War Simulation
The next morning, Jane wasted no time calling John to declare that she would join the TF team.
"Good thinking. Let's make this work going forward."
"Don't you ever threaten me like that again. Even if it means getting buried in the wrestling business, I'll blow everything wide open."
"Whoa, whoa. Calm down, Jane. Offering to make you team leader is a threat now?"
"Stop trying to tie me to Rina like that."
"Wouldn't it be great if you became Charina's guardian? Most people would kill for that role."
He was so slick about it that pressing further felt pointless; she wasn't going to get the answer she wanted.
"Let's drop that subject. So how does this move forward from here?"
"First, the day after tomorrow—Thursday—Paul will present the plan to the executives."
"What about the wrestlers?"
"We'll have to sit down and figure that out. For now, head over to Team 3D Academy."
"The Academy?"
"We've set up a temporary office there for secrecy. It wouldn't look good if word got out that you'd already made contact with us. That's where we'll put meat on the bones of the framework Rina built."
Jane nodded at that.
"That works. All right. I'll be there within the hour."
"Ugh. This is driving me crazy. I wish someone would just spit it out already."
For the past few days, showing up at TPA itself had been banned. That ban had finally lifted yesterday. The catch was that no show schedule had been posted. According to Dorothy, in situations like this they usually filled the week with highlight packages.
"I thought debuting was the end of it. Guess not."
"They're not going to cut us, right?"
"Rina! Did Jane tell you anything?"
Alf's question drew several pairs of eyes my way. How much should I say? How far could I go? While I hesitated, Dorothy stepped in.
"You think Jane knows? Even the general manager's in the dark. Whether it turns out good or bad, we'll find out once this meeting's over."
"Man. I want to train, but it feels like everyone's watching."
Objectively speaking, our little group of four rookies, Anne, Olivia, and the rest of us had a high chance of surviving. Dorothy was a bit more of a gray area, but the friction between her and WWO had been about production, not her ability. If she just swallowed a little pride, that problem would sort itself out. Training hard in this atmosphere would only earn us dirty looks from the wrestlers hanging by a thread.
"You don't train when you're all wound up. That's how you get hurt. Just stretch."
"Olivia, you're only strict with me."
Ever since the Triple Threat match, Selma had been strangely obedient to Olivia. She pouted, but she didn't push back any further.
Then every single wrestler's phone went off at once—ringing, chiming, vibrating.
"Text came in."
"Oh. Looks like they finally decided."
"We can grab lunch and head over."
"Sounds good."
"Let's eat out today. Doesn't feel right eating here."
"Something light."
The wrestlers clustered nearby seemed to share the same thought; everyone got up at once. After lunch we gathered again, and that was when our general manager, the rest of the executives, and Paul Levesque walked in. Someone briefly made a fuss about Triple J showing up, but the room quieted down just as fast.
Paul Levesque climbed onto the ring near the entrance and stood on the apron. The presence he carried in the office and the presence he carried on the ring were two completely different animals. Even standing on the apron, he radiated a charisma—an aura—that made it feel like he was about to do something, like he might hit someone at any second.
"Hello, TPA wrestlers! Paul Levesque of WWO."
Scattered applause broke out.
"As already announced, unfortunately today's TPA show has been canceled. However, next week's show will go on as scheduled."
The news that next week's show was still happening drew cheers from part of the roster.
"Whew. Thank god."
"We're alive!"
"Next week I'm throwing everything I've got into the match."
It meant the merger wasn't happening immediately. Paul watched their reactions for a moment, then cleared his throat to cut them off.
"Ahem. That said, the shows will run differently from before. The scripts are currently being worked on over at WWO. They should drop next Tuesday, so until then, make sure your bodies are in peak condition. That is all."
"I have a question."
Someone raised a hand.
"Luke. What is it?"
"Is TPA staying intact?"
"You'll know when you see the script on Tuesday."
"I have a question too."
"Natasha is the last one. No more Q and A after her. Natasha, what is it?"
"Is a transfer to Law possible?"
"You'll know that from the script as well. Just make sure your body is truly ready."
Natasha clearly had no intention of leaving it at that.
"What exactly do you mean by 'make sure'? I'm already managing myself."
"Pfft. You're managing yourself? That's rich. I heard you barely train at all. If you'd been training properly, you wouldn't have used that combination of moves at Emergency. Compared to a few years ago, you haven't improved—you've gone backward."
"That was to match the timing—"
Her flimsy excuse made Paul snap.
"Natasha! Do you think we're idiots who can't even see that much?"
"That's not— I'm sorry."
Hit square in the bull's-eye, Natasha shut her mouth and lowered her head. Ha. This was the same Natasha who used to talk back to General Manager Karl Overdia around here, and the second Paul Levesque showed up she tucked her tail between her legs. If she'd gone toe-to-toe with Paul even here, I might have given her some personal credit. As it stood, that was the size of her vessel. Speaking up had only made things worse.
"Get your body right, and pay attention to your wrestling gear, hair, and makeup. That goes for the men too. Unlike TPA, WWO has more wrestlers than it needs. We don't have to take every half-baked act that walks through the door. Keep TPA running? We could just send our own kids down and be fine."
With that, Paul stepped down from the ring, exchanged a quick whisper with Karl Overdia, and left. Karl climbed up into the spot Paul had just vacated.
"What CCO Levesque said stands. The practice room will be open twenty-four hours, so take care of your bodies. Starting tomorrow morning at eight, WWO will conduct individual interviews with everyone. Make sure you show up so you don't put yourselves at a disadvantage."
