RSPW Carnage 38
📺 Live on the Sanctioned Violence Network
📍 Samurai Summit Arena & Casino, Tokyo Japan
📆 13th February 2026
The camera pans across the neon-drenched skyline of Tokyo before diving into the heart of the city, focusing on the towering, samurai-inspired façade of the Samurai Summit Arena & Casino. The entrance, designed like a massive castle gate, swallows thousands of fans who are eager for a night of Puroresu. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of ozone and the rhythmic jingle of the adjacent casino floor, creating an atmosphere that pulses with high-stakes energy.
“Welcome to RSPW Carnage! I’m Hiro Tanaka, and tonight, the spirit of the samurai clashes with the pursuit of fortune right here in Tokyo!” Tanaka’s voice booms over the roar of the crowd.
“And I’m Alex Mercer,” his partner chimes in, his tone sharp and analytical. “Forget the slot machines next door, Hiro. The real gambles are happening inside that ring. We’ve got athletes putting their careers and their bodies on the line for honor and gold.”
The lights in the arena dim, replaced by sweeping red and gold spotlights that dance across the tiered seating. On the big screen, the Rising Sun Pro Wrestling logo flashes, flanked by images of the night’s competitors.
“We kick things off with a clash of styles,” Tanaka says. “The resilient Emi Sato goes one-on-one with the technical prowess of Mei Nakamura. These two have been trading barbs for weeks, and tonight, the talking stops.”
“Sato better have a plan for Nakamura’s ground game,” Mercer warns. “If Mei locks in that cross-armbreaker, it’s game over before the first commercial break.”
The screen shifts to show a massive figure and a technician. “Then,” Tanaka continues, “the powerhouse King Neptune looks to drown the aspirations of Daiki Yutaka. It’s raw strength against pure wrestling heart.”
“And don’t look past the Triple Threat, Hiro!” Mercer adds. “Hiro Ryuu, Haruki Hayashi, and Kazuki Nakamura. Three of the fastest, most innovative flyers in RSPW. This isn’t just a match; it’s a car crash at two hundred miles per hour.”
A graphic for Misaki versus Takeshi Kobayashi appears, the tension between the two images palpable. “Personal animosity takes center stage when Misaki meets Kobayashi,” Tanaka notes. “There is no love lost there, Alex. This one is going to be a fight, pure and simple.”
The final graphic illuminates the arena: Sho Imai Jr. defending the RSPW Junior Heavyweight Championship against the challenger, Reina Kuroi.
“And our main event,” Tanaka shouts over a sudden surge in crowd volume. “The Junior Heavyweight Championship is on the line! Sho Imai Jr. has been a fighting champion, but Reina Kuroi is a force of nature. Can the ‘Prince of the Sky’ keep his crown, or will we see a new era begin tonight?”
“Imai’s legacy is at stake,” Mercer says solemnly. “Kuroi doesn’t just want the belt; she wants to dismantle everything the Imai name stands for.”
The pyrotechnics explode at the top of the ramp, a shower of sparks signaling the start of the show. The camera settles on the ring, where the referee is already checking the ropes.
“Tradition meets innovation,” Tanaka declares as the opening theme music swells. “Honor meets violence. This is Rising Sun Pro Wrestling! This… is Carnage!”
Single Match
Emi Sato vs. Mei Nakamura
The lights in the Samurai Summit Arena transition to a soft, focused lavender as the steady, driving beat of “Techno-Precision” hits the PA system. Mei Nakamura emerges from the curtain, her expression one of cold, clinical focus. She doesn’t play to the crowd, instead adjusting her wrist tape with rhythmic snaps.
“And here comes the ‘Cyber-Submitter’ herself,” Alex Mercer says, leaning into his mic. “Mei Nakamura is a student of the human anatomy, Hiro. She doesn’t just want to win; she wants to find the exact point where Emi Sato’s willpower snaps.”
“She’s as dangerous as they come on the mat,” Tanaka agrees. “But listen to this ovation!”
