17. Wrestle Kingdom
17. Wrestle Kingdom
When the weekend arrived, Bon Voyage Studio's filming crew—now a full-fledged Hero Party, you could call them—gathered in front of the Portal early in the morning.
"Nikolai, Ellie, Celestia. Okay. Everyone's here."
"Allen."
"What, I got it wrong again?"
"It's Ailey."
"Ailey. Got it. Ailey."
Allen ruffled her purple hair and stood before the Portal.
"Alright, anyone who doesn't know how to use a Portal, raise your hand!"
Nikolai and Celestia raised their hands.
"Good. Then I'll explain how Portals work. Before that, a lot of people get scared in advance, wondering if their body will get severed if the Portal closes while they're crossing, or if they'll get lost between spaces—but that kind of thing can never happen. The Magic Tower said something about... spatial internals, was it?"
"It's spatial continuity, Allen."
"Right. Spatial continuity. So the most important thing once you're inside a Portal is not to panic. Over ninety percent of Portal accidents are caused by people freaking out and causing a commotion.
"Now I'll explain properly. When you enter a Portal, your destination won't appear right away. The shorter the travel time to your destination, the worse the jump-sickness gets. If the destination appears the moment you enter, you'll vomit at minimum, and in severe cases you could pass out."
Even Allen, who prided himself on his sturdy body, found instant-jump Portals and teleportation sickness hard to endure.
"So unless it's for military operations, civilian Portals basically have a built-in delay. The delay time depends on the distance. See the number above the Portal here? That's how long it'll take."
Above it, the number 3 was written.
"Once we enter, it'll take about three minutes. Inside, we'll see scenery passing by really, really fast. You explain the principle."
"Inside a Portal, air-mediated senses such as hearing and smell disappeared. Touch vanished as well because tactile nerves transmitted electrical signals. Vision, however, was different. For some reason it remained. My guess is that unlike air or electricity, light maintains a constant speed even during a spatial leap. Keeping your eyes open under those conditions makes motion sickness very likely."
"That's why we wear these special blindfolds. Light still reaches your eyes even when they're closed, so only a blindfold imbued with darkness makes the trip tolerable. Remember what I said: more than ninety percent of Portal accidents are caused by panic. Don't panic because you can't see. Don't thrash around. Don't do anything stupid just because you can't feel anything. Stay calm~ for three minutes and we'll arrive. Seriously, don't fool around. You'll hurt the person beside you."
After hearing Allen's explanation, the two put on their blindfolds and crossed through the Portal.
Just as Allen had said, inside they felt nothing.
No noise, no sensation, no smell.
They truly felt nothing.
Fear surged up from deep in their guts for an instant, but they waited quietly, telling themselves they could endure less than three minutes.
And around the time they had counted to about 162 in their heads, noise suddenly emerged, and an unfamiliar smell, and a wind brushing against their skin.
"You've arrived."
The safety officer waiting on the other side removed Nikolai's blindfold.
He thanked the officer and stepped forward.
Throb.
At that moment, a strange pain shot through his shin.
Allen did not miss that subtle difference.
"Hey. Roll up your trouser leg."
When he pulled up the fabric, sure enough, there was a bruise.
Allen looked at the person behind Nikolai.
"I told you to stay still."
Celestia averted her eyes.
"Boss. It's fine. It's just a bruise, come on."
It wasn't even a fracture; for Nikolai, this much was bearable.
"Fine. Since you say so, I'll forgive it."
"Whew."
"But my right hand says no."
Allen's Iron Claw of Justice thoroughly punished the pointy-ears.
*
The Hero Party arrived at the Sanctuary located right next to the imperial capital.
For convenience, this place was called the "Sanctuary of Parma."
The Sanctuary of Parma was the largest among Sanctuaries all over the world.
Partly because the Parma Empire was a hegemonic power, partly because the Empire poured capital into it, and partly because they had granted territory to a church that originally had no land and helped them establish a theocratic state.
For a complex combination of reasons, the Sanctuary of Parma was the largest and most magnificent in the entire world.
The city of art that unfolded as they stepped out of the Portal station left Nikolai, who had only ever lived in small towns, in awe.
