Ascension 113: Batti Otaku vs Xander Lebelle vs Kagura Joheki

[Lee]

Kagura Joheki makes her long awaited in ring return whilst Batti Otaku looks for her first win in WZCW. Xander LeBelle will also have a point to prove. How will win in what is (probably) WZCW's first ever match with a 2 to 1 female ration?

Deadline is Monday, December 5th, 11:59PM CST. Extensions available upon request.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

Deadline has been extended by 24 hours.

 

[Spidey Revivey]

Batti's Gas Station Christmas​

Batti: "I...oh."

Referee Katie Prince helped the newbie up from the canvas. Still reeling from the quick loss, Batti Otaku bit her lip and graciously hugged the official. The North Carolinans gave the learning rookie an appreciative applause, and Otaku answered them with a shy wave as she left the ring. She grabbed a beach ball from her entrance and bounced it into the closest row. Batti Otaku stood on the ramp one last time and smiled. It was the perfect view of the WZCW Universe.

Minutes later, a red 1964 Pontiac GTO pulled up in the parking lot of the Time Warner Cable Arena. It came to a screeching halt at the front doors and the famous driver cranked up the radio.

Spoiler

[YOUTUBE]2EaflX0MWRo[/YOUTUBE]​

Saxton: ♬ "I'll be there, with a love that will shelter youuuu

I'll be there, with a love that will see you throuuuugh!!! ♬

Yeah. That's my shit. That's my shit right there."

Saxton: "Hey! White people! This right here is MY shit!"​

As soon as he yelled it aloud, he saw Batti Otaku at the entrance gate. She stood there with her arms folded and her feet in a pidgeon-toed position. Not paying him any mind until he shouted out his love for Motown music, she stared off into the distance. His voice made her jump, and Batti made a beeline for the GTO.

Saxton: "Hey baby girl. You do alright out there?"

Batti: "..." :|

Saxton: "I see. Well hop in and we'll talk all 'bout it, aight?"

The usually cheery superstar climbed in the passenger seat and buckled up. Action Saxton nodded quietly and put the car in Drive. They passed the Time Warner Cable Arena and hit the interstate when the veteran repeated his question.

Saxton: "You okay? Was it that bad?"

Batti's eyes turned into saucers.

Batti: "I lost. It...it was...incredible. Fantastic. The greatest moment of my life, Saxton-chan!"

Her demeanor flipped like a switch. She began to wiggle around in her seat and gave a display of intricate hand motions.

Batti: "Like Titus was over there on one side, follow me? And he kicked me in my belly and planted the DDT...pinfall-NOPE! I kick out like a woman possessed and he Irish Whips me and I FUGGIN NAIL HIS HALL OF FAMER BUTT WITH A SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I COULD DO AND he asks for a hug. So I'm at the other side like 'Aww I guess he's being a good sport about'- NOPE AGAIN the fugger tricks me but I trick him back with a hug of my own Belly To Mutha Fuggin' Belly you shady bakka bitch and then I PIN THE CHAMPION for a two count."

She pauses for a moment to catch her breath.

Batti: "Titus kicks out of my rookie pin so I throw THESE HANDS at him and he backs away like I got the beans, greens, tomatoes, potatoes...you name it! I says to myself 'Batti. He's not coming to you. You gotta go to him, girl.' So I climb the top rope like I've been rasslin' for years and I GLOMP! GLOMP! GLOMP! him so hard his Oscars cried. Crowd goes wild..."

The perky blonde imitates the audience by making quiet "AHHHH" sounds. It comes off more like the noise a blow-dryer makes.

Batti: "So I'm right there looking at these fans never knowing this feeling and then I'm all about giving them the ol' razzle dazzle so I do that Dabbing Elbow Drop ya showed me.."

Saxton: "That was a joke, really-"

Batti: "And I get a second pinfall. A SECOND PINFALL. On a Hall of Famer. In my debut match. Can you imagine? Then the con artist rolls me up for the final pin and that was that."

Saxton: "So ya handled yourself against an icon of the business. And had fun, huh?"

Batti: "Mmhm. I can't wait for my second match. A Triple Threat against Xander LeBelle and that bakka bitch that once stole Rammikun's voice. Kagura." ^_^

Action Saxton's mouth was agape.

