The alley was alive with whispers of rebellion. Duc Huy Nguyen leaned against the crumbling brick wall, his cigarette casting a faint orange glow in the oppressive darkness of Graffiti Alley. Midnight had arrived, the Tokyo streets were damp from recent rain, and the air hung heavy with the metallic tang of the city. Neon lights flickered in the distance, their glow barely reaching the shadows of this forgotten corner of Tokyo. Duc inhaled deeply, exhaling a thin stream of smoke that curled and twisted like a phantom before dissolving into the void.
His thoughts were a storm. The last few days had been a whirlwind of anger, desperation, and hope. Tanaka had discarded them all like garbage, his words cutting deeper than any wound in the ring. Duc had spent hours retracing the paths he’d walked, the conversations he’d had, and the seeds of rebellion he’d sown. Now, he waited. The quiet hum of anticipation was deafening. Would they come? Would they believe in his cause enough to risk it all? Or was he destined to stand alone, a lone wolf barking at an indifferent moon?
A scuffling noise broke the silence, faint but distinct. Duc’s hand instinctively went to his pocket, fingers brushing the cold steel of a switchblade. The sound grew louder—deliberate and steady footsteps approaching from the shadows. From the darkness, Riko Matsumoto emerged, her sharp, streetwise presence cutting through the alley like a razor. She wore a leather jacket over a plain tank top, her jeans ripped and worn. Her eyes glinted with defiance as she pulled a lollipop from her mouth, pointing it at Duc like a weapon.
Riko: “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Nguyen. Relax—it’s just me.
Duc chuckled, letting the tension ease from his shoulders.
Duc: Right on time, Matsumoto. You don’t strike me as the punctual type.
Riko: (grinning) When there’s a chance to screw Tanaka over, you bet your ass I’ll be early.
Duc nodded, taking another drag from his cigarette. The two stood silently for a moment, the weight of their shared history unspoken but understood. More footsteps echoed in the distance. Duc’s heart quickened as Yume Kui Mei stepped into the faint light. She was an imposing, tall, lean figure, her purple tattoos shimmering faintly in the dim glow. Her movements were almost predatory, her gaze unsettlingly calm as it scanned the alley.
Yume: A fitting place for outcasts to plot their rebellion. I hope this isn’t a waste of my time, Duc.
Duc: You’ll find it worth your while. Trust me. Where’s Kazuo?
Yume raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she leaned against a graffiti-covered wall. The painted letters behind her spell out “No Kings” in jagged strokes. The next arrival was Kazuo Oni, his presence as ominous as the thunder rumbling in the distance. His black-painted nails and eerie tattoos gave him the air of someone who had escaped a nightmare. He carried himself with a quiet menace, his eyes scanning the group with disdain and amusement.
Kazuo: I’m right here! (sneering) Quite the rogues’ gallery you’ve assembled, Nguyen. What’s next? A campfire and s’mores?
Riko rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath.
Riko: Glad you could make it, too, Dracula.
Kazuo ignored her, lighting a cigarette as he leaned against the wall, his face partially obscured by smoke. Moments later, Mariko Fujimoto arrived, her posture rigid, every step purposeful. Her presence brought a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the others. She dressed simply in athletic gear and looked like she had just come from training. Her eyes met Duc’s, and she offered a small nod, her expression unreadable.
Mariko: Let’s get on with it. I don’t have all night.
The final figure to appear was Gao Yun. His entrance was quieter, almost subdued, but his presence carried a weight that couldn’t be ignored. He adjusted the collar of his jacket, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the group.
Gao: Well, Duc, we’re all here. You’ve got our attention. What’s the plan?
The group formed a loose circle around Duc, their expressions mixing skepticism, curiosity, and thinly veiled hostility. Duc flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot before stepping forward.
Duc: Tanaka thinks he’s untouchable. He runs AAPW like a tyrant, discarding anyone who doesn’t fit his vision. We’ve all felt it. The humiliation. The betrayal. He didn’t just fire us—he tried to erase us. Tonight, we decide if we’re going to let him win.
Riko: (crossing her arms) Great speech. What’s the actual plan?
Duc: The Ronin Rumble. Sixty wrestlers. Thirty of theirs. Thirty of ours. We go in there as a unit. Watch each other’s backs, take out as many AAPW wrestlers as possible, and ensure none of them win.
Yume: (smirking) Unity? From this group? Ambitious.
Kazuo: What happens when one of us gets too ambitious? Let’s not pretend we’re saints.
Mariko stepped forward, her voice steady and calm.
Mariko: We don’t have to like each other. We just have to trust that we hate Tanaka more than we hate each other. If we can agree on that, this might work.
The group fell silent momentarily, her words settling over them like a challenge. Duc nodded, grateful for her intervention.
Duc: Exactly. This isn’t about friendship. It’s about sending a message. Tanaka and Yamamoto think we’re broken and disposable. We show them otherwise.
Gao: (leaning against the wall) And what’s your strategy when we’re there? The Rumble’s chaos by design. We won’t even know when we’re entering.