He was a modern person.
So he had been confident he wouldn't be impressed by just any medieval splendor.
But that was his arrogance.
When medieval culture met modern technological abundance, people called the result romantic spirit.
And that city, where everyone's romantic ideals had been realized, was more than enough to make a modern person's heart race.
Hetairo Academy was a fairly splendid city in its own right, but it was nothing compared to this Sanctuary.
Grabbing Nikolai, who kept trying to wander off somewhere, Allen headed for their destination.
"That's Dino Studio! They train apprentice Heroes in there, right?"
"That's right. It's dangerous, so get out of the road."
"Gasp. The White Jade Orchestra...!! In the city, seats would cost dozens of silver, and they're just performing on the street for free?"
"They perform there often to inspire the younger generation. Hey. Hey! Where are you going?"
"Hrrrk..!!! Round Table Studio...!!!"
"Hey. HEY!!! Where are you going!!! That's a military district!!!"
Only after dislocating Nikolai's jaw when he tried to bolt at the end was Allen able to lead the party to their destination.
He hadn't realized it when he recruited him, but looking at him now, Nikolai seemed to have quite the otaku streak himself.
Discovering this side of a new comrade was certainly something, but Allen accepted it as one more way of growing closer.
Nikolai, who had been unable to see ahead as he was slung over a shoulder like a piece of luggage and busy clicking his dangling jaw back into place, only learned their destination when Allen set him down upon arrival.
"Boss. Are we planning to sign a contract with a sandwich-specialty inn?"
"Don't pretend you don't see it. The other side is our destination."
"Oh, come on. No way. Students like us, with that place?"
In the direction Nikolai pointed stood a massive stadium with a sign that read "Wrestle Kingdom."
But Allen ignored Nikolai and strode forward.
He headed straight for the colosseum.
"What are you doing? Hurry up."
"Hrrrrrk...!! Gahk..."
"Hey, breathe. Breathe."
The closer they got to the building, the more Nikolai realized that Allen's words had not been a lie.
In proportion, his breathing grew more ragged.
Celestia watched that Nikolai with cold, withering eyes.
"Just what is that thing that he's—"
"Ah! You don't know Wrestle Kingdom! I suppose elves wouldn't. It's a global fusion of sports and entertainment that every race except elves goes wild for!"
"..."
"It was precisely five years ago! A legendary studio that appeared like a comet, presented the world with a new form of amusement called professional wrestling, and conquered the entertainment industry in mere months!
"They're partnered with the Body-Strengthening Magic Tower, and it's also famous as a sports program that the tower broadcasts exclusively. Average viewership is five million! Depending on the event, it reaches tens of millions—a colossal sports industry!"
"I know what it is. It's combat in a ring using only physical enhancement, without magic or weapons. I just don't understand why people obsess over it when it's no different from a movie or a no-rules fight."
"Blasphemy!!!"
Nikolai's face contorted into a murderous grimace.
"Calling professional wrestling and movies the same thing! Such an insult is intoler— Gyagyak!!!"
Nikolai's rampage was swiftly suppressed.
Allen's fluid submission hold had twisted Nikolai's arm behind his back.
"Hey. Calm down. It's not something to get that angry about. There can be people who don't know. Still, you might enjoy it more if you understand before going in—mind if I explain?"
"Fine. Just stop screaming like the man trapped in your grip. You're making my head ring."
"All right. You said professional wrestling resembled film, and in many ways it did. The matches were partly scripted, and the wrestlers fought with reckless intensity because they trusted in Sanctuary resurrection. What separated it from film was that style mattered above all else."
In a world where Sanctuaries and mana existed, professional wrestling was vastly different from what it had been in Allen's past life.
Techniques that could cause injury or dangerous moves were permitted, and depending on race, clawing and striking techniques were also allowed.
One might ask, didn't that simply make it a no-rules brawl? Professional wrestling, however, had one rule of its own.
Namely, it had to be cool.
Practicality didn't matter; the technique itself had to be cool first.
If it made the audience's adrenaline surge, anything was permitted—but conversely, if it was utterly bland, that was a foul.