He started to step down from the apron, and questions poured out of the wrestlers.
"General Manager Overdia, explain as much as you can."
"What's going to happen to you, sir?"
"What about our September PPV, Road of Victory?"
Karl answered each one with a heavy expression.
"My position and the staff's positions haven't been decided yet. From what Paul Levesque told me, it will depend on how well we support the script that drops on Tuesday."
I'd only seen him a handful of times, but Karl looked so defeated that if you didn't hand him a task right then he might just spiral into a wreck. I didn't know what the original plan between the two of them had been either, so I had no idea what WWO's first draft looked like. But once the scenario I put forward got adopted, TPA had already crossed the Rubicon.
Was I sorry? Not even a little. My life was on the line; TPA's circumstances had nothing to do with me. I'd always planned to leave the second I built enough name recognition or the second WWO made an offer. I'd gotten friendly with a few of the wrestlers, but on the front-office side the only people I was close to were Jane and Clint, who handled me. Jane was coming with me, and Clint was low enough on the ladder that they probably wouldn't bother cutting him. The wrestlers I was close to were going to land on their feet, so I felt zero guilt. Olivia and Dorothy might even end up thanking me.
"And Road of Victory is not happening. We'll be folding into WWO's October PPV instead."
"WWO's October show is Ring of Crown, though."
Ring of Crown was a champions-only clash between Law and Smash Down titleholders; most of the roster couldn't even get near it.
"Ring of Crown will still run on its own. They're expanding NEXT's Halloween Battle into a full WWO-scale event."
"Can we be on that?"
"Of course. Not everyone, but…"
Just getting onto NEXT would have been more than enough, and the moment he mentioned Law or Smash Down, most of the wrestlers erupted in cheers.
"Halloween Battle? What am I dressing up as?"
"Am I finally going national?"
"I'm going to prepare like my life depends on it!"
Karl fielded questions for another half hour or so before heading out.
The next morning, the WWO interviews began.
"We'll start the interviews now. First up: Natasha, Luke, Team Heritage, and Elizabeth."
They weren't doing them one by one; they were bundling people in groups of four or five. After about twenty minutes those four came out, and the other wrestlers swarmed them immediately.
"Luke, what did they say?"
"Basically that they're going to keep an eye on certain things going forward. You know—fix whatever they don't like."
"Elizabeth, same for you? You're the IC Champion."
After Luke, Elizabeth spoke up loud enough for everyone to hear.
"You think those people even see a championship? My Frankensteiner. They said it's too dangerous right now, and if I can't hit it clean every time they're going to ban it."
Elizabeth's Frankensteiner was a little risky, true. On a normal day it was fine, but if she was gassed, if the opponent was a bit heavy, or if the timing was off, she would drive the other person's head straight into the mat.
Wrestlers kept getting called in one after another. Last of all, they called me, Anne, and Dorothy.
"You three have something separate."
"Aren't we also supposed to hear about our strengths, weaknesses, and what we need to fix?"
Anne asked, and the WWO interviewer just smirked.
"Anne. You just need to add one slam-type move before the reverse STO. You can do that right now, can't you?"
"Of course."
It was such a simple note that Anne answered loud and clear.
"And Dorothy, you've worked with us before, so you already know. Looking at you this time, it seems like a lot of that temper's been knocked out of you. Nothing left to fix."
"Arthur, thanks for the high praise."
"I rated you highly back then too. Your pride was the problem."
"Ha! After booking me as a jobber for four straight matches!"
Dorothy snorted at the man named Arthur.
"I wasn't even handling that side, and I sure as hell didn't write that script."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Heh. And Charina. Word from above is leave her alone—don't touch her."
"Excuse me?"
"What does that mean?!"
That wasn't me. Anne and Dorothy had both cried out in surprise.
"Upper management says they haven't seen any particular weaknesses yet, so for now just leave her be."
"Thank you for the high evaluation."
I'd expected them to at least ding me for the slightly awkward selling, but I hadn't expected praise that high.
"That wasn't my opinion, so no need to thank me. Bottom line is, upper management says there's nothing to tell you three about strengths, weaknesses, or things to fix."
"Yes."
"That's fine by me."
"Heh heh heh."
Arthur shifted in his seat and lowered his voice.
"From here on, this is confidential. Only a handful of people know, so if the information leaks, you three will be the first suspects."
"What is this about?"
"Huh?"
"If you can't keep a secret—if you think your mouth runs too free—you're free to walk out right now."
Nobody was walking out of a situation like this. When everyone stayed silent, Arthur nodded as if that settled it and opened his mouth.
"Starting tomorrow, the three of you report to Team 3D Academy. The Hardy Boys and the Dudley Boys will be waiting for you there. Anne's partners are the Hardy Boys. Dorothy's are the Dudley Boys. Charina, Adolf Ziegler will be waiting for you."
The suddenness of it made Dorothy fire off a question immediately.
"Adolf? Has he fully recovered?"
"Matches are still a stretch, they say. But daily life is fine."
"You're bringing in someone who hasn't even finished healing? What the hell are you people cooking up?"
"Dorothy, you'll find out when you get there. Hear it from them. And I was only told to pass this along. It looks like a massive scenario is in the works, so don't go blabbing to your close friends—keep your mouths shut. Come up with your own excuses."
The moment he said even the handler didn't know, Dorothy closed her mouth.