hoho Brothers," caster Yang Seong-ho and color commentator Jo Dae-ho—was on duty.
Jo Dae-ho walked into the green room and sat down. The door opened almost immediately and Yang Seong-ho came in.
"Dae-ho hyung. Did you catch the NEXT show last night?"
"No. The PD begged us not to watch ahead of time because our reactions matter. Wait—did you watch it?"
"No, I was asleep at that hour. The PD and the writers kept saying tonight's NEXT was a massive hit, so I figured maybe you'd seen it."
"What even happened? Tag-team number-one contender match, Joshua's title defense… that's about it. Did Joshua lose the belt?"
Yang shook his head at once.
"No idea. They just said it was huge. Told us to brace ourselves."
"Damn it. Can't even search."
"Hyung, should we just…?"
"Should we?"
Ten years working together meant they were perfectly in sync. They were reaching for their phones when the green-room door opened again.
"You're both here. Final makeup check, then we go live."
At the junior PD's words they shoved their phones away. In the end they walked into the broadcast without ever checking the NEXT match.
Mina Keynes's loss was a mild surprise, but scenarios like that were common enough. After that the show rolled along in its usual rhythm—wrestlers grinding hard for a call-up to Law or Smashdown. At best it was solid; at worst it lacked any real spark. Anyone with real star power would have been called up already.
A short commercial break.
"Same as always. I thought something would explode in the tag match."
"Must be saved for the main event."
Jo Dae-ho said it while glancing at the PD and writers standing in front of him. They were smiling faintly.
"Guess so. Song PD, if this isn't actually huge, you're dead."
"Dae-ho sunbae! If it is huge, are you buying the soju?"
The PD grinned and threw down the wager.
"If I'm so shocked I stop talking mid-sentence, I'll buy galbi and soju. Deal?"
"You're on. Haha."
"Ha! I've got over twenty years in wrestling. You think something's going to surprise me?"
"We'll see."
Jo Dae-ho was the only Korean wrestler who had trained in the United States. He had cut his teeth in Australian and American independents and worked as a talent in Japan. With a little more physical size he might have made it as far as TPA. Experience like that meant even a ten-meter bump only earned a loud reaction for the audience—he himself never truly startled.
After the sudden bet with the PD, the main event began.
"Joshua's Enzuigiri! Ahmed ducks under it—and hits the waiting lariat!"
The kick of confidence missed, and Joshua walked straight into the counter.
"Ahmed came in incredibly prepared. He's reading every single one of Joshua's attacks."
"The local commentary team is praising Ahmed's preparation too. We might see a new champion tonight."
"After four straight losses, Ahmed's finally going to win."
Right then Ahmed's missile dropkick smashed into Joshua's face. The impact drove Joshua backward; he collided hard with the referee, and the official tumbled out of the ring.
Both Yang Seong-ho and Jo Dae-ho recognized the spot for what it was—the "huge" moment Song PD had promised was starting.
"The ref's down. That's a massive variable."
Ahmed forced Joshua's legs into a wide V and dropped both feet into a leg drop right between them. Joshua clutched his groin and writhed.
"Ohhh! The Leg Split Drop connected clean!"
"Jo Dae-ho, that's a move that really shouldn't land properly, right?"
"Well… every man knows that particular pain."
As if once wasn't enough, Ahmed set up for a second one.
That was when a fierce guitar riff tore through the arena.
Even Jo Dae-ho and Yang Seong-ho, with more than a decade of commentary between them, had never heard the riff before.
"Who is that?"
"No idea. First time for me too. Looks like the local team hasn't heard it either—Booker K is completely lost."
Someone appeared in a low crouch and shot down the ramp toward the ring.
"A skateboard? She's riding a skateboard."
The figure hopped off the board and climbed into the ring. Both commentators went silent.
An East Asian woman with beauty rarely seen even on music shows stepped through the ropes in bikini wrestling gear. Her face was striking enough; her body was another shock entirely. She had glamorous curves in the chest and hips, yet her arms were so slender she looked nothing like a wrestler.