** Duc: ** We adapt. The goal is simple: target AAPW. If one of us sees another in the ring, we team up, clear out the competition, and then worry about the rest. When it’s all said and done, we will ensure Tanaka remembers this night.
Riko: (grinning) I like it. Chaos suits me just fine.
Kazuo: (muttering) Of course, it does.
Yume tilted her head, her voice low and almost teasing.
Yume: And if, by some miracle, one of us wins? What then?
Duc paused, his eyes sweeping over the group.
Duc: Then it’s a bonus. But make no mistake—this isn’t about individual glory. It’s about ruining Tanaka’s night. That’s the priority.
The group exchanged glances, the unspoken tension palpable. Riko broke the silence with a shrug.
Riko: Fine. I’ll play along. But if anyone tries to screw me over, I’m throwing them out myself.
Mariko: Agreed. Trust only goes so far.
Kazuo chuckled darkly.
Kazuo: A fragile alliance built on mutual hatred. Poetic, isn’t it?
Duc ignored the jab, stepping back and addressing them all.
Duc: Look, we’ve all been through hell because of Tanaka. This is our chance to hit back. Hard. We do this together, or we let him win. The choice is yours.
For a moment, the only sound was the distant rumble of thunder and the faint hum of the city.The dim light from a single flickering streetlamp cast eerie shadows against the graffiti-covered walls. Duc Nguyen stood at the center, his eyes scanning the narrow confines of the alley. They were finishing their conversation, the energy of their newfound alliance tangible but cautious. The six wrestlers, united by vengeance against Haruki Tanaka and the Yamamoto Yakuza, were plotting their strategy for the Ronin Rumble, but something felt wrong.
Duc: Wait. Something’s off.
Kazuo: I feel it too…
The group fell silent. A faint rustling broke the quiet, followed by the echo of approaching footsteps. From the shadows emerged Daichi Sasaki, the imposing leader of AAPW’s Syndicate stable. The rest of his group flanked his confident stride: Isao Kurosawa, Yasuo Okada, and from the other side of the alley approached Shinji Kobayashi and Daiki Yamashita, trapping Duc and his friends. The clink of metal echoed as they carried baseball bats and crowbars, their intentions as clear as the disdain etched on their faces.
Daichi: Well, well. The rebels of the wrestling world are plotting their little uprising. Did you think we wouldn’t find out?
Duc’s jaw tightened as his hand curled into a fist.
Duc: This is between us and Tanaka. Walk away!
Daichi laughed, a cold, humorless sound.
Daichi: You insult the Yakuza’s honor with your treachery. Tonight, we send a message to you and the rest of Ultimate Wrestling.
He gestured, and the Syndicate spread out, blocking both ends of the alley. The trap was set.
Riko: What’s the matter, Daichi? Are you afraid we’ll make you look bad in the Rumble? I always knew you were a punk bitch! All you Yakuza thugs are!
Isao: You won’t make it to the Rumble, you stupid little cunt. We’ll see to that!
Daichi barked a command.
Daichi: Get them!
The Syndicate charged, their weapons gleaming in the dim light. The alley erupted into chaos. Daichi swung his bat at Duc, who narrowly dodged and countered with a hard punch to the gut. The sound of fists meeting flesh reverberated through the confined space. Nearby, Kazuo Oni grappled with Shinji Kobayashi, their massive frames colliding with a dumpster, denting its metal surface. Mariko Fujimoto was a blur of motion, evading Yasuo Okada’s wild swings with her agility. She leaped onto a stack of crates, launching herself into a corkscrew kick that sent Yasuo sprawling.
Mariko: Guess money and power can’t buy skill!
She landed gracefully, her taunt cutting through the noise of the fight. Riko Matsumoto engaged Daiki Yamashita, her speed and precision outmatching his calculated strikes. She ducked under a swing, springboarding off the alley wall to deliver a spinning DDT. Daiki groaned as his head slammed into the pavement.
Nearby, Gao Yun faced Isao Kurosawa, dodging a crowbar swing with a sharp sidestep. Gao: "You call that a hit? I’ve felt worse falling off rooftops!" Gao’s forearm strike was brutal, sending Isao stumbling. Yume Kui Mei moved with eerie precision, her strikes calculated and devastating. She caught Yasuo trying to rise, delivering a crescent moon kick to his ribs that left him gasping for air. Her calm, methodical violence was a stark contrast to Gao’s unrestrained fury.
Despite their resolve, the group was faltering under the Syndicate’s numbers and weapons. Daichi’s sheer strength overwhelmed Duc, driving him to his knees with a brutal spinebuster. Shinji threw Kazuo into a wall, leaving a crack in the brick from the impact. Yasuo recovered enough to blindside Mariko with a cheap shot, sending her crashing into a stack of garbage cans.
The Syndicate’s confidence grew as they gained the upper hand.
Daichi: Is this the best you’ve all got? No one ,you couldn’t cut it in AAPW!
