The battle between Zaurus and Tank was underway.
It was incredible—seriously, it was at a level where I wondered why we hadn't made it the main event.
I’d told them, "No bloodshed if possible," so headbutts and weapon attacks were off the table. Those sorts of things actually require the audience to have a high level of technical appreciation to enjoy properly.
Because of that constraint, the match became an exchange of extremely high-level techniques. They were true pros. They started with strikes before transitioning into wrestling technicals polished to the absolute limit, sending the crowd into a frenzy.
It was the kind of match that really resonated with the people of the Ogre God Nation, who were accustomed to the discipline of formal kata. From there, the two super-heavyweights traded high-impact aerial maneuvers. Even for someone from a martial arts background, it was heart-pounding stuff.
Then came the flashy throwing techniques unique to pro-wrestling. In the Ogre God Nation, where the entire population consisted of martial artists, everyone understood exactly how dangerous those moves were. Cheers erupted every time a technique landed; they even seemed to enjoy the submission holds.
Zaurus went down and struggled to get back up. Tank looked down at him and roared.
"Damn it, Zaurus! Our comrades who were killed by the Zork can't get back up anymore!"
Tank delivered a Stomping, and Zaurus staggered to his feet.
"Then give me everything you've got!"
"Uoooohhhhh!" Zaurus roared back.
From there, they began trading chops. Come to think of it, I’d seen it on the news: during the attack on the Imperial Capital, a pro-wrestling venue had been raided. Every wrestler there had been slaughtered.
"Zaurus's tag team partner was a man named Kiba," Wifey told me. "He fought to the very end to let the audience escape. It was all captured on the surveillance cameras."
Man, they were really trying to make us cry!
A thunderous roar arose from the audience, who had been informed of this backstory through the event pamphlets.
"Leo-san, avenging one's comrades is the ultimate heroic tale in the Ogre God Nation," Saria explained. "To fight and take revenge... in this country, that makes you a hero."
I see. It was slightly different from the Empire, but the sentiment was similar enough that I wondered if we shared the same ancestors.
"Especially now, the citizens are desperate for revenge against the Proone. This might turn into something extraordinary."
Hm? What did he mean by that? While we were sitting in the VIP seats, we still had no idea about the disastrous state of the merchandising stalls.
The chops turned into elbow strikes as the two traded blows repeatedly. The sound of grinding flesh and the pulsing of muscles held the audience in a state of bated breath. Finally, both men unleashed a Lariat at the same moment. The strike, imbued with their very souls, shook the entire arena.
Both men staggered, but Tank had clearly taken more damage. He stood there, dazed and defenseless.
"Kibaaa! I... I came to outer space in your place!"
Zaurus screamed the name of his deceased tag team partner as he hoisted Tank up. He fell to his side, slamming Tank's massive frame into the mat.
Emerald Flowsion.
The finishing move landed perfectly. Then came the three-count.
It was a truly magnificent match. The entire audience was on their feet, and as the two men embraced afterward, they were showered with cheers. Seriously, this was enough to make anyone tear up.
I started to worry—could the students actually follow a match like that? Was it even safe for them to try?
As I was fretting, Wifey was checking her correspondence course. She looked back at me, her face deathly pale.
"What's wrong?"
"...A crowd rushed the stalls demanding the Zaurus and Tank's Match Highlights... T-the stalls have collapsed."
"Oh... Saria-chi..."
Saria was also receiving a transmission.
"Ah, there's a problem on my end too... it seems the guards were shoved aside."
Me, Saria, and even Wifey had underestimated the situation. The quality of the match had been too high. Excitement, manly pride, tears—it was all there. In just over ten minutes, the names of Zaurus and Tank had spread across the entire Ogre God Nation.
Then Saria received another transmission.
"Ah, yes. This is Saria. Eh? A flood of orders for the Battle Dome? Wait, I've already resigned as the manager! Great King, please do something about it! ...What do you mean, 'there's nothing you can do'?!"
"O-Oh..."
"Both of you, please do something!"
We had to do something, but the one who actually calmed the situation was Claire.
Claire entered the arena to an idol song that had been a hot topic on the net. Her costume was adorable, and her opponent was the same idol type, entering to another cute track. The audience, who had been trembling with emotion until a moment ago, was caught completely off guard.
I think everyone was thinking the same thing: "Wait, can they actually fight?"
They didn't know how strong Claire was. As expected, Claire and her opponent left the audience stunned. It was a barrage of flashy moves, exactly what you'd expect from the girls' division. They were flying all over the place and even took the brawl outside the ring.
Sure, compared to the professionals, their pro-wrestling technical skills were lower, but they more than made up for it with overwhelming physical ability. I mean, Claire is one of our Ace Pilots, after all.
The girl she was facing didn't back down either; she was a student of the Officer Academy, after all. Even though it was student pro-wrestling, she followed up a Body Slam by using the rope recoil to perform a full rotation, slamming her body into the opponent.
A Lionsault. It was amazing. The audience was thoroughly satisfied.
"W-we managed to pull through somehow..."
"Phew..."
Or so I thought, until Saria looked like he was about to cry again.
"Now a riot has broken out over the photo books..."
At that point, I gave up. Wifey and Saria did too. We just distributed vouchers to be exchanged for the books at a later date.
As for the boys of the Pro-wrestling Research Club... despite my explicit warnings, they went ahead and performed their Student Pro-wrestling Ultimate Secret Art: a Piledriver on top of a kotatsu, better known as the Kotatsu Driver.
I told them that wouldn't translate well to beginners! I’d decided that if they did the version where they shoved the opponent's head into their underwear, I'd throw them in the brig without question, so I suppose I'm just glad it was a normal Piledriver. At least it was still presentable to the public. The audience didn't seem to understand the context, but the sheer surrealism of it got a laugh.
Why are you guys such gluttons for punishment? Honestly!
Still, I was grateful they managed to cool the audience's fever down in a weird way.
Later that afternoon, we held a baseball exhibition match. However, it had to be cancelled because Piggett's Personal Guard Grass Baseball Team caused so many injuries to the opposing team—without even starting a brawl. The Officer Academy Baseball Club was supposed to be a top-tier school in the district, but... well, the crowd loved it anyway, so I'll count it as a win.
I hadn't intended for any of this to be propaganda against the Proone, but it seems public opinion in the Ogre God Nation has reached a boiling point regardless.
Diplomacy really is difficult.