She flung her bag to snatch Ahmed's attention, then immediately hit a German suplex.
"Wh-who is that?"
"I don't… I don't know. I've never seen this wrestler before."
A Lionsault followed. Not the most difficult move, but the jump was high and she arched her back into a perfect half-circle before crashing onto Ahmed's chest.
"Is she from Japan?"
"If she were Japanese I'd know. I still keep in touch with the Japanese scene. I've never heard of a wrestler this beautiful over there."
"Booker K and Cody look just as clueless. Booker especially is panicking."
The unidentified woman planted another leg drop, then hauled Ahmed up and locked his head between her pale thighs.
"A figure-four?"
The moment Jo Dae-ho said it, she seized Ahmed by both sides of the waist and hoisted him high.
"Huuuh—"
"Wha…"
She dropped straight down and drove him into the canvas.
—THUD—
That finished Ahmed.
"I… I can't believe what I'm seeing. Is this CGI? Or does Ahmed have a wire on him?"
"Ahmed's official listed weight is a hundred and fifteen kilos. That woman can't be more than fifty-five on a heavy day, and she just lifted a man twice her size. Not a regular fireman's carry—she powerbombed him…"
"Have you ever seen anything like this, Jo Dae-ho?"
"Never."
While they spoke she sprang lightly onto the top rope in a single hop, clearly ready to finish Ahmed. Then she jumped—only this time the target was Joshua, who was just starting to rise.
"And there's the Eclipse."
"Yeah. That's not an easy move, yet the hang time is so long she makes it look effortless. Still no idea what's going on, though. I thought she came out to save Joshua… clearly not."
When Booker K asked what the hell she was doing, she crooked a finger at him, then winked. The camera caught the close-up.
"Wow. She's genuinely gorgeous. Idol-center level. Would be nice if she were Korean… but no chance, right?"
"Right. A Korean with that face would already be an entertainer. Probably Japanese or Chinese raised in the States."
Only then did the woman take a microphone.
Her clear, lovely voice drew an immediate cheer from the crowd. She glanced around the seats, then dropped another kick onto Ahmed, who was trying to get up again.
"There's the S-Kick too. Booker K is loving this."
"Even as a sneak attack, she just completely demolished two male wrestlers. Whichever side she ends up on, the women's division is about to have an earthquake."
"Haha. Preferable if it's Law, of course."
"Same here."
She continued her introduction.
"Ah! She's with TPA. That explains the invasion."
"We've been neglecting TPA lately, so we completely missed a talent like this appearing. Viewers, we sincerely apologize."
"Shall we hear more?"
—Whoa, whoa—
Charina playfully hushed the roaring crowd.
Every time she paused, the crowd exploded. The arena held fewer than five hundred seats, yet the heat felt like five thousand.
One fan already had a board with "Charina♡" scrawled across it.
—Yes!—
"The crowd reaction is insane. Feels like John Cena coming out of retirement."
"It really is. A star is being born."
Pleased with the answer, she waved back at the fans.
With that, Charina hopped back on the skateboard and shot up the ramp. The main event was ruled a no-contest.
The screen cut to closing comments.
"Whew. Tonight on NEXT we saw an invasion by TPA's Charina. Could this be the start of a full TPA Invasion?"
"Too early to say. We'll know more after next week's TPA PPV, Emergence."
"After looking completely lifeless at Hot Slam, everyone thought TPA had entered a slump… yet they were hiding a card like this."
"Exactly. I need to study who Charina is right away. Viewers, we sincerely apologize for not being able to give you better information tonight."
The Hoho Brothers bowed deeply toward the camera. When they lifted their heads, PD Song Min-cheol was grinning from ear to ear, exactly as he'd expected.
And the match wasn't just lighting up Korea. Across Canada, Japan, Mexico, Britain, and the rest of Europe—anywhere people watched WWO—Charina's intrusion was becoming a massive talking point.