Saxton: "Your second match...is a triple threat against seasoned superstars...not any rookie like yourself or anything. But people that have been real contenders for championships...and one was Ramparte's old rival..."

Batti: "It'll be a blast!!! Anyways what's up with this music? This ain't a Christmas song. Give me some Nat King Cole or something, dude."

The Manliest Man In Wrestling looked offended with the change of subject.

Saxton: "Don't you diss The Four Tops in my presence littlun. And I'm not in the Christmas mood."

Otaku gave him puppy dog eyes and persisted in changing the radio station. He sighed. "Reach Out" changed to "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" by The Jackson 5.

When he turned the dial, a bump was heard in the trunk. Batti looked at Saxton curiously. He kept his eyes on the road as if he didn't hear a thing.

Batti: "Umm...Saxophone?"

Saxton grunted.

Batti: "What the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks was that?" :/

Action Saxton lowered the volume down and cleared his throat.

Saxton: "It's uhh...It's nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over."

The rookie frowned, expecting an answer.

Saxton: "There may be a body back there. Somebody I gotta deal with."

Batti: "WHAT?!"​

Saxton: "Yeah. Some jive ass singer I got beef with."

Batti: "Who???"

Saxton: "Yo generation don't know him. Michael Bolton."

"..."​

Saxton: "You wouldn't understand, child. This overrated cracka had it comin' for a loooooong time. He ain't slick. Stealing that whiney ass One Hit Wonder "When A Man Loves A Woman". You know who sang that originally, right?"

Batti: "Nu..."

Saxton: "Percy Sledge. A black man. None of y'all know that these days though. Thanks to this white washing corporate robot muthafucka tied up in the back. But Action Saxton gonna take care of this pronto."

Batti: "You have an archnemesis? Woah. Eh...I don't think kidnapping is the right thing to do, sensei. Doesn't feel right this time of year, ya know?"

Action Saxton drove silently. He hit a bump and they heard the body roll around.

Saxton: "You're a good kid. But I'm gonna kill this honky and we ain't havin' this convo again."

Batti: "Haven't we had enough celebrity deaths this year? Like I can't even name them off on my fingers. Prince, David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Leonard Cohen, Glenn Frey, Gene Wilder, Harper Lee, Frank Sinatra Jr, Merle Haggard, Chyna, Muhammad Ali, Kimbo Slice, Anton Yelchin, Ralph Stanley, Miss Cleo, Mr. Fuji, Arnold Palmer..."

Saxton: "Alright, alright damn. Now I'm sad. I'll pull over and let the irrelevant crooner free. But only because it's the holiday season. 2017 Michael Bolton won't be so lucky."

They pull over at a gas station and get out of the GTO. The karate expert popped the trunk and looked inside. Michael Bolton wasn't there. Instead, there was a department store mannequin that looked like Michael Bolton. He sighed.

Saxton: "Why am I not surprised? Shifty Grammy Award winning Casper turkey."

Batti Otaku shook her head at her mentor's humorous but troubling racism.

Saxton: "I gots an idea. Pull that thing out and sit it on the side of the road. I'm gonna go get me a Pepsi and some Funyuns. You want anything?"

She shook her head as he went inside the gas station. Batti Otaku grabbed the dummy and did as she was told. But she couldn't help but think of the upcoming match she wasn't prepared for. With her sensei getting some foodstuffs, she started circling the mannequin, eyeing her prey.

Otaku gave a polite bow as was custom in fighting other Japanese opponents.

Batti: "Konnichiwa, Kagura-sama. It will be a great honor kicking the back of your neck repeatedly you voice stealing bakka bitch! Take that!" >.<

She let her Kawaii Kick fly...and missed! She did a roll on the concrete, locking eyes with her adversary.

Batti: "Ha, I meant to do that, ya hussy! You don't deserve a quick death in battle. Your gods will weep cherry blossoms as they see my special technique- The Sixth Dance Of Beatrice Otaku....Sugoi Quest For Kokoro!!!"

The weeaboo does a second Kawaii Kick, but with added flair. In her mind, her boot was on fire as it connected with "Kagura's" head. The dummy rolled into the highway. Frowning, Batti turned to look and see if Saxton made it back. He was arguing with the cashier about a Scratch-Off Lottery Ticket. She bit her lip and ran into the road.

