An Unlosable, Yet Dangerous Matchup

After wrapping up the chaos of Day 2, I headed back to the hotel still riding a full-blast dopamine high.

Selma had already showered and came out holding an aerosol pain-relief spray out toward me.

"Huh? What's this for?"

"Spray some on my right shoulder."

"Why, does it hurt? Where?"

"I took Metal McCool's chair shot wrong."

"Hey! Then you should've gone to medical!"

"It was fine in the arena. Once I got on the bus, it started throbbing."

Smack!

I slapped Selma across the back with my open palm.

"Ow! I'm the patient here!"

"Ugh! You idiot! You should've twisted your body properly on your own! When we get back to Orlando, we're drilling chair shots first thing."

"It's not that bad. I'll be fine after some sleep."

"Shut up!"

A Mentholatum-type lotion would've been better, honestly. I doused her shoulder in the spray, then worked the muscle with my fingertips, pressing firmly. Selma groaned with every press, but she knew I was trying to loosen her up, so she didn't try to run away from the pain.

The next morning, I woke up in a room that still reeked of the spray. It felt like the smell had soaked into my own body. I pulled the curtains open — the sun was just starting to rise.

"Woke up way too early."

Out of habit, I opened my phone and scrolled through the wrestling news. Most of the headlines were things like "Return of the Legends" or "War of the Ages." Even the "Masked Intruder's Run-In" had been buried under all of that.

Ah. Conclusion: I had been completely buried.

"Even with an item, I still can't compete with the legends. Haaah. If it hadn't been for the legends, I would've cleared the quest…"

Well. I still have to check the failure properly.

I glanced over at Selma, then quietly muttered, "Quest."

Whaaaat? Success?

Startled by the word "Success," I read the quest again.

"Ah! Among the wrestlers who competed! So it only applied to the wrestlers."

"Ugh… Li…na, what?"

My voice must have woken her — Selma stirred.

"Go back to sleep. It's still early."

"Mm."

Once I saw her drift off again, I fled to the bathroom. Then I stared at the quest window again. I'd assumed it was a failure and hadn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even gotten my hopes up — so seeing "Success" pop up felt way too good.

Time to check the rewards!

This one was surprisingly specific. Unlike the other active skills — Nosebleed or Alarm — this one even had a use limit and a duration. That probably meant it was that good, right?

As for the item reward, the Spotlight I'd already used had been restored — one charge back in inventory. If I used the skill and the item together, would there be a synergy effect? And later on, would this skill upgrade the way the Timer skill did? That would mean longer duration, more uses…

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

Monday, after we got back to Orlando, we were dismissed with no training. On Tuesday, the wrestlers gathered early in the morning.

Jane Kim made a rare appearance at TPA.

"I'll start by announcing the wrestlers who have matches on Law next Monday in Milwaukee."

Everyone knew Jane currently held more authority than even the general manager, so they simply listened in silence.

"The Inquisitors, Luke, Thunderstorm, Olivia, Isabel, Anne, Natasha, Vanessa — that's ten in total. Adolf Ziegler will be traveling with you, so no need to be too nervous."

"Yes, ma'am!"

The wrestlers answered in a loud chorus. Then Vanessa shot her hand up and spoke quickly.

"Um… Writer? Natasha isn't here."

Vanessa Wise. She'd been glued to Natasha's side, and now that Natasha had vanished, she looked like she was about to have a full-blown panic attack.

Selma and I had never once wanted to pick a fight with Vanessa when we came to TPA. She was a few months senior to us in the academy, and we hadn't had any particular grudge against her back then — if anything, we would've been fine getting along. But Vanessa had been the one who avoided us first.

"Natasha! Natasha Blancherd! Is she not here?"

Jane's voice cut sharp and high, but no answer came back.

"Any female wrestler who wants to go to Milwaukee in Natasha's place?"

Several hands went up. Jane picked one of them.

"Good. Yuri McDowell — you're going."

"Thank you."

Jane told the wrestlers heading out next Thursday to arrive in Milwaukee by Tuesday, spend a day practicing with their matchup opponents, then work the show. And since they had plenty of time, she was also putting them in charge of the house show scheduled before Thursday's TPA card.

"I'll tell you your opponents by the afternoon the day after tomorrow. You've got plenty of time, so that should be fine, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. No problem."

"Good. And for those of you who aren't going — you might go the week after, so there's no reason to celebrate or complain either way."

Jane then ran individual meetings with the wrestlers who weren't heading to Milwaukee. Some of them had matches on Thursday; some didn't. But everyone came out looking like they'd gotten answers they could live with — their expressions weren't bad.