The mood shifts instantly as a high-energy J-Pop anthem blares. Emi Sato explodes through the curtain, slapping hands with fans and looking energized despite the high stakes. She slides into the ring and immediately heads to the turnbuckle, rallying the Tokyo crowd.
“Emi Sato represents the heart of this division,” Tanaka shouts over the cheers. “She’s the underdog who refuses to stay down!”
The bell rings, and the two circle. Sato offers a traditional lock-up, but Nakamura feints, dropping low and snatching Sato’s ankle. With a slick transition, Nakamura trips her to the canvas and immediately begins working on the left leg, grinding her forearm into Sato’s calf.
“Look at the leverage,” Mercer points out. “Nakamura is already setting the table. She wants that leg weakened to take away Sato’s explosive striking.”
Sato gasps, kicking out with her free leg to create space. She scrambles to her feet and catches Nakamura with a stiff forearm smash. Nakamura barely flinches, returning fire with a stinging leg kick that echoes through the arena. Sato winces but fires back with a three-hit combination—forearm, forearm, and a spinning back-fist that sent Nakamura reeling into the ropes.
Sato sees her opening. She whips Nakamura across the ring, looking for a back-body drop, but Nakamura telegraphs it, leaping over Sato’s head and landing on her feet. As Sato turns, Nakamura catches her mid-air with a devastating jumping armbar!
“Cross Armbreaker! She’s got it locked in the center of the ring!” Tanaka screams.
Sato screams in agony as Nakamura arches her hips, pulling back on the limb. The crowd is on their feet, chanting “Emi! Emi!” Sato’s fingers desperately claw at the canvas, inching toward the bottom rope. Just as she’s about to tap, she manages to hook her boot under the bottom cable.
“Break the hold!” the referee commands. Nakamura holds it until the count of four-and-a-half before releasing with a dismissive smirk.
Sato pulls herself up using the ropes, clutching her arm. Nakamura charges with a corner dropkick, but Sato moves! Nakamura hits the turnbuckles hard. Sato seizes the momentum, hitting a desperate Bulldog followed by a standing Moonsault for a count of two.
“Sato is fighting through the pain! That’s the spirit of RSPW right there!” Tanaka yells.
Sato ascends the turnbuckle, looking for her signature high-flying finish. She leaps—but Nakamura catches the injured arm in mid-air, rolling through with the momentum. In a seamless display of grappling, Nakamura transitions from the fall into a brutal Kimura lock.
“She caught her! Nakamura anticipated the leap!” Mercer shouts.
Nakamura wraps her legs around Sato’s torso, trapping her in the middle of the ring. Sato tries to roll through, tries to punch her way out, but the torque Nakamura is applying to the shoulder is too much. Sato’s face contorts, her hand hovering over the mat before finally, reluctantly, she taps out.
The referee calls for the bell.
“Your winner by submission: Mei Nakamura!” the announcer declares.
Nakamura releases the hold and stands up, barely out of breath. She looks down at Sato, who is being tended to by the referee, and simply nods to the commentary table.
“Clinical, Hiro. That was a masterclass,” Mercer says. “Sato had the heart, but Nakamura had the blueprint. One mistake on that top rope, and the ‘Cyber-Submitter’ deleted the competition.”
“A huge win to kick off Carnage 38,” Tanaka adds. “But the night is just beginning.”
Backstage
The camera cuts backstage to the interview area, where the RSPW Heavyweight Championship belt rests over the shoulder of Ryujiro. He stands tall, the gold reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights, looking every bit the stoic anchor of the promotion. Beside him, Rei Yoshida holds the microphone, her expression serious as she looks into the lens.
“I’m here with the RSPW Heavyweight Champion, Ryujiro,” Rei begins. “Ryujiro, the landscape of this company feels like it’s shifting beneath our feet. Over the last few weeks, we’ve seen several prominent names, pillars of this locker room, choose to walk away from Rising Sun Pro Wrestling. As the man carrying the top prize, what is your perspective on the state of the roster?”
Ryujiro shifts the weight of the title, his eyes fixed and unwavering. He takes the microphone from Rei with a firm nod.