Batti: "Oh...what's this? A new challenger? A French aristocratic thief diplomat-chan? I oughta snag your old mask and kick your neck as Le Madame Masque... I wish The Beard was here to see his baguette loving friend get GLOMPED by the Last Mutha Fuggin' Unicorn breh. Tu vas mourir!!!"

Kamikazi-style, the crazed rookie leapt from the sidewalk and landed ass-first onto the fake Michael Bolton's chest. The pressure caused the head to come off!

Batti: "Oh shit."

Before she could even think, a convertible approached. Batti Otaku scrambled to her feet. That's when she noticed that the dummy was filled with thousands of dollars. Most of it spilled into the road.

Batti: "OH SHIT!" :O

The car came to a screeching stop yards away from the rookie. Action Saxton heard the commotion and sprinted out of the gas station. Funyuns, Pepsi, and Scratch-off in hand, he surveyed the scene. There were dollar bills scattered everywhere. The convertible's doors opened, and out from the driver's seat stood Theron Daggershield.

Saxton: "No way..."

Theron: "This iron steed is a faithful one...Greetings, fellow gladiators!"

Batti's eyes were as round as dinner plates.

Batti: "SHUT. UP. It's the hero of World Gladiatorial Combat Federation! The Warblade. You're just like the coolest thing in gladiatorial combat right now. Former WGCF Champion. Theron Mutha Fuggin' Daggershield!"

Before Theron could interject, Batti glomped him. She sniffed his hair and whispered in his ear.

Batti: "...I keep a foam Warblade under my pillow at night."

Theron: "That's...nice."

Not to be outdone, another superstar appeared. From the passenger side stepped out the current WZCW Heavyweight Champion. Mikey Stormrage's appearance was disheveled, and alcohol was on his breath. Still he tried to look presentable.

Stormrage: "Eh, hey guys. Fancy seeing you here, Action Saxton."

Saxton: "Likewise homie. Been a long time."

The two traded pleasantries. Batti Otaku let go of Theron and eyed Mikey Stormrage. She turned pale as a ghost.

Batti: "Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmyfuggingod." X.X

The fangirl fainted.

Stormrage: "The hell's the matter with her?"

Saxton: "I don't think specialists know."

Theron: "The Bat lives up to her reputation it seems. Anyways, it seems like she dropped a few green rupees..."

They all stare at the money around the Michael Bolton dummy. An awkward silence falls on everyone but Theron Daggershield.

Theron: "Well umm I don't know what you fellow gladiators plan to do with these rupees, but Michelangelo Tempest and I were to make an appearance at a children's orphanage for WGCF. That money would be such a wonderful donation, especially with Winter Solstice approaching."

Stormrage: "I guess it would make their Christmas a little bit brighter. We're heroes in their eyes after all. Some of us may need to see those smiling faces, too...God knows I do."

It was in that moment that The Manliest Man pulled out a gun and some nunchucks.

Saxton: "Back off my bills, bitches!"​

Theron: "Woah! This is way out of line, Monk Of Brass Tuba! Put your weapon aside or I'm drawing out my Warblade."

Saxton: "Hell naw. I'm finna get paid. I'll give them kids half. I need the other half to finance my mission to kill Michael Bolton."

Stormrage: "Wait, what the-"

Saxton: "Y'all wouldn't understand. He killed music!"

Batti Otaku woke up and jumped to her feet. She gawked at the gun in her friend's hand.

Batti: "Sensei..."

Action Saxton's face softened.

Saxton: "B-b-but Michael Bolton..."

Batti: "You have to be better than Michael Bolton. So what if he's a little overrated? Yeah, he made millions on another guy's song. But you know what I bet he doesn't have? The adoration of the WZCW Universe. Everyone loves you, Saxton. Don't let them think little of you because you have to kill some singer barely anybody remembers."

He lowered his pistol and looked down at the dummy.

Saxton: "But his face..."

Spidey: "Look at that face. That's a very punchable fucking face."​

Batti: "You're not Michael Bolton."

She ran to her mentor and hugged him. He dropped the nunchucks and holstered his gun. In tears, Batti repeated herself.

Batti: "You're not Michael Bolton..." :'(

Stormrage: "What the fuck is going on..?"

Theron: "The Bat and The Monk Of Brass Tuba are having a Winter Solstice moment. Drink your ale."

