The Old Guard

The place Charlotte led me to was the women's locker room.

One of them was fiddling with her phone. The other was hard at work sewing.

"Girls. Guess who I brought with me?"

Charlotte said it in a brighter, livelier voice than anything I'd heard from her so far.

Only then could I see their faces properly.

Alicia Blitz, the one they called the Fairy, and "Best" Vianna Belair.

"Hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Charina."

"Huh?"

"Is this her? Wow."

They set down whatever they were doing, jumped to their feet, and welcomed me.

"Oh my. You're even prettier in person."

"Wow. You really do look like a fairy."

"Fairy, my ass! How old is Alicia supposed to be?"

"Ha! I can't even—! She's practically at retirement age."

"What did you just say? Hmph! I've still got ten good years left in me."

The fairy comment had planted a seed, and now Alicia and Charlotte were going at each other like cats.

It was exactly like watching Alf and Selma bicker.

Except these two had more than twenty championship reigns between them. And when they'd worked as a tag team, they'd projected an almost invincible force. Push or no push, they were people who had delivered that level of in-ring excellence.

And the other one was Vianna Belair, with her long braid hanging all the way down to her ankles. She'd come out of track and field, and her physical gifts were the real deal. At a little over 170 centimeters and just past 70 kilograms, she was the kind of athlete who could hoist 120-kilogram Nadia Jackson clean off the mat.

"You really are gorgeous. How does someone even look like that? Alicia! We should give the Fairy nickname to her instead."

"Vianna! Not you too!"

"Our Alicia still looks like a fairy on the outside, sure—but the age thing is fair game."

"Did you two rehearse this? Hmph."

Alicia talked tough, but the mischief was written all over her face.

"Glad you came. Sit down for a second."

I sat where Vianna gestured, and the others settled into their seats around me.

"Girl, look at these arms. Thinner than my wrists. How do you even generate that kind of power with these?"

Alicia, sitting right beside me, kneaded my arm as she said it.

"Completely smooth and soft. Weren't you scared doing hardcore?"

"Of course I was terrified. But we had a long prep window, and Anne had so much experience that we just took it piece by piece until it felt doable."

We were under different banners, and since I was still TPA, not much of my information had circulated. The two of them proceeded to bury me under a barrage of questions.

"You come from elite sports?"

"Marathon? What were your times?"

"You put anything in your hair? The texture is incredible."

"You're basically bare-faced. What do you put on your skin?"

"Got a boyfriend? Don't just date anybody. You'll end up bleeding for it like someone we know."

Charlotte's face flared at Alicia's jab, but she couldn't quite deny it.

Then the questions shifted to the ring.

"I hear your selling is ridiculous. Work a match with me sometime."

"Vianna! Obviously the senior goes first."

"Heh. Hahaha."

Charlotte laughed as she listened to them.

"What? Just because you're the senior, you go first?"

"Charlotte, sit this one out. You're later."

"Girls. Why do you think I walked in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here with Rina in the first place? Hmm?"

"No way…"

"Charlotte. You already booked the match?"

Looking thoroughly pleased with herself, Charlotte made an O.K. sign with her fingers.

"That's not fair."

"How is that even allowed?"

"It is allowed. I just stormed into the meeting room and locked in a head-to-head for Halloween Battle."

"Cheap."

"Right? I thought she'd gotten better, but she's back to being cheap."

"You—!"

"You are being cheap!"

They say when three women gather, the dishes start breaking. Completely true. The old sayings never miss.

"You ever pissed yourself mid-match yet?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why the shock? There's not a single wrestler who hasn't pissed themselves at least once."

"Plenty of people have shit themselves from the impact of hitting the canvas, too. Especially on the men's side…"

I was past surprised. I was stunned.

"That's why we almost never wear white or gray trunks if we can help it. Especially against powerhouses."

"I always thought it was just because they get dirty so fast."

"Nope. If you piss yourself, it shows immediately. That's why."