“The rumors are true, Rei. People look at the news, they see the names leaving, and they start to wonder if the foundation is cracking,” Ryujiro’s voice is deep, resonating with a calm authority. “I’ve watched friends and rivals pack their gear and head for what they think are greener pastures. That is their choice. They are looking for an exit. But me?”
He taps the center plate of the championship.
“I am still here. I am the Heavyweight Champion, and I am here to stay. This ring, this company—it isn’t just a stop on a tour for me. It is my home. The ‘Dragon’ doesn’t fly away when the wind changes direction; he digs his claws in deeper.”
“That’s a powerful statement of loyalty,” Rei says, “but with those departures, the target on your back has only grown larger. There is a vacuum at the top of the mountain.”
“Exactly,” Ryujiro says, a sharp, competitive glint appearing in his eyes. “If the old guard is moving on, then it’s time for the new blood to stop talking and start fighting. This belt represents the peak of Puroresu. I don’t want a challenger who is just happy to be on the poster. I want someone with the fire to try and take this from my cold, dead hands.”
He steps closer to the camera, the championship held high between him and the lens.
“So, I’m laying down the gauntlet. To anyone left in that locker room, to anyone who thinks the departure of others is their shortcut to the top: Step up. Show me you have the heart to lead RSPW into the next era. I’m standing right here in the center of the ring, and I’m not moving for anyone.”
Ryujiro hands the mic back to a stunned Rei and walks off-frame, the clinking of the championship plates the only sound left in the hallway.
“The Champion has spoken,” Alex Mercer says as the broadcast returns to ringside. “He’s essentially calling out the entire building. That’s a bold move when you’re the only big prize left to hunt.”
“He’s the soul of this place, Alex,” Tanaka adds. “Ryujiro just put a massive ‘Open’ sign on the Heavyweight title picture. Who has the guts to answer?”
Single Match
King Neptune vs. Daiki Yutaka
The atmosphere shifts as a deep, bubbling synthesized sound echoes through the Samurai Summit Arena. The lights turn a shimmering aquatic blue, and King Neptune emerges, his ornate trident-themed mask glistening under the spots. He raises his arms, and the Tokyo crowd erupts in a massive “NEP-TUNE! NEP-TUNE!” chant.
“The King of the Deep has arrived!” Hiro Tanaka shouts. “A man of mystery, but there is no mystery about his popularity. This crowd absolutely loves him.”
“Popularity doesn’t win matches, Hiro,” Alex Mercer counters. “Daiki Yutaka is a technician who doesn’t care about pageantry. He’s looking to chop Neptune down to size.”
Yutaka is already in the ring, pacing like a caged animal. He doesn’t wait for the formal introduction. As soon as Neptune steps through the ropes, Yutaka charges, but the masked fan favorite catches him with a thunderous shoulder tackle that sends Yutaka sprawling.
The bell rings, and Neptune dominates the opening minutes with sheer power. He hoist Yutaka up for a massive delayed vertical suplex, holding him aloft for ten seconds as the crowd counts along before slamming him down. Neptune follows up with a heavy leg drop, but Yutaka kicks out at two.
“Neptune’s strength is overwhelming,” Tanaka says. “Yutaka needs to find an opening, and fast.”
Yutaka finds it by going low. As Neptune prepares for a corner splash, Yutaka drops and clips the big man’s knee. Neptune stumbles, and Yutaka begins a systematic assault, using dragon screws and sharp kicks to the hamstring. Neptune is forced to his base, fighting from his knees as the crowd tries to rally him.
“There’s the strategy! Take out the legs, and the King loses his throne,” Mercer notes.
Neptune fights back with a desperate roar, catching Yutaka’s leg and delivering a devastating enzuigiri that buys him some breathing room. He slowly pulls himself up, the fans’ cheers reaching a fever pitch. He signals for the ‘Abyssal Slam,’ but just as he lifts Yutaka into the air, a dark figure vaults over the barricade.
“Wait a minute! Who is that?” Tanaka screams.
