Tyrone Gunder strained against Jubei's triangle and his saw his strain reflected in the red, ruby quartz vizor of the KnightMask Jubei was wearing. Then he saw stars begin to dot his vision. Jubei had angled his triangle just right, as to get all the power of his hamstrings and quadriceps behind the strangle hold. He was perfectly, surgically precise in his application of the pressure against the side of Tyrone's neck. He had to give it to him; it was one heckuva blood choke.

When you did a blood choke right, willpower, stubbornness all became largely irrelevant once the choke was sunk. Circulation got cut off and you just went to sleep. Of course, Jubei didn't want to put him to sleep. He had made that very clear.

What was it he'd told him? Oh yeah, that he was going to kill him on behalf of his friend, Jordan Green, a journalist for Ultimate Blackbelt training. He'd told him all about it when Tyrone woke up in his dojo or whatever the place was, staring up at Jubei dressed up in white gi pants and a sleeveless gi shirt--like some of the classical Japanese jujutsu guys used to wear, before the advent of judo--and wearing Tyrone's own mask, the KnightMask.

"They found Jordan in a dumpster, with traces of rat fur in his mouth. And witnesses said it was a man wearing a mask...a mask with a red vizor...a mask like yours...that did it. Doesn't leave us with too many suspects,does it? But I'm gonna give you something you didn't give Jordan...I'm gonna give you a chance, Tyrone. A chance to fight for your life. If I win, I'm gonna kill you. I lose, maybe I'll see my buddy Jordan sooner than I'd planned to."

Tyrone had tried to tell him it was all a misunderstanding--it must have been, he'd never even met a guy named Jordan Green--but of course, that worked out about as well as it ever does.

It had all started back at the Lansing mall, where Tyrone had found himself embroiled in a different kind of struggle before the Barnes and Noble magazine shelves. He'd heard from vaguely reliable sources (Ratboy) that the month's WOMEN'S FITNESS: FOR LADIES ONLY featured sections on the training regimens of Talia Madison, Velvet Sky and more importantly, Sarah St. James, complete with clear, easy to follow, vivid, step-by-step illustrations.

Now, it'd be one thing if the feature appeared in IRON MAN, FLEX, MUSCLE MAG, Pro Wrestling Illustrated, etc., one of the magazines he could readily be seen reading in public. Likewise if the journal in question had been stocked in the same general section as such other acceptable publications. Then he easily could've simply placed WOMEN'S FITNESS: FOR WOMEN ONLY in between the pages of a FLEX, a PWI, a RING or what have you. As it stood, the issue in question was several shelves down surrounded by a veritable sea of women's fashion, haircare and fitness magazines.

And the shelf it was on...was pink.

Steeling himself to the task, he marched towards the pink shelf. There had just one woman browsing the section, knelt over one of the fitness magazines. He couldn't make out her face, but the silky, shiny black hair ran over her shoulders and down the back of her jean jacket would render any features framed within in it beautiful. He'd hope she'd be engrossed enough in whatever she was reading to not even notice him.

"OHMYGOSH! KnightMaaask! You are totally KnightMask, right? Riiiight? Can you please, pleeeeease put on your mask so that I can take a picture with you?"

The owner of the long silken tresses was now looking up at him with large, smiling eyes...and a face that was more than beautiful on its own terms. Heck, she could probably have snakes growing out of the top of her head and still do just fine.

"My name is Tomiko Koga, it means--"

"Hemp child, right?"

"Whaaa--wooooow! You know? Naniiii! How do you know?"

"Years and years and years of puroresu viewing..."

"Ah, hai! So desuneeee, like Nagata?"

She imitated Nagata's salute, giggling and off-balance as she did so. Suddenly Tyrone's big, brown calloused was taken in her own tiny, soft white one and she was pulling him away.

"Come, come, you have to meet my brother...he's a big fan too!"

Somehow, she'd poisoned him...it was probably the hamburger he'd eaten...somehow she must've slipped something into it. Whatever the case, he definitely did meet her brother, but as far as he could tell, Jubei was NOT a fan.

Tyrone had just begun to congratulate himself on his ability to endure the blood choke when he promptly passed out.




Peering out from underneath all the tons of rocks and rubble, KnightMask watched the water slowly, steadily fill up the cavern. In no time, the water level would rise up high enough to drown him.

"I've got to get out...somehow...I've got to get out from underneath this..."

KnightMask fought to rise up from underneath the rubble that pinned him down, strained with all the strength he could muster.

"Its no use...I'm...too exhausted..."

