DISCLAIMER: The Taimanin series belongs to Black Lilith.

Author's Note: Sorry I've been busy for the past month, since I'm kinda focused on my Action Taimanin and Real Racing 3 playthroughs.

Chapter 10: Smell of the Game, Act I

Five years ago...

The air crackled with excitement as a Fundacion de Extremo Lucha Libre pay-per-view event reached its climax. The main event, a Mexican Deathmatch for the FELL World Championship, pitted the Dutchman Adonis van der Michaelis against Filipino sensation Arturo Pendragon Magallanes. The stakes were high, and the tension was palpable.

The ring was transformed into a battlefield, with a ladder positioned at its center, leading up to the coveted championship belt suspended high above. The rules were simple yet brutal: no disqualifications, weapons allowed, and a 30-minute time limit to retrieve the gold.

Adonis and Arturo's rivalry had been brewing for months, ever since Arturo had dethroned Adonis in a previous match. Their feud had escalated from heated verbal exchanges to full-blown backstage brawls, culminating in this ultimate test of will and skill.

As the bell rang, both men exploded into action. Adonis launched himself at Arturo with a flying clothesline. Arturo, nicknamed "The Filipino Phantom," countered with a swift duck and a devastating leg sweep.

The crowd roared as the two warriors traded blows, each impact echoing through the arena. Adonis's technical prowess clashed with Arturo's raw power, creating a spectacle that had the audience on the edge of their seats.

Midway through the match, Arturo introduced a steel chair into the fray. The metallic clang of flesh meeting steel sent shivers through the spectators. Adonis, not to be outdone, retaliated with a kendo stick he'd pulled from under the ring.

As the clock ticked down, both men, battered and bloodied, began their ascent up the ladder. The championship belt dangled tantalizingly close, a golden promise of glory and validation.

With mere minutes left, Adonis and Arturo found themselves precariously balanced atop the ladder, trading punches and elbows. The crowd held its collective breath, sensing the impending climax.

In a split-second decision that would haunt him for years to come, Adonis made his move. He grabbed Arturo, intending to throw him off the ladder. But as he did so, he lost his own balance. The two men plummeted towards the canvas in a tangle of limbs.

Adonis managed to twist in mid-air, landing face-down on the mat with a heavy thud. But Arturo wasn't so fortunate. The sickening crunch of his neck striking the edge of the ring was lost in the cacophony of the crowd's reaction.

Dazed but determined, Adonis staggered to his feet. The clock was ticking. With a final burst of energy, he scaled the ladder once more and snatched the belt, securing his second world championship.

As the referee raised his hand in victory, Adonis's triumphant grin faded. The usual post-match roar of the crowd had been replaced by an eerie silence. He turned to see officials crowding around Arturo's motionless form.

"Arturo...?" Adonis called out, his voice tinged with concern. When no response came, panic set in. "Arturo...?! C'mon man, this isn't funny! Wake up! Wake up!"

Adonis scrambled down from the ring, his newly won championship forgotten. "Somebody call an EMT! Hurry up!" he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. He knelt beside his fallen rival, grasping Arturo's hand. "C'mon man, stay with me! Don't die on me man. Not like this!"

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Paramedics rushed in, loading Arturo onto a stretcher and into a waiting ambulance. Without hesitation, Adonis climbed in after them, his heart pounding with fear and guilt.

At the hospital, time seemed to stand still. Adonis paced the waiting room, still in his ring gear, the championship belt clutched forgotten in his hands. When the doctor finally emerged, the grim expression on his face said it all.

Arturo Pendragon Magallanes was pronounced dead on arrival. The cause: a catastrophic neck injury that had severed his spinal cord and shut down his entire nervous system.

As the reality of the situation sank in, Adonis collapsed into a chair, the weight of his actions crushing down upon him. In pursuit of glory, he had inadvertently taken a life. The championship belt in his hands, once a symbol of triumph, now felt like a cursed artifact, forever tainted by tragedy.

Behind the scenes, the FELL management handled the aftermath of the tragic incident with care and responsibility. No charges were pressed against Adonis by Arturo's family, as the promotion emphasized that there was no malicious intent. Instead, FELL took full responsibility for the accident, shielding Adonis from legal repercussions and demonstrating their commitment to their wrestlers' well-being.

The week following the incident was a somber one for the wrestling community. Adonis, still grappling with the weight of what had happened, received an invitation to Arturo's funeral in Batangas City, Philippines. The coastal city, known for its beautiful beaches and rich history, now bore a heavy atmosphere as it prepared to lay one of its sons to rest.