"Sounds like a lie, right? It's real."

My head was spinning. Part of me wondered if they were messing with me. But it wasn't just one of them—all three were saying it with a straight face. I couldn't not believe them.

"Charina. That's your real name, right? Can I call you Rina?"

"Yes. Please do."

How many men in the world actually disliked Alicia Blitz? Even when she ran extreme, broken, villainous gimmicks, the guys still cheered for her. And I'd been a fan of hers in my previous life. Getting close to her would be pure gratitude.

"Let's grab something to drink. These two are both coffee. You mint chocolate?"

I shook my head immediately.

"No. Coffee for me too. I can eat mint chocolate, but I don't actually like it."

All three of them burst out laughing.

"Who cooked up that kayfabe for you?"

"I made it myself. Not because I liked it. Because it let me show the fans something a little more shocking."

"Ugh. So you're grinding just to get by too."

"Come on. Anyone else, maybe—but Blitz, of all people, shouldn't be saying that. You ran the psychopath gimmick."

"That wasn't a gimmick. I was genuinely depressed back then."

Hmm. Running a gimmick like that while depressed… wouldn't that just make you weirder? Goddamn Victor McMahon, that bastard.

"What about the others?"

"Some just didn't come in today. And Ring of Crown is tomorrow, so a few of the girls headed that way."

Even so, Vianna had come because her husband was working for NEXT tonight, and Charlotte and Alicia were here to do a ring segment and heat up the crowd before the show started.

"You still do that kind of thing with your seniority?"

"We do it because we're veterans."

"Jack Cena was still doing it right up until retirement."

"Ah."

"Want to come up with us?"

Alicia offered to bring me out with them, but I shook my head.

"I'm already getting told to dial it back because I'm soaking up too much of the spotlight. And now that I've got a match booked with Charlotte, I probably won't even be able to work TPA shows for a while."

"Ah, right. You set The Live roster by fan vote, don't you? If one person works too many shows, yeah—people get jealous."

"Probably."

These three weren't subject to that system themselves, so they didn't really know how the selections worked. I had to walk them through it carefully.

"Looking at you, you'd make the cut even if you needed a judges' free pass."

"I think so."

"Doesn't look like there's much we can do to help."

Not much? There was plenty.

"Um… would you mind following me and my friends on Star? With the three of you, the visibility would make a huge difference."

"That much is easy."

"Sure. What's hard about that? Who do you want us to follow?"

I introduced Selma, the Inquisitors, Anne, Olivia, Taina, and the rest.

While they were still tapping away at their phones, a quest alert chimed in my head.

A quest? Now? This is not the timing for a quest. What is this?

I pretended to glance around the locker room and quietly whispered Quest to check it.

A million in a hundred days?

I only had 140,000 right now.

Is this bastard out of its mind?

Ugh. At this rate I was going to have to start posting bikini shots like Selma.

A little later, the wrestlers who'd been practicing the battle royal started filtering back in one and two at a time, and with Charlotte's help I made the rounds—Smash Down, Law, even NEXT—greeting everyone.

"What? She's already on Charlotte's line?"

"Different company, though…"

"She's prettier in person, but she looks even thinner. Hit her a little hard and she might break. You gonna be okay?"

"Oh! The star of Match of the Month. Nice to meet you. I'm Roxanna Perez."

A few faces stayed blank, but most of them smiled and welcomed me.

"Being with you, no one's reacting coldly."

"The nasty ones got cleaned out a long time ago—me, Vicky, and Nadia took care of that. On the men's side, the ones who used to pick open fights out in the open are pretty much gone too. Completely different from before."

"I see."

A little later Charlotte and Alicia left to prep for the opening, and I watched on the monitor with Vianna.

Live in the arena?

Not just Charlotte—Alicia and Vianna both told me it was better on TV. Other matches were fine, but a match like this, they said, you go out there and you don't see a thing.