Saxton: "Lord have mercy. Saboteur woulda handed me a katana and we would've ended Bolton. You're no Saboteur, hun, but you've got your own little flair about ya. I respect that."

Batti: "Think it's enough to beat a thief with diplomatic immunity and a Japanese sorceress?"

He laughed a hearty laugh. Batti laughed too, but hers was a bit more nervous sounding.

Saxton: “Let's get this dummy money to them children. Ya know, this kinda reminds me of the time I saved an entire orphanage from an incoming train. It was a dark and stormy night...”

They gathered the cash and Saxton followed Theron to the orphanage. Inside Theron's iron steed, Mikey was trying to puzzle everything together.

Stormrage: "So nobody found it weird that we stood in the middle of the street with lots of money laying everywhere and no other cars passed us? You don't find it odd Saxton pulled a gun out on us and he's hunting Michael Bolton? Nothing about that Batti chick being out there with a mannequin in the first place, or why Action Saxton is even with a newbie? Or how about a voice out of nowhere that I guess was FUCKING God randomly saying something about Bolton having a punchable face? Am I just drunk or something?"

Theron: "It has been a crazy year, Michelangelo. Let the Winter Solstice be a bit batty too."

________________________________________​

Ramparte couldn't take his eyes away from the television screen. The local news shared a small yet heartwarming story about a group of WZCW wrestlers coming in to an orphanage and donating thousands of dollars that was found inside a department store mannequin. On screen was the WZCW World Champ, who had seen better days, icon Theron Daggershield, ring veteran Action Saxton...

and his girlfriend Batti Otaku.

Ramparte: "She...she said she was a pyrotechnician. What is she doing there???"

Batti was reading "Twas The Night Before Christmas" to a group of nine year olds. She was so animated in what she was doing that the children sat still, mesmerized by her every movement.

He turned off the TV and sat alone in utter confusion.

 

[Bernkastel]

It’s been four months since I had last appeared in WZCW. Even though Ramparte had bested me that night at Unscripted, I had won the war. I had accomplished my goal. His voice was mine. However, I did not escape that match unharmed. Plagued by a myriad of unforeseen injuries, I was forced to step away from active competition. But by no I was prepared to step back into the ring.

I took a look at myself in front of my mirror as I began to dress myself. I still had the same soft features, and pale white skin. My black hair was tied back in a ponytail and my brown eyes glowed in the reflection of the light. I put on my dark colored ring gear from the top down. And as I did I noticed a change. On any other day I would be thrilled to get back in the ring. I was still on a mission after all. I hadn’t forgotten my desire to make myself into the perfect warrior. The ultimate fighter. That was my desire. Ramparte had just been an obstacle. So knowing this, why did I feel so hollow?

“Ever since Unscripted I have started to feel strange. At first it started with a constant tingling inside of my body. Like I had developed an itch that I could not scratch. Then I started to get these bouts of dry mouth that almost felt like strep throat. My throat would close and I began to feel shortness of breath. I had asthma as a child, but I hadn’t had a serious bout in years. It was embarrassing, having to equip myself with an inhaler.”

I took the device from my beside table and took a puff. I held the medicine in my mouth for several seconds as I felt my airwaves starting to open.

“The dryness in my throat has never gone away. Try as might and despite any medication that I take. I soon found that talking caused me pain. Even now I can feel a tingling sensation on my vocal chords.”

I started to cough. I cleared my head and finished dressing myself.

“So far this problem has gone undiagnosed. I’m not really sure what to make of it, really. Half the time I find myself talking, often to nobody, like that would reward me some relief. In a strange way it does. If I remain quiet for too long, then I find that my voice cracks and I have a hard time forming sentences at all. So, that’s quite the predicament. I’ll have a hard time regardless if I talk or not.”

My book was on the bed. The last several months that book had come to define my character as I was never seen without it. Now that others knew the power that it held, they were sure to be wary about crossing me. There was nothing that I couldn’t accomplish now. All I needed was the desire and the motivation. I had the conviction. My opponent this round, Batti Otaku, should have understood that very well.

“Wasn’t it your Rammi-kun that I dispatched my dear?”

I threw back my head in laughter before coughing up another fit. I cleared my head and grabbed the book. I held it in front of me.

