Tomás Ferreira vs. Luong Chun - Before the Fall

[BlackAkuma]

Match Type: Humiliation
Victory Conditions: Victory can only be obtained by making an opponent submit due to humiliation.

***

Luong Chun stepped out onto the ramp with her attendant, Lee, close behind, surveying the packed crowd with arms folded. As always, she held a pose befitting royalty. Head held high, arms folded, chest proudly stuck out, even as the crowd jeered and booed and made their displeasure known. She ignored it, like so much water off a duck’s back. They were all idiots and fools, slobbering perverts waiting for their daily fix of depravity.

And yet, despite her better impulses, Luong had missed them.

She absolutely hated admitting that, but she was never one to lie to herself, and the truth could not have been more obvious. Luong had taken a sabbatical from LAW for a few months, traveling back home to South Korea, hoping to get away from the grime of Tokyo and enjoy the fruits of her homeland. That had turned out to be a fool’s errand. The country became embroiled in political nonsense almost as soon as she arrived, complicating her daily life with news and nonsense. It had been nonstop chaos, and only recently had things settled down so she wasn’t having a constant headache.

Compared to that mess, pro wrestling seemed like a simple escape. As silly as the sport could be at times, it was uncomplicated and only asked her to do what she was best at: fight. As much as she dearly, truly, honestly loved her home, she was happy to be back. She needed the stress relief.

As luck would have it, management was in a good position to accommodate her, needing someone for a humiliation match, which fit right into her tastes and preferences. She was more than happy to oblige.

She made sure to keep her face placid as she descended the ramp so that her pleasant mood wouldn’t be given away, keeping her regal aura intact as her

reverberated around the arena. She stopped at the end, giving Lee a moment to dust off the steps, then promptly made her way inside, not even acknowledging the referee on her way to the corner.

Luong leaned against the corner and cast her eyes towards the curtain, waiting for her opponent. She knew little of him beyond his - Tomas - but the details hardly mattered. Tonight, he would be her toy.

Kneel.

[GoingBananas]

The roar of the Tokyo crowd was deafening, but Tomás had long since learned to tune such noise out. The cheers, the jeers, the chants, the catcalls and hollers—they were all irrelevant. All that mattered now was the battle ahead. He had been in LAW long enough to understand the game being played, long enough to recognize when management was setting him up for failure. And tonight? Tonight was no different.

His opponent, Luong Chun, was someone he had heard plenty about. The so-called “High Kick Empress” had a reputation for her ruthless humiliation tactics, a legacy built on reducing her opponents to pitiful wrecks. In some ways, she reminded him too much of Blair Dame, a name that still burned in his mind. Blair had dismantled him with ease, exposed his vulnerabilities, and left him with a loss on his record. However, facesit notwithstanding, it was among the matches where he could hold his head up high.

And now, LAW had thrown him into another match that played directly into his weaknesses. Another towering, flexible striker who thrived on grinding her opponents into submission—not through pain, but through sheer, unbearable disgrace.

He could already imagine the smirks from the higher-ups, their disdain for male competitors all too clear. LAW had never been kind to him, never given him a real shot at proving himself on even ground. It was always some uphill battle, some humiliating stipulation, some scenario designed to make him look weak. And yet, he was still here. They hadn’t broken him yet.

As his theme music blared through the arena, Tomás stepped through the curtain, his hazel eyes fixed straight ahead, his expression unreadable. The lights reflected off his white hair as he made his way down the ramp, his every step measured, his focus locked in. He had long since stopped expecting a warm welcome; the crowd was indifferent at best, hostile at worst. The humiliation match stipulation had already poisoned their perception—either he was a willing participant in LAW’s brand of spectacle, or he was the poor fool who had wandered into a lion’s den. Neither option sat well with him.

He should have been home. He should have been in Portugal with his brothers. With a sua família, living the life that was stolen from him. But court-ordered exile was a cruel mistress, and reality was unyielding. LAW was all he had left, whether he liked it or not.

He reached the ring and rolled inside, rising to his feet with a calm, practiced ease. Across from him, Luong Chun leaned against the turnbuckle, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement, her regal stance exuding the effortless confidence of a woman who already believed she had won. Tomás knew that look well. It was the same look Blair Dame had given him before she tore him apart. The same look LAW management had every time they placed him in matches like these. His jaw clenched. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

With a deep breath, Tomás raised his fists and shadowboxed into the corner. The match hadn’t even begun, and already, he could feel the weight of expectations pressing down on him. But if they wanted him broken, they would have to work for it. This time, he would not fall so easily.