Isamu Kurogami, clad in black, slides into the ring like a shadow. Before Neptune can react, Kurogami delivers a stiff, running big boot directly to Neptune’s skull. The referee immediately signals for the bell, waving his arms frantically.
“Your winner by disqualification: King Neptune!”
“Kurogami? What is he doing here?” Tanaka demands as the bell rings repeatedly.
The match is over, but the assault is just beginning. Kurogami doesn’t care about the DQ. He pummels Neptune with heavy, measured strikes. Yutaka, seeing an opportunity, joins in the beatdown. The two men isolate Neptune, Yutaka holding the masked hero’s arms back while Kurogami delivers a series of soul-crushing knees to the midsection.
“This is uncalled for! This is a mugging!” Tanaka cries out.
Kurogami grabs Neptune by the throat, staring intensely into the mask before slamming him back down to the canvas with a high-angle backdrop driver. The crowd is hooting and jeering as Kurogami stands over the fallen hero, his face a mask of cold indifference.
“Isamu Kurogami has just made a violent statement at the expense of one of RSPW’s most beloved stars,” Mercer says, his voice low. “He didn’t come for a match. He came for a message.”
“A disgusting act,” Tanaka fumes. “Neptune wins the match, but he’s the one being carried out. We need security down here!”
Backstage
The camera transitions to the interview area, where Rei Yoshida stands alongside the legendary Misaki. The veteran’s presence is commanding, her gear a vibrant splash of color against the industrial backstage backdrop. She adjusts her wrist tape, her eyes burning with a quiet, focused intensity that has defined her career for over a decade.
“I am backstage with a woman who needs no introduction, the legendary Misaki,” Rei begins, her voice reflecting the respect the locker room holds for the veteran. “Misaki, tonight you face a daunting challenge in Takeshi Kobayashi. This is a cross-divisional clash that has the fans buzzing, but beyond tonight, people are wondering what your ultimate goal is here in RSPW.”
Misaki takes a breath, her gaze shifting from her hands to the camera. The crowd’s distant cheers for the previous segment echo through the hallway, but she remains a pillar of calm.
“Rei, I’ve traveled the world. I’ve held gold in rings across continents, and I’ve seen faces come and go,” Misaki says, her voice steady and resonant. “But Takeshi Kobayashi is a special kind of problem. He’s dangerous, he’s unpredictable, and he thinks he can use me as a stepping stone to prove his dominance. He thinks my experience is just another word for ‘past her prime.’”
She leans in closer to the microphone, a small, confident smirk playing on her lips.
“Tonight, I’m going to show Takeshi—and everyone watching—that my experience is a weapon he isn’t prepared to defend against. I’m not just going out there to survive; I’m going out there to win. Because tonight is the first step in a much larger climb.”
“A climb to where, exactly?” Rei asks.
“Look at the top of the mountain in the Junior Heavyweight division,” Misaki states firmly. “Sho Imai Jr. and Reina Kuroi are fighting for that title tonight, but they need to look over their shoulders. I’m climbing the rankings, Rei. I’m coming for the RSPW Junior Heavyweight Championship. Tonight, Kobayashi is the obstacle, but the gold is the destination. After I’m through with him, the champion will know that Misaki is no longer a legend of the past—she is the threat of the present.”
“Strong words from a true icon,” Hiro Tanaka’s voice cuts in as the feed returns to ringside. “She’s focused on the gold, but Kobayashi is a monster to get past first.”
“She’s got the resume, Hiro, but the Junior Heavyweight division is a shark tank,” Alex Mercer adds. “If she beats a man like Kobayashi tonight, nobody can deny she belongs in that title picture. It’s a high-stakes gamble for the veteran.”
Single Match
Misaki vs. Takeshi Kobayashi
The lights dim to a deep, ominous crimson as the grinding industrial metal of Takeshi Kobayashi’s theme hits. The “Destroyer” stomps toward the ring, a wall of muscle and malice, ignoring the jeers of the Samurai Summit crowd. He slides into the ring, towering over the referee and pacing with a predatory hunger.
“Kobayashi is in a foul mood tonight, Hiro,” Alex Mercer observes. “He looks at Misaki and doesn’t see a legend; he sees a target. He wants to end her career right here.”