"Since style is what matters most, the outcome of a match isn't that important. A wrestler's wins and losses are decided by the viewers' popularity. And that's not just symbolic. It's a substantive meaning too.
"The match card is decided by vote, and the losers' bracket resurrection is also decided by vote. If it wasn't meant for viewer participation in the first place, why run it live? They'd just record it and make a movie. Does it make a bit more sense now?"
"I understand. It's entertainment that turned who-would-win debates into a sport."
"Similar."
Despite Allen's explanation, Celestia's reaction was indifferent to the extreme.
To the elven race, barehanded combat was treated as a savage culture, so no matter how much he explained the romantic spirit of it, she simply couldn't understand.
Even so, this was an extension of work, and it was the profession of people who could potentially work at the same studio, so she seemed to be making an effort to understand.
'Well, at least she had some professional pride.'
Allen gave Celestia's attitude a passing mark.
If she'd let her elf pride get in the way and harm the teamwork, he'd been prepared to personally correct her, but that didn't seem necessary.
Leaving Nikolai, who'd been tapping away for a while now, Allen pulled the tickets from his pocket.
"I'll go talk with the officials, so you all watch the matches in the meantime."
The only person among them he could trust was Ailey, so he left the tickets with her.
Nikolai, who had been rubbing his arm, immediately spotted the tickets that had changed hands to Ailey.
"Isn't this the week the season starts?"
"Right?"
"And you got tickets for the season opener??"
"Yeah."
"Are you good at ticket booking too, Boss??"
"Well, so-so."
His runaway excitement only grew worse after he checked the tickets in Ailey's hand.
"And they're VIP seats, at that!"
"Just seats close to the ring."
"That's what VIP means! The Superstar Hollywalking Package! Watching the match closest to the action, getting to walk the wrestlers' entrance, and the complimentary gift—"
"Okay, okay. Calm down, I got it. Ailey, you keep a tight leash on him."
"Should I make some handcuffs?"
"If you need to."
Entrusting Nikolai to Ailey, Allen promptly strode off toward the officials' area.
Left behind, Ailey eyed the two delicate treasures now in her charge with an anxious gaze.
*
While the wide-eyed Nikolai rolled around on the wrestlers' entrance, clutching the complimentary t-shirt and wailing, Ailey and Celestia found their respective seats.
Then they opened the brochures they'd picked up at the entrance and looked over the wrestlers participating this season.
Neither had any interest in the matches themselves, but since they were VIP seats, they figured they might as well try to enjoy it.
However, as people who'd never had any connection to wrestling their whole lives, no matter how much they pored over the brochure, they had no way of knowing who was who.
In the end, Celestia tossed the brochure aside, deciding she'd just skim it and be done.
Nikolai, who'd finished his stadium tour and returned at some point, picked up the brochure and examined the match card.
"Storm Rat, Nick Cade, Red Brawler... Whoa. The lineup alone is stacked this season. It's going to be hard to decide when it's time to vote on the match card."
Even normally, tickets were hard to come by, but on the day the season began, the competition was beyond imagination.
That was because those who came to the stadium that day were given the right to vote on the season's match card.
The sheer possibility of getting to see the match-ups they wanted was reason enough for people to buy the expensive seats Wrestle Kingdom had priced at double the usual rate and come to the stadium.
"If you don't know how to vote, would you like me to do it for you?"
"Do as you please."
They handed over all of the voting crystals they'd received at the entrance to Nikolai.
One person getting three votes concentrated in his hands.
An advocate of democracy might have lamented the sight, but the rules governing the arena were thoroughly capitalistic.
Nikolai was a legitimate customer, and they were legitimate customers too, so the stadium wouldn't care if they pooled their votes with him.
It was simply a matter of returning the crystals after the matches were over.
After a short wait, the band situated in a corner of the stadium began to play.
Simultaneously, all the lights illuminating the stadium went out. A brief cheer rose from the crowd, and the band's music filled the arena.
Clutching their pounding hearts that beat along with the drum, the audience watched the stage with bated breath.
Then, with a spotlight illuminating the center of the stage, the emcee appeared as if by magic.
"Heeelloooo— EVERYYYYBODYYYYY!!!!!"