He sneered, raising his bat for another strike. A sickening crack echoed as Isao’s crowbar collided with Gao Yun’s forehead. Blood streamed down his face, but instead of crumpling, Gao began to laugh—a wild, unhinged sound that sent chills through the alley.
Gao: You’ve done it now. You want chaos? I’ll give it to you asshole!
Gao wrenched the crowbar from Isao’s grip with terrifying force, spinning it in his hands like a weapon of war.
Gao: Let me show you how it’s done fuck face!
Gao’s movements became a blur of violence. He swung the crowbar with reckless abandon, striking Isao in the ribs, the back, and finally the head. The sound of metal meeting flesh was sickening. Blood sprayed across the alley as Gao screamed incoherent threats, his voice a mix of rage and exhilaration.
Gao: When I’m done with you, your own mother won’t recognize you!
The Syndicate froze, momentarily stunned by Gao’s ferocity. Isao crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around him. His teammates hesitated, their confidence shaken. Duc seized the opportunity, rallying his team.
Duc: Now! Take them down!
Kazuo roared, charging at Shinji with renewed vigor. He caught the Syndicate member mid-swing, slamming him into the ground with a devastating powerbomb.
Kazuo: You don’t belong here.
He growled, standing over him. Mariko and Riko combined their agility to overwhelm Yasuo. Mariko launched a missile dropkick, sending him into Riko’s waiting arms for a snap suplex onto the hard pavement. Yume delivered a brutal crescent moon kick to Daiki’s jaw, her precision slicing through his defenses.
Yume: Your mind games won’t save you now.
Her voice was icy and resolute. Duc faced Daichi again, this time with the upper hand. He blocked a bat swing and delivered a knee to Daichi’s gut, following it with a snap DDT.
Duc: You underestimated us, just like Tanaka. Big mistake!
Daichi, seeing his stablemates faltering, raised a hand.
Daichi: Fall back! Retreat! Will finish this at the Rumble!
The Syndicate scrambled, but Gao wasn’t finished. Blood-drunk and wild-eyed, he advanced on Isao, who lay defenseless.
Gao: You like the taste of steel, fuck face? Let me give you seconds!
He brought the crowbar down again and again, his strikes savage and unrelenting. Blood splattered across the alley as Gao’s laughter filled the air, a chilling cacophony of vengeance.
Mariko: By my ancestors! Gao, stop! He’s done!
She shouted, but Gao was lost in the chaos, muttering incoherent threats.
Gao: You think you can break me? Do you think I’m afraid? I'm not afraid of anything! Not even death!
It took Duc and Kazuo to restrain him, each grabbing an arm and dragging him back. Gao struggled against them, his bloodied face twisted in rage.
Duc: Enough, Gao! You made your point; we don’t want a murder charge brought against us.
Kazuo: It’s over, man. Save for the ring, buddy... Save it for the ring.
Gao finally relented, dropping the crowbar with a metallic clang. He glared at the Syndicate as they dragged Isao away, bloodied and broken. The alley fell silent save for the ragged breaths of the victors.The sound of retreating footsteps faded into the night, leaving the alley a battlefield of blood and chaos. The air was thick with the acrid scent of sweat, iron, and the faint burn of adrenaline. Duc Nguyen stood in the center, his chest heaving as he surveyed the scene. The Syndicate’s retreat was a victory, but it had come at a cost.
Kazuo knelt next to Gao, who was still trembling with rage. Blood streaked down Gao’s face, blending with the smears on his hands and chest. His eyes were wild, darting between his allies and the carnage he’d wrought.
Gao: Over? Over when they’re still breathing? Over when Tanaka and Yamoto still sit on their throne?
Duc grabbed Gao by the shoulder, pulling him upright. His voice was sharp but steady.
Duc: We sent a message tonight. That’s enough—for now. Save the rest for the Rumble. Were going to need it.
Riko looked down at the bloodied crowbar, her face a mixture of awe and discomfort.
Riko: Remind me never to piss you off, Gao. Crazy bastard. Hahaha hah.
Mariko: Or let him near a crowbar again.
Her quip broke the tension, drawing faint smiles from the group despite the carnage. Even Gao cracked a twisted grin, wiping the blood from his brow with the back of his hand.
Yume, ever composed, leaned against the alley wall, her eyes narrowing.
Yume: They won’t forget this. Neither will Tanaka. Tonight bought us time, but it’s also raised the stakes. We need to be ready.
Duc nodded, his gaze hardening.
Duc: We will be. This isn’t just about survival anymore. It’s about taking back what’s ours—and making sure Tanaka and his lapdogs pay for what they’ve done.
The group exchanged glances, a flicker of understanding passing between them. They were bruised, bloodied, and battered, but they were still standing. And now, more than ever, they were united.
Duc gestured toward the mouth of the alley.
Duc: Let’s get out of here. The Syndicate knows we’re not backing down. We’ve got a Rumble to win.
As they moved as a group, the alley fell silent again, the shadows reclaiming their space. The graffiti-strewn walls bore the marks of their clash—scattered weapons, bloodstains, and the faint echo of defiance.
They left the scene behind, but the war was far from over.