The mood shifts instantly as a melodic, sweeping orchestral piece begins. Misaki walks out to a standing ovation, her face a mask of serene determination. She bows to the four corners of the arena before stepping through the ropes, never taking her eyes off the giant in the opposite corner.
“She has the heart of a lioness, but look at the size discrepancy,” Tanaka says. “Kobayashi outweighs her by nearly eighty pounds!”
The bell rings, and Kobayashi immediately tries to corner her. Misaki uses her speed, ducking under a massive clothesline and peppering Kobayashi’s lead leg with sharp, stinging kicks. Kobayashi snarls, swatting at her like a fly, but Misaki is elusive. She hits the ropes, looking for a cross-body, but Kobayashi catches her mid-air. With horrifying ease, he transitions into a fallaway slam that sends Misaki crashing across the canvas.
“Power! Pure, unadulterated power from Kobayashi!” Mercer shouts.
Kobayashi dominates the middle stretch of the match. He tosses Misaki into the turnbuckle with a lawnmower toss and follows up with a series of brutal, measured headbutts. Each impact draws a collective wince from the crowd. He locks in a bearhug, squeezing the breath out of the veteran. Misaki’s face turns purple, her hands flailing, but she refuses to tap.
“She’s fading, Hiro! The ribs have to be cracking!” Tanaka cries.
The crowd begins a rhythmic clap, chanting “MI-SA-KI! MI-SA-KI!” Fueled by the energy, Misaki drives her thumbs into Kobayashi’s eyes—a desperate move from a veteran who knows she’s in a fight for her life. The referee is slightly out of position, and Kobayashi stumbles back, blinded.
Misaki seizes the opening. She hits a basement dropkick to the knee, bringing the giant down to one leg. She follows up with a series of “Kaka-Geri” axe kicks to the back of his head. Kobayashi tries to stand, but Misaki hits the ropes and connects with a devastating “Rising Sun” knee strike squarely on his jaw.
“She’s got him wobbling! The giant is falling!” Tanaka screams.
Kobayashi is slumped against the ropes. Misaki climbs the turnbuckle, her movements slightly labored from the rib damage. She leaps—”Diving Sunset Flip!”—but Kobayashi stays upright, trying to sit down on her to crush her. At the last possible second, Misaki rolls through, grabbing his trunks and hooking both legs with a bridge of pure desperation.
“One! Two! THREE!”
The referee’s hand hits the mat for the final time. The arena explodes.
“Your winner: Misaki!”
Misaki rolls out of the ring immediately, clutching her midsection and gasping for air as her music blares. Kobayashi is up in an instant, roaring in fury and kicking the steel steps, but the result is official.
“She did it! The veteran’s instinct won out over raw power!” Tanaka shouts over the noise.
“I don’t believe it,” Mercer says, shaking his head. “She took the best Kobayashi had, outsmarted him, and pinned his shoulders to the mat. That’s why she’s a legend. The Junior Heavyweight division just got a massive wake-up call.”
Misaki stands at the top of the ramp, one hand on the railing for support and the other pointed firmly toward the ring. She’s battered, but she’s the victor.
Backstage
The camera cuts to a dimly lit hallway deep in the bowels of the Samurai Summit Arena. The atmosphere is cold, a sharp contrast to the high-energy matches that preceded this moment. Rei Yoshida stands with a microphone, her posture tense as Isamu Kurogami leans against a concrete pillar, his face partially obscured by the shadows.
“I’m here with Isamu Kurogami,” Rei says, her voice cautious. “Isamu, earlier tonight, you shocked the RSPW fans by brutally attacking King Neptune during his match with Daiki Yutaka. You potentially face disciplinary action. The question everyone is asking is… why?”
Kurogami slowly pushes himself off the pillar. He doesn’t look at Rei; instead, he stares directly into the camera lens with eyes that look hollow and dangerous.
Kurogami says, his voice a low, rhythmic growl. “I didn’t come here to play games, and I didn’t come here to watch a man play dress-up.”