Upon arriving in Batangas, Adonis was struck by the outpouring of love and support from the local community. Arturo's impact clearly extended far beyond the wrestling ring. The funeral procession wound through the city streets, lined with mourners holding candles and photos of their fallen hero.

At the funeral, Adonis approached Arturo's family with a heavy heart. He offered his deepest condolences, his words barely audible as he fought back tears. The family, despite their grief, showed remarkable grace. They embraced Adonis, assuring him that they held no ill will towards him. This gesture of forgiveness and understanding moved Adonis deeply, adding another layer to his complex emotions.

Out of profound respect for his fallen colleague and friend, Adonis volunteered to be one of the pallbearers. As he helped carry Arturo's coffin to its final resting place in the public cemetery, the weight of the moment was palpable. The sound of sniffles and soft sobs filled the air as Arturo was lowered into the ground, a final farewell to a beloved son, friend, and wrestler.

Five days after the funeral, Adonis returned to Mexico for a live event. The atmosphere in the arena was electric yet somber, a mix of excitement for the return of wrestling and shared grief over the loss of Arturo. As Adonis made his way to the ring, the crowd's reaction was a mix of cheers and respectful silence.

Standing in the center of the ring, surrounded by fellow wrestlers both inside and outside the ropes, Adonis prepared to deliver what would be the most emotionally charged promo of his career. The usual bravado and showmanship were gone, replaced by raw, genuine emotion.

"I never thought that our fated battle would end in one of the darkest tragedies in the history of professional wrestling since the death of Owen Hart," Adonis began, his voice wavering slightly. "The simple fact that we lost one of our brothers, a family member of this industry, hurts the most. Not just for myself, but for everyone here performing in this ring and for the people around the world watching."

He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The arena was silent, every eye fixed on the normally confident wrestler who now stood vulnerable before them.

"Arturo... Arturo wasn't just my rival, but a friend, a brother. Someone who reached out to others when they were at their lowest," Adonis continued, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He died doing what he loved, and he knew the risks of what it means to perform and travel. This is what we do because we are luchadores."

Adonis looked around the arena, making eye contact with fans and fellow wrestlers alike. "We gather here to pay tribute to this brilliant man's life and career. To me, he was like the Lucha Libre equivalent of Ayrton Senna, and I was his Alain Prost. An iconic rivalry that culminated in mutual respect. And like Senna, the Big Guy upstairs had other plans..."

His voice cracked slightly, and he took another moment to compose himself. "Just know one thing, once everybody walks outside tonight and looks up into the sky, the brightest star will be Arturo Pendragon Magallanes."

With a deep breath, Adonis straightened his shoulders, his next words carrying the weight of a significant decision. "I, Adonis van der Michaelis, the current reigning, defending FELL World Heavyweight Champion, hereby relinquish my championship in respect for Arturo's passing. With Arturo gone, a part of me also died with him. I will reclaim that crown one day, not just for myself, but I will dedicate it to Arturo's memory."

The crowd gasped at this announcement, but Adonis wasn't finished. "All of us here will continue to take risks and perform for all of you. Arturo, if you're watching us from up there, we will dedicate this night to you. Hanggang sa muli nating pagkita, pare."

As Adonis finished speaking, the arena erupted in chants of Arturo's name. The sound was deafening, a powerful tribute to the fallen wrestler. Tears flowed freely among the audience, the wrestlers, and even the staff backstage. The raw emotion of the moment was overwhelming.

With a heavy heart, Adonis placed the world title belt in the center of the ring, next to a large portrait of Arturo. The image showed Arturo in his prime, a beaming smile on his face, embodying the joy and passion he brought to the sport.

As Adonis stepped back, a solemn hush fell over the arena. The unmistakable sound of a bell tolling broke the silence. One... two... three... The ten-bell salute, a time-honored tradition in wrestling to pay respect to the fallen, echoed through the arena. Each toll of the bell seemed to resonate with the heartbeat of every person present, a final, poignant farewell to Arturo.

Suddenly, the scene shifted back to the present day, jarring Adonis from his vivid recollection. The warm, dimly lit living room of Ambrose's villa here in Maesaki City came into focus, a stark contrast to the somber memories that had engulfed him moments ago.

Adonis felt a tickling sensation on his nose, rousing him fully from his daydream. He blinked, coming face to face with a slender, pointed tail hovering just inches from his face. The tail belonged to Liscia, one of Ambrose's succubus sisters. Standing beside her was Alv, her younger sibling, both wearing mischievous grins.