“The thought had crossed my mind once that the ritual I had used on Ramparte would have unforeseen consequences, but I never really reflected on it. There’s still much about this book that I do not understand. Ever since I gained the ability to use the rituals I became overwhelmed with emotions that I hadn’t really felt before: rage, arrogance, and a newfound sense of self confidence that felt so foreign. It’s like I woke up and I found myself the person that I had always wanted to become. All my insecurities just disappeared. I never questioned those feelings. Instead I embraced them. I’m beginning to wonder if that was really the right choice.”

But what choice did I have at the time? Even if I wanted to go back and undo everything I wasn’t sure that I could. Quite frankly I didn’t know how, so moving forward was my only option. I sighed and looked around my hotel room.

“Right. I can’t get caught up on all those feelings right now. I have to look forward to a new beginning…”

I sneered, as a new thought crossed my mind.

“… And now I have two fools that need to be taught a lesson in humility and respect.”

I grinned and opened the book to a blank page.

“Xander Lebell is a newcomer that I haven’t faced before. Was he in the company before I left, I can’t remember and it’s not important. I have seen one picture of the man; from first glance he looks conceited and arrogant as hell. Everyone, no matter how righteous they seem to act, secretly has an ego to stroke, and Xander wears his ego on his sleeve. Those types of people are weak minded and easy to manipulate. I’m not worried about him in slightest. Even if he tries to cheat, it won’t be enough to stop me.”

I slammed the book shut, and chuckled.

“What’s funny is that Batti became a wrestler in Ramparte’s place. I suppose Rammi-kun isn’t half the man that I pegged him to be. I figured little miss fangirl would have been knocked up by now, but I supposed good ol’ Rammi didn’t go for the crazy ones after all. Such a shame really, as I was a fan of that ship. I wonder if she wants revenge?”

I laughed gleefully, and again I found myself suppressing a coughing fit.

“Not like it matters. Ramparte’s voice is mine now and there’s nothing that she can do about that. However, I do need a punching bag to brush off some of my ring rust, and I think she’ll be the perfect opponent for a few of my famous dances.”

I couldn’t say that I had either of them well scouted, but in passing I still felt confident that I could win. No one on the roster had seen me in months. Sitting at home I often wondered if I was becoming some old relic of the past, and for some, a bad memory. Well I wasn’t going to settle for that. No, WZCW lacked the chaos that it needed. And I was its harbinger. I glanced around my room one final time before heading out.

“In the months that I have been away, I’ve only had one guest that ever bothered to come see me. I was surprised to see him too. I figured he’d want nothing to do with me anymore.”

On my desk was a vase of flowers. He had brought them when he had visited. Seeing him again after everything that I had said to him was like a gigantic light shown inside the gloom of surrounding and enclosing darkness that I had felt for so long. It made me feel so happy.

“Thank you, Derrick.”

I no longer felt hollow.

 

[Richard Blonoff]

---


"I refuse."

Xander LeBelle puffed on his cigar after his emphatic statement, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. The early-morning sunlight streaming from the large window on the back wall of Adonis Studios' front office glinted off of his circular glasses, obscuring his eyes. On his face was a prominent frown, accentuated as he tilted his chin upwards to stare down at the man in front of him.

At his desk, Andrew Adonis rubbed his temples.

"Look, kid," he said, "I did my best, but they kept telling me it was the only spot left. Can you believe that?"

Xander puffed angrily once more. "Preposterous," he spat. "The only spot left, as though The World's Greatest Mind is but a side-show act."

Adonis sighed, still massaging his skull. "Right? And in this match which we specifically told them you would not be competing in! I mean, I don't get where that's gonna get you apart from big with those who thought Barrett Stratton was a local goddamn hero, but hey. A fighter's gotta have his principles."

"And as you know, I am a principled man."

Adonis sighed, the pressure of the last few weeks evident on his usually smooth brow. He raised his head slightly and turned towards a half-empty bottle of whiskey on his desk. He set two glasses on the table with a dull clink and poured a measure of the alcohol into each one.

"Shot?" he asked his charge, who was still fuming.

LeBelle shotgunned his drink, but not before a long, agonized groan towards his situation.

"Who do they think that I am? And who do they think that they are? Do they really think that a proper gentleman, such as I, would throw a fist at a woman?"

Xander took off his glove.

