What we discovered was a scene like walking into Hell.
Being so close to the wrestlers brought no excitement whatsoever to the fans. The ringside was a mishmash of wrestlers, customers, and bouncers. Fans were punching bouncers as the bouncers were trying to get to the wrestlers. The wrestlers didn’t care who was who. Whoever was in arm’s reach got tossed aside. One would expect Sammy Lee to be choosing his opponents, but with the blood gushing from his forehead he couldn’t see very well and as a result he was bashing heads indiscriminately. Golem was doing anything he could to get to him, and was randomly smashing and throwing like an angry hurricane. People, furniture, dishes, it was all just junk in the way to him. It all went flying randomly though the air.
For a time, we were going to try and settle the riot down. After that we would be able to look for Landis. It would be great if he was still alive, but under the circumstances, it was hard to be optimistic.
I set the sights of my heatgun on the ring. You got it. The remedy was shock treatment. It goes without saying that shock can be very effective.
I aimed for the center of the mat, set the power gauge to full, and pulled the trigger.
The next moment.
The mat exploded into flames. The sudden blast rattled my eardrums. The bright flames roared, touching the ceiling, and spread in a circle.
Even I was taken by surprise by how huge the blast was.
In under a second the entire ring was ashes.
A moment later Yuri tossed an extinguisher capsule to the center of the fire while at the same time knocking out the heat sensor on the ceiling with her ray gun. The extinguisher spray in those ceiling sprayers is terrible for your skin, you know.
After the fire was out and the smoke cleared, all that was left of the ring were four blackened steel corner posts. The entire nightclub had fallen silent.
The room got so quiet, I almost thought something was wrong with my ears.
The wrestlers, customers, and bouncers all stood frozen, staring at us dumbfounded.
We were so gorgeous, they just couldn’t pull their eyes off of us—I could say, but only as obvious comic relief.
At first, one bouncer came over to us.
“What in the hell are trying to do?!” he yelled loudly, coming closer.
I responded with the heatgun. With a painful moan, the bouncer vanished.
“Who do you think you are screwing with?!” rattled a deep voice from my periphery. If dinosaurs could speak, this is what their voices would probably sound like. It was a craggy voice, like he was speaking while gargling rocks.
Shoving away the broken tables and chairs, the source of the dinosaur voice—The Golem, came right toward me.
“You are the one screwing around,” I replied to Golem. “Professional wrestlers keep it in the ring!”
“What the—!”
Golem’s face was livid. His features became strained, and his expression was one of hatred.
I lowered the heatgun and took my finger off the trigger. Even if I were to set his foot ablaze, he wasn’t going to run away crying. And on the other side, killing him in cold blood wouldn’t be good, either. There was only one person that could take Golem on… or I should say, one living thing…
“Knock it off!”
Someone landed between Golem and me.
Hold on! Hold on! I grasped my head. Not you! Jeff’s not who I was thinking of.
Konk.
There was a heavy thud.
Golem’s arm slowly returned to his side.
Jeff spun around. His ten-gallon hat went flying into the air, and his body fell to the floor.
“Jeff!”
I threw myself to the fallen Jeff. Aslaville’s sheriff’s eyes rolled back into his head. He was barely conscious. This was awful. Destroying something so handsome.
“You really shouldn’t have done that!”
I glared at Golem.
“So? What can you do about it?”
Golem stuck out his chest. Up close, he really was enormous. He was only slightly smaller than an elephant.
A black shadow danced through the air.
It swooped down and landed, standing just diagonally from me, never making a sound.
The monster wrestler winced, and took a step back.
The shaking feelers. The sharp, pointy fangs. The long claws which can tear KZ alloy into ribbons. The jet-black body, wrapped in a deep, glossy fur, and those eyes, burning with fire, only hinting at the storm that raged behind them. A kind of phantom, but not one you hear of in legendary stories of evil spirits. A lot more is required to defeat this phantom in battle.
The Black Destroyer Mugi.
Mugi got down low and proceeded forward. He moved right in front of Golem. He was only three meters away. With a dark sparkle in his eye, his entire body gushed with animosity. He was the living incarnation of bloodlust. To Golem it might have felt like he had a drawn sword at his throat. His face had gone flush, and he didn’t move a muscle.
“Where’s Landis? Is he alive?” Yuri asked coldly, coming over to me after walking through and checking the faces of the frozen-in-shock customers. She still held the ray gun in her right hand. She hadn’t holstered it.
“Are, are you talking about me?”
Immediately to my left was a tall mountain of busted tables and chairs. The response came from inside that mound.
The mountain bulged out, and then tore through.
His shirt was torn in several places, and his face had some bumps and bruises, but there was no doubt that it was Landis who climbed out of the hole. It appeared he’d taken some punches, and escaped inside the pile of broken furnishings. It seemed only regular customers were accustomed to such scenes of carnage.
“Are you Landis?” I asked.
“Mine #11’s Landis,” he answered in a whisper with a befuddled look. From the open floor a flood of voices began to rise. With the initial fear passing, the customers were talking amongst themselves trying to assess the scene.
I raised my voice a little.
“We are Kei and Yuri from the WWWA,” I enunciated clearly. “We came here because we have some questions we would like to ask you.”
For a moment, the din of voices fell silent. It seemed like everyone present all swallowed their breath at the same time. Even The Golem’s eyes got big and round.
“Dirty Pair…,” someone said.
That was our cue.
Again the floor was engulfed in a high-pitched chatter from the crowd.
Then it happened.
“Everyone, quiet…”
The calm, yet practiced and dignified voice carried over throughout the club.
Suddenly the murmuring stopped.
I turned around.
It was coming from the two giant screens. At some point the screens that were used to see the bouts up close starting broadcasting something different.
I could see a man’s face. He looked to be just entering his fifties. He was pretty chubby, and it looked like he had three chins. His eyes were small and round, like a couple of brown berries. His hair was gray and thinning.
“I am the owner, Telestofarnus,” said the face on the screen. “The fine ladies of the WWWA will please excuse my sudden interruption. But after all, it seems like my wrestling hall has been put into quite a chaotic state. A quiet and calm conversation isn’t likely. What do you say to continuing our chat in my office. Here there are no grapplers or boorish bouncers.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “We’re bringing Landis with us.”
“Of course, the more the merrier,” said Telestofarnus, waving any doubt away with his right hand.
“Also, call an ambulance,” added Yuri. “The sheriff got beat up pretty bad.”
“Consider it done.”
The overweight owner nodded, raising his thick triangular eyebrows.
The screen went black.
“Excuse me,” the manager said, coming up to us. “This way, please. Allow me to show you to the owner’s room.”
He respectfully lowered his head.