"Hey, what the fuck?!" Adonis exclaimed, jerking back in surprise. He rubbed his nose, the phantom tickle still lingering.

Liscia giggled, retracting her tail with a flourish. "How long have you been sleeping, Donnie? It's time for dinner!" Her voice was musical, tinged with a hint of playful sarcasm.

The aroma of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air, rich and inviting. Wolfgang emerged from the kitchen, still wearing an apron that seemed comically small on his muscular frame. A few specks of flour dusted his stubble, giving him an endearingly domestic appearance that contrasted sharply with his usual imposing presence.

"Easy on the tail, kiddo," Wolfgang chided gently, his deep voice rumbling with amusement. He glanced between the two succubi and Adonis, sensing the lingering tension in the air. "You two get to the kitchen. Donnie and I need some private conversation for a second."

Alv and Liscia exchanged a knowing look before scampering off to the kitchen, their laughter echoing down the hallway. The sudden silence that fell over the living room was heavy with unspoken words.

Wolfgang settled into the armchair across from Adonis, his expression softening with concern. "Something wrong, man? What do you want to talk about?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Adonis sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. The weight of his memories pressed down on him, making his shoulders slump. "The day Arturo died, a part of me died with him," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Those were the exact words I said in that promo after the tragedy five years ago. And you know what? They're still true today."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I was never able to replicate the two world title victories I had back in Mexico, let alone tag team and cruiserweight gold. It's like... like I lost my edge that day. The fact I decided to move here to Japan feels like a new change of pace. I need to properly reboot my gimmick, you know?"

Wolfgang nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving Adonis's face. "Well, you managed to survive a battle with Gigante. That's saying something," he offered, a hint of pride in his voice.

Adonis managed a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I guess. But everywhere I go, I always think of Arturo. If he was still alive, he could be wrestling here in Japan with me. That incident..." he trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "It made me think I did something I can't take back."

The young wrestler's words hung in the air, heavy with regret and unresolved grief. Wolfgang leaned back in his chair, considering his next words carefully. He knew all too well the weight of guilt and the lingering effects of trauma.

Wolfgang leaned forward, his eyes meeting Adonis's with a mixture of concern and understanding. He ran a hand through his beard, brushing away the flour that still clung to it, before speaking.

"Donnie," Wolfgang began, his voice gentle but firm, "what happened with Arturo was an accident gone wrong which is something you have no control of. Wrestling, like any contact sport, comes with risks. Arturo knew that, just like you do."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "You know, it reminds me of a movie - Rocky IV. Have you seen it?"

Adonis nodded, curious about where Wolfgang was going with this.

"Apollo Creed bit off more than he could chew and died in the ring after taking a brutal beating from Ivan Drago," Wolfgang explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "It's fiction, sure, but it reflects a harsh reality in our world. Gladiators like you and me, we have to fight like our lives depend on it because, in a way, they do."

Wolfgang shifted in his seat, leaning closer to Adonis. "In today's combat sports, one wrong move can shorten careers or worse, lead to death. It's a risk we all take when we step into that ring or octagon."

He placed a hand on Adonis's shoulder, his touch conveying both comfort and a sobering reality. "Even though you're a high-ranking demon, you need to be careful with your body. Over time, your bones and muscles will tear themselves from taking too much punishment. Demon or not, we're far from invincible."

Wolfgang's eyes took on a distant look, as if recalling his own experiences. "I've been through all sorts of brutal battles back in my prime. Sure, I recovered from injuries much earlier and faster than an average human. But you know what? I still learned to be cautious of my own body."

He squeezed Adonis's shoulder gently. "It's not just about winning or losing, Donnie. It's about living to fight another day. Arturo's passing was a tragedy, but it doesn't mean you should stop pushing forward. He wouldn't want that for you."

Adonis listened intently, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Wolfgang's words were hitting home, stirring up a mix of emotions he had been trying to suppress for years.

"But how do I move forward?" Adonis asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How do I honor Arturo's memory without letting it hold me back?"

Wolfgang smiled softly, a rare expression on his usually stern face. "You do it by being the best damn wrestler you can be. By pushing your limits safely, by inspiring others, by living the dream you both shared. That's how you honor him, Donnie. That's how you keep his spirit alive in the ring."

Adonis looked up at Wolfgang, his eyes shimmering with a mix of gratitude and lingering sadness. The young wrestler's voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, "Thanks... master. It feels like I've never forgotten everything you taught me." He paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You might be one of the scariest guys in the MMA circuit, and that's one good reason some guys in the demon realm are scared shitless about you. But deep down, you're the closest thing I have to a Mr. Miyagi."