"Why, I wouldn't even throw my glove at them!" he exclaimed. "This is very clearly an attempt at driving me off. What deplorable management. I have half a mind to walk in there and insist that they pull the plug on this match entirely, or I shall not give them a performance. Oda Nobunaga himself knew how to pick his battles! But these people wouldn't know a thing about the lives that the true geniuses of history had endured. They grew up seeing him as a legendary hero of their country, or some character in a Japanese comic book. I know a man like him much more than they ever will. He was a man, but much more than a man, he was a brutal man who killed everyone in his path, and could have truly ruled the world had he not died during a sneak attack on him and his men. But he had the last laugh, and thirteen days after his death, the men who killed him died by the hand of his heir."

The Class Act seethed with righteous fury, palpable even at this hour. Adonis gazed upon his client wordlessly as he let him rant, turning his words over in his mind. Every so often he would nod, and once LeBelle drew to a halt, Adonis took his own shot and drank it down. The alcohol burned on its way down, a welcome respite from the dull ache that had been plaguing him since the Lethal Lottery. It had not been an easy time, not for him, and not for the agency. There was so much paperwork to do and so many business partners to contact...

The head of Adonis Studios reached up and removed his sunglasses, setting them on the desk in front of him. He pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion and nodded again.

"I hear you, kid," he muttered. "Trust me, I do. They don't even know what they've got."

He raised his head and in a fluid motion turned his chair to stare out of the window, deep in thought. The back of his fine leather chair faced the World's Greatest Mind as gold-ringed fingers tapped the armrests. Finally, he spoke, his silvery voice emanating from the chair with a new edge.

"We really are the only two honest men in WZCW, aren't we?"

The agent stood up, still staring out of the window at the reflection of his client in the glass. The dappled sunlight bounced off of his gold suit, leaving his lower half in shadow. He pulled his smartphone from his pocket and tapped a few icons, scrolling through his text messages as he spoke.

"I'm shocked, I gotta tell you," he said. "I didn't think it'd be this bad 'til I was in the thick of it. You wanna talk about red tape, this place is wallpapered in the stuff. Look at this crap."

He turned to his left, just slightly, and showed to his client a text message stack from the afternoon of the Lethal Lottery. In it, a heated negotiation between WZCW management and Adonis had taken place.

"Banned from ringside! Can you believe it?" he snorted. "They didn't even have the decency to tell me until after I promised to accompany you, and if there's one thing I hate doing it's breakin' a promise."

"Contemptible," Xander said, glowering.

"Oh, but Hackjack Daggershield's little buddy got to strut her stuff in one of the biggest matches of the year, right?"

Adonis laughed, a short, humorless bark.

"Buddy, it's a travesty," he said. "Just because we play hardball and others like to do the ol' suck-up deal, we get the short end. It's like they don't like a businessman doing business. Can you believe that?"

Adonis flipped to a photo of a whiteboard from the week before. On it was the order of the matches for that week's Meltdown.

"They didn't even get my name right on the card last week, guy! Adrian? The only Adrian I know's last season ended in 2009. It might be a jungle out there, but I ain't that meticulous."

His handsome face twisted into a grimace. LeBelle puffed on his cigar once more as his agent turned to face him. His eyes were piercing and his voice trembled with emotion as he spoke.

"It's sickening, guy," he said. You look down the list of people you've faced, people you've interacted with, and you find nothin' but a bunch of crooks doin' their best to pretend they're above the table. Above you. Our first day, you get walloped by Ty and he gets welcomed with open arms at the Roulette. Nice of everyone to conveniently forget that his sneak attack was what lead Justin Cooper to get that expunged pinfall over you."

LeBelle sneered. "Ah, yes, everyone's beloved hero. Justin Cooper. A liar, a braggart, and a fool."

"Say it straight, buddy," Adonis said. "He's a crook. Tries to pretend not to be in bed with Blades but more than happy to reap the rewards and head to Kingdom Come. And we've already covered those little games our delusional Daggershield is playing. Constantine? Hah. You can't trust a politician, and his antics at the Lottery were proof of that. And then you have Eve Taylor. Tell me, why does she get to come out and cry about how much she lost and how much she failed, only to show up the next week booked for a match?"

Adonis poured himself another shot as LeBelle looked on, nodding. The agent tipped it back and slammed the glass on the desk.