He takes a step closer, forcing Rei to instinctively move back.
“King Neptune is a joke. He’s a mascot. He’s a colorful distraction for children who want to believe in fairy tales. This is Rising Sun Pro Wrestling. This is the land of the warrior, the home of the strike, the place where men bleed for respect. And every second that ‘King’ spends in that ring, he pollutes the air that real wrestlers breathe.”
Kurogami reaches up and clenches his fist, the leather of his glove creaking in the silence of the hallway.
“He doesn’t belong here, Rei. He is a virus of ‘entertainment’ in a house of ‘violence.’ I didn’t attack him to get a title shot or a paycheck. I attacked him because I am the cure. I am going to strip that mask off his face and show the world that there is nothing underneath but a man who is afraid of the dark.”
He leans in until he is inches from the lens, his expression devoid of any warmth.
“Neptune, stay in the ocean. Because if you step back into my world, I won’t just cost you a match. I’ll cost you everything.”
Without another word, Kurogami turns and disappears into the shadows of the arena’s loading dock.
“Chilling words from Kurogami,” Hiro Tanaka says as the broadcast returns to the commentary desk. “He’s targeting the very identity of one of our most popular stars.”
“He’s a purist, Hiro, but a sadistic one,” Alex Mercer adds. “Kurogami doesn’t want the spotlight; he wants to extinguish it. King Neptune better find some land-based backup, or his time in RSPW is going to be a nightmare.”
Triple Threat Match
Hiro Ryuu vs. Haruki Hayashi vs. Kazuki Nakamura
The energy in the Samurai Summit Arena shifts to a frantic pace as “Neon Overdrive” kicks in. Hiro Ryuu sprints to the ring, his high-flying reputation preceding him as he leaps onto the apron with a springboard backflip. He is followed by Haruki Hayashi, who carries himself with a swaggering confidence, and finally, Kazuki Nakamura, the “Technical Architect,” who looks toward the ring with calculated precision.
“This is it, Alex! CEO Hiroshi Fujimoto has hinted that the winner of this match moves to the very front of the line for Ryujiro’s Heavyweight Championship!” Hiro Tanaka shouts over the building noise.
“The stakes couldn’t be higher,” Mercer adds. “Ryuu has the speed, Hayashi has the explosive power, and Nakamura has the IQ. In a Triple Threat, alliances are as thin as rice paper.”
The bell rings and the action is instantaneous. Ryuu and Hayashi trade lightning-fast forearms in the center while Nakamura steps back, watching for a weakness. Ryuu hits the ropes, but Hayashi catches him with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Nakamura immediately slides in, trying to steal a pin, but Hayashi kicks him away.
The match becomes a blur of motion. Ryuu scales the turnbuckle and connects with a 450 Splash onto both men, but the impact leaves all three down. The crowd is chanting “RSPW! RSPW!” as they struggle to their feet.
“Ryuu is taking massive risks!” Tanaka yells. “He knows the Heavyweight Title is within reach!”
Nakamura regains control, catching Hayashi in a bridging German Suplex for a count of two, only for Ryuu to break it up with a standing shooting star press. The fatigue begins to show. Hayashi catches Ryuu mid-air with a devastating Hayashi-Bomb, but as he goes for the cover, Nakamura blindsides him with a Shining Wizard.
Nakamura locks Hayashi in a crossface, wrenching back on the neck. Hayashi is inches from tapping when Ryuu dives from the top rope with a Dragon’s Wing leg drop, crashing onto Nakamura’s back.
“Total chaos! Nobody can keep the advantage for more than three seconds!” Mercer exclaims.
In the closing moments, Hayashi clears the ring by tossing Ryuu over the top rope onto the floor. He turns around right into a Nakamura kick, but Hayashi catches the foot, spins him, and connects with a brutal lariat. Hayashi goes to the top, looking to finish it, but Hiro Ryuu suddenly reappears, springboarding from the floor to the top rope in one fluid motion!
