Victory Conditions: Victory by pinfall, submission, or knockout.
***
Lee Seong-ji was at the end of her tether.
Ever since she and her mistress came to Japan, they had suffered indignity after indignity, as LAW failed to meet their more than reasonable accommodations. First, they had failed to get her the window seating first class that she required, making her sit next to the aisle and suffer the indignity of having commoners and servants pass her by and move within her personal space. Then, when they arrived, there was no limousine service waiting for them - instead, LAW hired a driver and had them sitting in the back of his van, a cramp space that did not allow her mistress to spread her legs. The hotel they were brought to was subpar, only four-stars, and lacked all the necessary amenities - there was no masseuse on call, the television was only a measly 70’, and when time came for breakfast, it wasn’t brought to them. No, they had to go to the lobby and retrieve it themselves.
Or, rather, Lee did.
Regardless, it was all unacceptable. But now, with only moments before her debut match, they had to come to the final straw. Lee had left the comforts of South Korea along with her mistress, had risked everything in the endeavor, and they would no longer suffer indignities.
”This tea is tepid!”
She stood before the foolish stagehand who had served her this insulting cup of tea, with the inferior item tightly between her fingers. Lee held it up so the mousy woman could see the exact error. ”I gave your crew specific instructions. Before each match, Mistress Luong is to have a cup of green plum tea prepared for her. It is to be heated to precisely 83°C - no more, no less. These were simple orders.” She gave the inferior tea a sip. ”This is 75°C, at best. Did you not watch the instructional video I sent along? I made it quite clear that-”
The stagehand, who looked for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights, opened her mouth to speak what would have no doubt been idiotic words. However, Luong spoke up before she could issue a single embarrassing excuse. Her mistress had been busy stretching and preparing for the match ahead, paying them little heed - or so Lee had thought. She stood on one foot, with her other leg raised and stretch to the sky, showing off her perfect poise and balance. [“Lee, let it be.”] She graced the hallway with her angelic voice, doing justice to their native language. [“The tea is of little consequence. My match is about to begin.”]
With her head held high, Luong strode down the hall, not bothering to look the stagehand's way as she passed. Lee nodded and shoved the tea back to the imbecilic servant before hurrying after her mistress. ”I expect the tea to be ready when we return. Properly done this time.” She swung around just long enough to make eye contact with the stagehand through her thinly-rimmed glasses. ”83°C. Remember.”
Luong came out to the LAW crowd a few moments later, walking down the ramp in time with her . Lee kept up with her mistress as best she could, staying in her shadow, but her long strides made it difficult, and she’d fallen entirely behind by the time Luong made it to the bottom. Her mistress hopped onto the apron and quickly flipped over the ropes, gracing the ungrateful audience with her magnificent agility as she came down for an impossibly soft landing. With a hand on her hip, she strode to the center of the ring and turned towards the entrance, waiting for the music to die down and for her opponent for the night to come out.
Lee made her way up the steps behind her, slipped through the ropes, and came over to stand at her side. While Luong had made it clear that she was not to interfere, a few issues needed to be addressed before they could begin, and she was here to facilitate the process.
Luong
