Blonde Blazer had begun her LAW career with a victory, bringing her debut to a successful close. Now, she stood in the gorilla position, waiting for the signal to make her entrance. Waiting, however, did not mean standing still. She repeatedly leaned forward as though she might burst through the curtain at any second, only to pull herself back again. The toe of her boot tapped restlessly against the floor, making her eagerness painfully obvious to everyone nearby. “Is it time...?” A staff member hurriedly waved both hands. “Ahh... not yet?”
Blazer froze in the very posture she had been about to sprint from, then straightened herself with an awkward smile. Her attempt at patience lasted only a few seconds. Her eyes remained fixed on the curtain, and the steady tapping of her boot never truly stopped. At last, the staff member pointed forward. That was the signal. Blonde Blazer immediately charged through the curtain and onto the stage!
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As she continued toward the ring, Blazer gradually realized that something felt different. The cheers directed toward her were unmistakably louder than they had been during her first match. There were more signs bearing her name and symbol scattered throughout the crowd as well. Some had “GO, BLAZER!” written across them in uneven lettering, while others featured hand-drawn versions of her heroic pose. Each one she noticed made her smile grow a little wider. They were proof that she could become someone’s hero here too. Her heart began to pound with excitement.
Blazer climbed onto the apron with a powerful stride and slipped between the ropes. Without slowing down, she raced toward the opposite corner and quickly climbed onto the turnbuckle. She brought both hands to her lips, turning her body from left to right as she blew kisses across the cheering audience, and the crowd answered with an even louder roar. Blazer hopped down from the turnbuckle and began loosening herself up, rolling her shoulders and stretching her legs as she paced around the ring. Before long, her gaze settled on the still-empty entranceway.
The name of her opponent tonight was Spectre. From what Blazer had heard, Spectre was a very, very notorious villain. And that was everything Blonde Blazer knew about her. Studying an opponent’s previous matches, analyzing their techniques, and constructing a detailed strategy were all thoroughly opposed to Blazer’s natural approach. She was no meticulous tactician. She had always preferred to confront whatever stood before her head-on, solving most problems with sufficient courage and overwhelming strength.
Of course, she had heard that Spectre was not merely a wrestler pretending to be a villain. There were rumors of crimes, dangerous incidents, and genuine acts of terror attached to her name. By every account, Spectre was the real thing. Yet instead of frightening Blazer, that knowledge only made her more excited. This was precisely the kind of confrontation she had dreamed about for years. A brightly shining hero against a villain feared by everyone. Who could have expected such a perfect matchup to arrive in only her second match? Rather than worrying about how dangerous Spectre might be, Blazer found herself imagining how spectacular it would be to defeat a true villain and give the audience a moment they would never forget.
The possibility that her opponent might be exceptionally strong did not seem to concern her either. To this endlessly optimistic woman, a villain’s reputation was not a warning. It merely meant the story would become even greater once she brought them down. Blonde Blazer planted both fists against her hips and stared proudly toward the entranceway, a confident smile spread across her face. All that remained was for the villain to appear.