The gentleman in the fedora, distinguished by his impressive mustache, delivered his greeting with a slick roll of the tongue.
As cheers erupted, the emcee lifted his hat slightly to quiet the noise.
After a brief opening remark, the emcee declared the official start of the season.
"Now then! With the sound of your passionate cheers— Wrestle Kingdom Season 10 will— noooow— begin!!!"
*
The match card voting period arrived.
During the brief waiting time, the audience began to deliberate carefully, hoping to give their favorite wrestlers a chance to advance even a little further in the tournament.
When the voting began, first, the most popular wrestler from the previous season—usually the champion—was displayed on the screen.
Then the audience would vote for the slot, from 1 to 32, where that champion would go, and based on the majority decision, the champion was sent there.
Because the season ran one match each Saturday and Sunday for sixteen weeks, anyone visiting the stadium that day would see only one match.
Naturally, no one could stand to leave without seeing the champion's match, so as an unwritten rule, the champion usually took the number 1 slot.
Today's event was no different from any other season.
"The first wrestler adorning this Wrestle Kingdom match card is— none other than!
"The founder of this very Wrestle Kingdom! The holder of the longest championship title reign in history! A living legend who has lifted the Alcaydes Cup twice!
"What more is there to explain? Let's meet him right now!
"King— Lion!!"
The moment the lion beastkin with a magnificent mane appeared on the screen, the people entered number 1 without a single moment of hesitation.
The emcee pretended to be flustered, pulled out a handkerchief, and joked about the result, but the audience's choice was clear.
"Whether we vote or not, the result's the same, isn't it? Then I'll reveal the next wrestler."
The voting proceeded in the same manner from then on.
When the second most popular wrestler appeared on screen, people would choose a number for that person from 2 to 32.
People liked to save the best for last, so the second-most-popular wrestler was usually voted into the farthest slot, number 32, ensuring they'd meet the champion in the final.
As if the emcee knew this as well, he cracked jokes with the audience, beaming as he asked, "Is there even a reason to vote anyway?"
But just then, an event coordinator suddenly walked onto the stage, whispered something into the emcee's ear, and handed him a new script. The emcee's beaming face hardened.
"What? From Purgatory?"
Unlike before, he seemed genuinely flustered, not acting, as he wiped sweat with his handkerchief and let his hat slip.
Then, with a hand that trembled exaggeratedly, he began reading the new script.
"Everyone. I'm sorry. There will be a brief emergency announcement."
As if on cue, the band suddenly switched from their lively tune to a low, tense musical score.
Ominous smoke began to creep onto the stage.
"The second wrestler, Storm Rat... has forfeited."
Boom!
Right after the crash of a drum that conjured images of lightning, the emcee continued.
"And the one who has claimed that spot is... Ahh, I can't read this! I'm getting out of here!"
The emcee fled into the fog.
But his escape didn't last long.
A black shape pounced on the fleeing emcee and dragged him away into the fog.
CRUNCH!
The sound of something breaking was transmitted through the microphone.
People stared into the fog with a sense of horror.
A short while later, the sound of a whistle drifted out from within the fog.
People looked toward the direction of the whistle.
But there was no one there, only the dispersing fog, as if to say someone had once been present.
All that remained were footprints, searing hot, and bloodstains left in a vivid red.
Tap, tap
While everyone's gaze was fixed on the footprints, a black silhouette that pushed through the fog tapped the microphone left standing alone on the stage.
Only when the dimmed lights shone upon him was the figure's face revealed.
Human from the neck down, but a wolf above.
His body was massive, his face a mess of scars, and the jet-black prosthetic devices on his left arm and left leg seemed to absorb the light.
Beneath the red scar slashed across his left eye, his crimson glare flashed as this being burned with hatred.
"Judging by the state of the emcee... I can only imagine how pathetic Wrestle Kingdom has become in my absence."
As his growling voice reverberated through the microphone and filled the stadium, tension seized the audience seats all at once.
The wolf, whistling as he circled the stage for a moment in that silence, brought his mouth back to the microphone.
"Tonight. A big, evil wolf joins the hunt."
Awoooooo-!
In tune with his howl, a deafening roar packed the stadium.