"At least when you walked away three years ago you didn't make some kinda production about it!" he exclaimed. "You didn't play the damn sympathy card! You didn't try an' make people feel bad you lost! Taylor's just trying to make everyone who beat her feel guilty, and that's damn disgusting, buddy."

"I would call it despicable, Andrew," LeBelle responded, venom oozing between every word. "I, who reinvented myself, I who have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am far more now than I ever was! I refused to walk away following this year's Lethal Lottery, and yet she gets a free pass to vent her frustrations to an adoring public. Hypocrisy knows many forms, my friend."

"You're too right, guy," Adonis agreed, "and in my eyes, this place is full of liars, hypocrites, crooks, charlatans...and us."

LeBelle tapped his cigar on the rim of the golden ashtray on Adonis's desk and the two men took their seats as emotions ebbed. The World's Greatest Mind leaned forward, his voice lowering.

"If one were to connect the dots," he said, "one would think a conspiracy against us. But then, we cannot all be Garth Black. Nothing like a conspiracy that somehow leads one to a world championship."

"That's a conspiracy I wish we were in the thick of," Adonis replied. The two gentlemen shared a hearty, if bitter, laugh, and Adonis fished inside his pocket again and withdrew a glittering lighter engraved with the Adonis Studios logo. "You got another cigar?"

"Certainly."

The class act pulled out an exquisite Cuban cigar and handed it over to his agent, who accepted it graciously. He lit up and puffed a ring of smoke into the air, his eyes closing in thought.

"Guy, we've known each other for how long now?"

"Many moons," came the curt reply.

"And have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Not once."

A smoke-filled moment passed between the two. As the pocketwatch LeBelle carried on his person at all times ticked away, the wrinkles on Adonis's face melted away. Slowly, the wicked grin returned to his face as his eyes drifted back open.

"Tell me, kid," he said, "we spend a lot of time in the gym, don't we? And I never miss a day."

A similar grin began to play on the face of the World's Greatest Mind, as though he had already processed the thought.

"Andrew, do you dare suggest..."

"That's right, kid. Our agreement with made with old Banksy during the Roulette," Adonis replied. He tapped his cigar on the ashtray and reached for his sunglasses. "I was a pretty astonishing mixed martial artist, you know."

The agent put his gold aviators back on and straightened up in his chair. His familiar swagger was back with aplomb as he laid his cigar down completely and grabbed his phone.

"You know, this Kagura kid, she has a nice vicious streak," he said, scrolling through his contacts. "Maybe in another time I could have reached out to her. And this Otaku...boy, she's a wild one. You gotta respect someone with the stones to do something as stupid as what she's doing. These two, they're unconventional, they're unpredictable. So maybe we gotta be just like that."

LeBelle nodded. "Of course," he replied, "it would hardly be unpredictable should they have bothered to read the contract you procured for me."

Adonis shrugged, chuckling to himself. "Hey, I'm not sayin' this part is foolproof, buddy. But let's be frank - who other than the smart ones bother reading the fine print?"

Xander LeBelle laughed, a wicked burst of merriment.

"Guy, all I'm sayin' is that it takes a lot of courage to live in a fantasy world, and even more courage to break that fantasy in half. I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talkin' about. I almost feel sorry for them. For all their strengths, they still put their faith in something that just isn't concrete, and when you're in this den of vipers called WZCW, all you can do is..."

He tapped his smartphone and on the screen a Sent notification appeared.

"...Trust me."

He held his phone out to LeBelle, whose eyes widened in glee as he saw the new conversation between his agent and Mr. Banks.

"Truly remarkable, Andrew," LeBelle replied, all indignation fading from his tone. "Truly remarkable. You certainly know how to help a man achieve all he wants in life."

Adonis grinned like a pirahna to a cow, his pearly-whites perfect, as usual.

"You deserve a break, guy," he said. "So you can just sit back and let Nobunaga's heir take care of business."

He stood up and LeBelle followed suit. The two of them shook hands, their concealed eyes betraying nothing, before the French diplomat grabbed his cane and marched out of the office. As the door swung shut behind him, Adonis turned to a familiar framed photo on the wall of himself in a singlet, holding a gold medal. He nodded, and then picked his phone back up again and dialed a number.

"Ortega!" he said to the man on the other line. "Big Vic! Tell me, you got any punching bags free at that gym of yours?"