KnightMask dropped his head and relaxed his body beneath the rocks that had him pinned down. He saw her face, her haunting features and her crystalline eyes. The eyes that had seared him to the core of his soul. All his muscles tensed, rallied together by his fading will. He pushed harder than he ever had before.



She had called him a monster and he had made a vow to prove her wrong.

"No...no...! I can't give up...she....needs me...if...if I surrender now...then she's right...I am a monster...a weak-willed monster that doesn't deserve to live..."

He continued to push...the fire inside his muscles were causing him a far greater pain than the boulders atop him.



"...if I fail now...then I...I deserve her hate..."



Again KnightMask surged to lift the rumble off him. And again, nothing budged. The eyes continued to stare into him, burning him. They begged him and they damned him, cursed him and cried out to him. All the while, the water continued to trickle in.



The eyes were burned away his field of vision, till all he could see before him was a white light. His muscles went numb, he couldn't even feel the gigantic boulder crushing him down. And yet...he could hear...a voice...faintly at first...then louder, commanding him...

"Before you're in the water...can't swim away...here's a way to save you...you gotta PUSH!"

The voice sounded weak and diseased, the voicing of a man in pain, a dying man...but the voice sang on. Rather than dying out, it became louder.

"PUSH!"


What was wrong with him? So his muscles were fatigued, so what? God had given him more than simply muscles, he'd given him a soul. A soul that would not shirk meekly away from the limitations of pain and fatigue. A soul that would not bow or be conquered!

With one final push, KnightMask heaved against the boulders, a primal, ancient growl rushing up from his diaphragm and blasting forth from his mouth.





There he was, awake, screaming as he thrust Jubei high up into air, the master martial artists' legs still wrapped around him, still maintaining the triangle choke even has Tyrone powerbombed Jubei against the ground with such force that he smashed through the very floor of the dojo and he and Jubei came crashing down to the granite floor of the basement below.

Tyrone staggered to his feet, swaying like a drunk. Jubei stood across from him, and again Tyrone saw his face in the vizor of the KnightMask that Jubei had stolen from him. Even with the mask on, Jubei's smirking confidence was more than apparent as he swaggered towards Tyrone.

"Nice rally, but between the poison my sister slipped you and the ass-kicking you've been getting...you're finished. Say goodbye, Tyrone."

Jubei charged towards him and launched a middle kick. Tyrone somersaulted over the kick, snatching the KnightMask off Jubei's head as he sailed through the air. The poison, the beating, the fall through the floor...Jubei might have been right. It might have been too much for Tyrone Gunder.

But for KnightMask? Not even close, he thought.

Jubei came at him again, but this time KnightMask leapt--really flew--to meet him, taking him down with a flying scissor and immediately twisting him into...

"The Gordian leg-knot...? B-b-but...only the Ashikan Judans, Fujiwara Yoshiaki, Funaki Masakatsu, Hanai Takefumi and Imanari Masakazu know the Gordian leg-knot...tell me...are you...a student of...?"

"I guess all the years of downloading their matches off the internet finally paid off, kid."

"Pah!"

Jubei twists, turns and rolls, all in vain. His legs are trapped. KnightMask tucks Jubei's foot underneath his armpit, turns the blade of his wrist into the end of his Achilles tendon, locks his hands together and then rolls his shoulder back on Jubei's captive foot.

Jubei grunts in pain, but he does not tap, true to the samurai-style top-knotch arrangement of his hair.

KnightMask releases the hold and assumes a low wrestling stance. Jubei kicks up and scores with a palm strike so hard it turns KnightMask completely around. The masked grappler back-flips into his opponent before he can press his advantage, landing right into a double knee-bar. They fall to the ground, as KnightMask arches his back and Jubei's knees reach the limit of their extension.

Again, KnightMask lets him up. Taking in a breath, Jubei lashes out with a high-kick to the head. KnightMask drops to the ground, spinning on his shoulder right into Jubei's leg, where he immediately latches on...the Gordian leg-knot. Jubei hesitates for a moment...the taps his submission.

"So....I guess...I was wrong...you're no killer...and I guess....I ruined your day for nothing...but..."

Jubei smirks.

"Be honest, bro...there's nothing you'd rather be doing! This is AWESOME. You can complain all you want, but the fact is this is shaping up to be one heckuva roll!"

KnightMask shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.

"Yeah...I can't lie. You're right kid, this was one heckuva work-out."

"Oh, its gonna get better...cause now I'm gonna turn it up!"

"Hey man, you want some music? I always like rolling to music," Jubei asks.

"Yeah, yeah, me too. You know what I'm the mood for? Some Ronnie James Dio, dude."

"Yeah, you know...me too, man. Me too."