Then Selma went in and came back out. She wore a strange expression, half-pleased and half the opposite.

"What? What'd she say?"

"My opponent's… kind of a lot."

"Who?"

"Lisa Rayple!"

Selma's opponent was genuinely shocking. Her first matchup was the women's division champion?

"This week? How many minutes?"

"No — two weeks from now, on Law, in Detroit. Entrance included, seven minutes total."

Seven minutes including the entrance meant the actual match would run about five. Even if she got completely steamrolled, it was still enough time for Selma to get her face in front of the crowd.

"At least you'll get a little spotlight. Go get thoroughly beaten and come back."

"Lina. There's no other way, is there?"

What variables could you even introduce in a five-minute squash match?

"If it were anyone else, maybe — but a champion? You're stuck. Still, I've heard Lisa Rayple's a decent person, so ask her to let you attack for the first two minutes. Then take a full three-minute beating and finish. Just wear something cute for the match."

"Ugh. Guess that's the only option. Still, I should get a little spotlight out of it. Oh — and the day after tomorrow, I'm working Dorothy at the house show."

"Like a dress rehearsal."

"Yeah. Jane said the same thing."

I also filled her in that the women on Law and Smash Down were "starving for wrestlers who can sell well."

Then it was my turn. I went in to see Jane.

"Lina, your opponent for The Live is locked in — Miyu Sky."

"Thank you."

Jane said she hadn't actually done anything special.

"Paul and John both already understood the delicate Korea-Japan dynamic, so they greenlit it immediately. I didn't have to persuade anyone. They were actually glad you didn't pick Stephen Bakker."

"That's a relief."

"But — and I'm not sure 'but' is the right word — you've got a match the day after tomorrow. Think of it as a kind of buildup."

"Are we doing a ring segment before that, at least?"

Jane shook her head right away.

"The day after tomorrow is Sayuri Sane of the Kabuki Girls. Then two weeks later you go to Detroit for Asuna. And the finale is Miyu Sky. The story is that you beat her two friends, so Miyu steps up for revenge."

A story where you beat two friends and the strongest one comes out for payback — that was fine. But three Japanese wrestlers in a row? That was a different conversation.

"Wait — I'm facing three Japanese wrestlers back-to-back?"

"Yeah. You don't like it?"

"No, it's just… if I go through three Japanese wrestlers in a row and lose, both Japan and Korea are going to tear me apart."

"Korea? Barely anyone watches over there. Not even ten percent of the Japanese audience. And you're winning the first two matches. On the Japanese side, Miyu winning is framed as her getting revenge for her friends, so it'll be fine."

Japan's weight in the pro wrestling world was enormous. Most American wrestlers went over to Japan to train before coming back. Jayco and Mick Foley, both of whom I respected, had done their "study abroad" in Japan. Even Corey Rhodes — the face of WWO — had gone through Japan. You could almost call it second only to the United States.

And Korea? Forget Europe or South America — it was a wrestling backwater on the same level as Southeast Asia. The one thing you could say Korea had over Southeast Asia was that they sent local commentary crews to the big PLEs.

"So what do you want to do? Don't like it? Want to change it?"

I'd never expected to win against Miyu Sky in the first place. The sticking point was facing three Japanese wrestlers in a row — but since it wasn't three straight losses, and Korea barely registered on the map, it was doable.

"No. It's fine. I'll do it."

"Good call. You and Miyu are going to put on a classic."

"I think so too."

"Work on your aerial stuff for a while. Your dropkick's gotten a lot better, but it still needs to be more precise."

"Yes, ma'am. Got it."

"Asuna and Sayuri are coming in early tomorrow morning. Once they're here, let's talk through the scenario."

"Yes. I'll be ready."

I said goodbye to Jane and walked out, still feeling strangely off. Even though I'd chosen the opponent myself, something about it suddenly didn't sit right.

Sayuri and Asuna weren't the same two wrestlers from two or three years ago. They were pure jobbers now. Sayuri had never been a particularly standout talent to begin with. And Asuna — she'd been genuinely elite, a brand-eater in her prime — but she was nearly fifty. She was looking at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠retirement. So those two wins didn't mean much.

It would've been cleaner if I'd just gone straight to Miyu Sky…

To Japanese fans, a wrestler who steamrolls their countrymen back-to-back would look like a full-blown heel — and American fans might see it the same way. Using a Scenario Revision Right over this, though, would be a massive overreaction.

Sigh. I was going to have to think carefully about how to work these matches. Miyu's Japanese fans were a lost cause — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but the American crowd? I'd have to find a way to bring them along somehow.