"Wrestling gear. Doesn't it wear you out making it yourself?"

"You get used to it. And it's fun."

"I heard a rumor you were going to start a gear company."

"I'm prepping for it, but it probably won't happen until after I retire."

After the two of them came back from their mic work to heat the crowd, the women's battle royal began.

Battle royal?

Listening to the veterans and watching it on TV in the locker room had been the right call.

Twenty-eight people flooding the ring at once turned it into pure chaos. Two or three would tumble out at a time, and even on television there were moments you simply missed.

Beyond that, I finally understood why WWO avoided this format. The entrances themselves were barely more than a quick introduction, and with everyone pouring in as a group, plenty of wrestlers just got buried—and the match itself was the same. I couldn't even properly pick out Selma in her corner of the ring.

The moment I saw Selma and Olivia go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over, I stood up.

"Selma just got eliminated. I'm going to go check on her."

I bowed politely, and Charlotte caught my arm.

"Rina. You free this weekend?"

"Yes. Nothing."

"We don't have much time to get our timing down. Want to practice at TPA, or should we go to WWO headquarters?"

"I'd rather not have an audience. Um… if it's all right with you, would you want to do it at my place?"

"Your place? You've got a ring at home?"

"Yes. A full WWO-spec ring."

All three of them looked genuinely stunned.

"You're rich."

"Come on. All three of you are rich."

"Still. None of us have a ring at home."

Charlotte had assumed that with a wrestler for a father she'd have one, but living in New York, the conditions just weren't there.

"Then… would it be okay if we stayed at your place for a few days?"

"Of course."

"Great. I'll come by tomorrow afternoon."

"Include me. I want to see it too."

Alicia wanted to come as well, and I agreed without hesitation. Fan feelings aside, the more people I could work timing with, the better.

Vianna, left out, looked deeply disappointed—but her husband's WWO call-up was on the line, so there was nothing to be done.

"At least it's not that far. I'll come hang out sometime."

Vianna, who lived out near Tampa, finished her goodbyes with a promise to visit later.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Selma was with Olivia, who'd been eliminated right after her.

"Good work."

"Yeah. Ha. My head's still spinning. You were smart not to enter."

"I could tell. Midway through I went to shove someone and realized it was Taina—nearly jumped out of my skin."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"You didn't recognize Taina? It was that bad?"

"Yeah."

Hearing a veteran like Olivia say she couldn't even identify Taina—who she'd been hanging around with lately—was genuinely startling.

"Couldn't tell whose arm was whose, whose leg was whose. Honestly, getting out early might've been the better deal."

"I took a clean shot to the stomach with a foot. And I wasn't the only one who got legitimately hit—plenty of people did."

"Selma. Is your stomach okay?"

"I've got abs of steel. I'm fine."

Hmm. If I'd gone in, would I have been the concentrated target? Even if no one said it out loud, I had a feeling more than a few people were quietly resentful.

"The winner gets a straight ticket to The Live, but honestly—if you're good enough to win that thing, you'd make the cut without it."

"True enough."

The match kept rolling, and then three women who'd been brawling among themselves suddenly tumbled out in a heap. That left seven on the ring.

"Getting long."

"Yeah."

"Those three who just went out—Law and Smash Down girls, right? They're going to catch hell for that."

The women's match had been allotted a full hour. We were only about thirty minutes in.

Meaning the remaining seven had to fill another half hour.

"Ugh. They haven't even worked together, and they've got to stretch thirty minutes?"

"At least there are a lot of veterans left in there."

"Not our problem. They'll figure it out."

Olivia was right. Taina and Natasha were still in it, but it was someone else's match.

"Oh—right. Charlotte, Vianna, and Alicia all followed you. Just so you know."

"Huh?"

"Why all of a sudden?"

"I asked them to. Anne and Dorothy, the Inquisitors kids too. Even a little extra visibility helps."

At that, Selma and Olivia lit up like they'd just won the battle royal themselves.