Ryuu hits a Super-Rana on Hayashi from the top, sending him crashing into the mat. As Ryuu stands up, Nakamura lunges for a roll-up, but Ryuu rolls through, hits the ropes, and nails the Ryuu-Cutter!
Ryuu covers Nakamura. 1… 2… 3!
“Your winner: Hiro Ryuu!”
Ryuu collapses in the corner, his chest heaving as the referee raises his hand. On the big screen, a graphic flashes showing Hiro Ryuu’s face next to Ryujiro’s Championship.
“Hiro Ryuu has done it! He’s survived the gauntlet!” Tanaka screams. “The ‘Sky-King’ is heading for the Heavyweight Title!”
“He earned it tonight, Hiro,” Mercer concedes. “But Ryujiro is a different beast entirely. Ryuu better enjoy this win while he can still breathe.”
Backstage
The camera cuts to the private locker room of the Crimson Lotus, where the air is thick with the scent of tiger balm and the nervous energy of anticipation. Reina Kuroi sits on a low wooden bench, methodically wrapping her wrists, her eyes fixed on the floor. Standing over her, Jupiter James paces with restless intensity, while Akari Tanaka leans against the lockers, sharpening her focus.
“This is it, Reina,” Jupiter says, her voice echoing off the tiled walls. “The Junior Heavyweight title. That gold belongs around the waist of a Crimson Lotus member. Sho Imai Jr. has had a good run, but he hasn’t faced the pressure we bring. He hasn’t faced the collective force of this unit.”
Akari nods, her expression cold. “We’ve scouted his matches. He’s vulnerable when the pace gets too high. When the referee’s back is turned, or when he’s focused on the crowd, Jupiter and I will be there to make sure he stays grounded. We’ll give you the opening you need to end this.”
Reina stops wrapping. She looks up, her gaze piercing through her teammates. The room goes silent as she stands, the tension shifting instantly.
“No,” Reina says, her voice low but unwavering.
Jupiter stops pacing. “What do you mean, ‘no’? We’re a team, Reina. We ensure the victory. That’s how the Lotus grows.”
“I’ve heard what the locker room says,” Reina counters, stepping into Jupiter’s space. “I’ve heard them say I only win because of the numbers. Tonight, it’s not just about the belt. It’s about respect. It’s about proving that Reina Kuroi is the most dangerous competitor in this division—man or woman—without anyone else’s help.”
She turns to Akari, who looks skeptical. “I want you both at ringside. I want you to watch. But you do not touch him. You do not distract the referee. I want to hear the bell ring, I want to see Imai’s shoulders pinned, and I want to know it was my hands that did it.”
Akari and Jupiter exchange a long, tense look. The silence stretches for several seconds until Jupiter finally exhales, a smirk playing on her lips.
“You’re putting a lot on the line, Reina,” Jupiter says. “But if that’s the fire you need… we’ll hold back. We’ll be there, but the ring is yours.”
“Reluctantly,” Akari adds, crossing her arms. “But don’t expect us to be happy if he starts mounting a comeback.”
“He won’t,” Reina states simply. She grabs her entrance jacket and throws it over her shoulders. “Tonight, Imai doesn’t just lose his title. He loses his dignity. Let’s go.”
“The confidence of Reina Kuroi is staggering,” Hiro Tanaka says as the camera returns to the arena. “But she’s taking a massive gamble by sidelining her greatest advantage.”
“It’s pride, Hiro,” Alex Mercer says. “Pride is either the fuel that makes a champion or the weight that sinks them. We’re about to find out which one it is for the Crimson Lotus.”
RSPW Junior Heavyweight Championship Match
Sho Imai Jr (c) vs. Reina Kuroi
The arena lights drop into a deep, bruising violet as the heavy bass of the Crimson Lotus theme rattles the bleachers. Reina Kuroi marches out, flanked by Jupiter James and Akari Tanaka. True to her word, Kuroi stops them at the top of the ramp, signaling for them to stay back. She walks to the ring alone, a kendo stick gripped in her hand which she discards at ringside, her eyes locked on the prize.
“She’s out here to prove a point, Alex,” Hiro Tanaka says, his voice hushed with anticipation. “No interference. No shortcuts. Just Reina Kuroi and her legacy.”
“It’s a mistake, Hiro. You don’t give away your numbers advantage against a champion like Imai,” Mercer retorts.
The mood shifts as “Ascension” blares through the speakers. Sho Imai Jr. enters to a deafening roar, the RSPW Junior Heavyweight Championship fastened tightly around his waist. He sprints down the ramp, slides into the ring, and leaps to the second turnbuckle, hoisting the gold high.
The ring announcer introduces the challengers, the tension thick enough to shatter. The referee holds the belt aloft—the ultimate prize in the Junior division—before the bell rings to signal the start of the main event.
They start with a high-speed sequence that leaves the crowd breathless. Imai ducks a roundhouse, Kuroi leaps over a sweep, and both land in a stalemate, staring each other down. The respect is there, but the hunger is greater. Kuroi gains the first real advantage, catching Imai with a stiff forearm that snaps his head back, following up with a series of “Lotus Strikes”—rapid-fire palm thrusts to the chest.
“Kuroi is suffocating him! She isn’t giving the champion room to breathe!” Tanaka shouts.
Kuroi whips Imai into the ropes and catches him with a bridging northern lights suplex. One! Two! Imai kicks out, barely getting a shoulder up.
Imai finds his opening when Kuroi goes for a diving crossbody. He catches her mid-air, showing surprising strength for his frame, and transitions into a spinning sit-out powerbomb! 1… 2… No! Kuroi rolls a shoulder. Imai doesn’t waste time; he heads to the top rope, looking for the “Imai-Sault,” but Kuroi recovers with frightening speed, crotching him on the turnbuckle.
“This is where the match changes,” Mercer notes. “The champion is vulnerable!”
Kuroi climbs up, looking for a superplex, but Imai fights her off with headbutts. He pushes her back, and she lands on her feet, but Imai immediately follows with a diving hurricanrana that sends Kuroi spiraling across the ring. The crowd is on their feet as Imai hits a triple-jump moonsault from the second rope! One! Two! KICK OUT!
The final ten minutes become a war of attrition. Both competitors are covered in sweat, their movements slowing but their strikes becoming more desperate. Kuroi locks in a modified dragon sleeper, pulling Imai into the center of the ring. The referee checks the arm—it drops once, it drops twice—but on the third, Imai finds a burst of adrenaline. He powers up, lifting Kuroi onto his shoulders and crashing down with a desperate Death Valley Driver.
“Both athletes are spent! Who has the will to finish this?” Tanaka screams.
Kuroi and Imai trade strikes from their knees, then their feet. Kuroi connects with a devastating head-kick that leaves Imai wobbling. She hits the ropes, looking for her finish, the “Crimson Eclipse,” but Imai ducks! He catches her from behind, hooks the arms—Snap Dragon Suplex! He keeps the bridge! 1… 2… KUROI POWERS OUT!
The fans are chanting “THIS IS WRESTLING” as the two warriors pull themselves up using the ropes. Kuroi lunges for one last strike, but Imai counters with a spinning heel kick that finds its mark. Seeing his window closing, Imai ascends the turnbuckle one last time. He takes a deep breath, looks at the ceiling of the Samurai Summit, and soars.
“IMAI-SAULT! HE NAILED IT!”
Imai collapses onto Kuroi, hooking both legs with everything he has left.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
“Your winner and STILL RSPW Junior Heavyweight Champion: Sho Imai Jr.!”
The referee hands the belt to a battered Imai, who can barely sit up. At ringside, Jupiter James and Akari Tanaka look ready to storm the ring, but Reina Kuroi, pushing herself up, waves them off. She stares at Imai for a long moment, a bead of blood trickling from her lip, before giving a singular, respectful nod.
“She didn’t win the gold, but she earned every bit of respect in this building tonight,” Tanaka says softly.
“Imai survives,” Mercer adds. “But the Junior Heavyweight division is on notice. That was a classic.”
The camera fades to black on Sho Imai Jr. holding his title high as the credits roll for Carnage 38.
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