Wolfgang's eyebrows raised slightly at the comparison, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. Adonis continued, his voice growing softer, "I'm happy that you and Uncle Ambrose are my family I can turn to after my father died."

The hybrid demon's expression softened, the usual hardness in his features melting away. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze steady and warm. "Donnie," he said, his deep voice gentle but firm, "Remember this one thing: 'It's okay to never be okay.' If you want to get something off your chest, your uncle and I are here. Crying your eyes out doesn't make you less of a man. Don't be afraid to reach out to others who are struggling with hardships in life."

The mentor and protégé sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. The aroma of dinner wafted in from the kitchen, a reminder of life continuing on despite past tragedies.

"Now," Wolfgang said, standing up and adjusting his too-small apron, "let's go eat. Food's getting cold, and those two succubi will eat everything if we don't hurry."

Days later, Adonis found himself immersed in a rigorous training regimen. The sun had barely risen when he stepped into the local gym, the familiar scent of sweat and determination filling his nostrils. He started with his solitary workout, pushing his body to its limits with each rep, each set. The weights clanged, echoing through the near-empty gym as Adonis focused on honing his strength and agility.

As the day progressed, Adonis transitioned to backyard wrestling with TJ, a practice that brought back nostalgic memories of his youth. The makeshift ring in TJ's backyard was a far cry from the professional setups he was used to, but it held a certain charm. The grass beneath their feet, the occasional curious neighbor peeking over the fence - it all reminded Adonis of simpler times, before the weight of fame and tragedy had settled on his shoulders.

"Come on, uce! Show me what you've got!" TJ shouted, circling Adonis with a grin.

Adonis smirked, falling into a defensive stance. "Don't get cocky, Master TJ. I've picked up a few new tricks in Mexico."

They grappled, their movements a blend of raw power and calculated technique. Adonis found himself employing moves inspired by his new Top Gun-esque high flyer gimmick, his body twisting and turning in mid-air as he executed complex maneuvers. Each move was a nod to the action movies he'd watched growing up, reimagined for the wrestling ring.

As the sun began to set, Adonis and TJ sat on the porch steps, cooling down after their intense session. TJ passed Adonis a bottle of water, studying his friend's face with concern.

"You seem to be keeping up your pace, uce," TJ remarked, taking a swig from his own bottle. "By the way, is something bothering you? Ever since you and Wolffy ironed out your issues, you still kept that same scowl."

Adonis sighed, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "Nah, it's just survivor's guilt from five years ago," he admitted. "Moving on from Arturo's passing left a hole in my heart. Took me an entire year to heal, and then Lulu approached me."

As he spoke, memories flooded back. Adonis remembered teaming up with Lulu Manhattan, a fellow Incubus who shared Ambrose's mastery of the Queen Kung-Fu fighting style. Lulu had been a breath of fresh air in Adonis's life, appreciating not just his wrestling skills but also his androgynous appearance.

"Lulu and I, we made quite a team," Adonis mused, a small smile playing on his lips. "Won the tag team championships back in Mexico. And then I snagged the cruiserweight title. First time I ever held two belts at once."

TJ nodded, impressed. "You sure come a long way, Donnie," he said, his voice filled with pride. "A real man knows how to go through and sort out their shit. Wolffy feels the same thing. Because of the old lady Taimanin he met in the past, he finally found a reason to keep fighting and living. Even though she's already gone, her legacy lived on with her daughter."

Adonis listened intently as TJ explained Wolfgang's connection to Rin's mother, Setsuna. It was a story of closure, of finding purpose in an immortal life. As an accomplished wrestler, Adonis found himself resonating with the need for purpose.

"You know, master," Adonis said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I've been thinking a lot about purpose lately. I've overheard bits and pieces about Master Wolffy's work with the Taimanins. It's got me wondering... maybe there's more I could be doing. More than just wrestling, you know?"

TJ raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What are you thinking, uce?"

Adonis stood up, pacing the porch as he spoke. "I love wrestling, don't get me wrong. But sometimes I feel like I'm just living in master's shadow. I want to find my own reason to fight, my own path to make a difference."

He paused, looking out at the setting sun. "Maybe... maybe I could use my skills to help people. Like Master Wolffy does with the Taimanins. I'm not saying I want to be a superhero or anything, but... I don't know. There's got to be a way to use what I've learned in the ring to do some good in the world."

TJ nodded thoughtfully. "That's heavy stuff, Donnie. But if anyone can figure it out uce, it's you. You've got a good heart, and that's half the battle right there."

TJ leaned back, a mischievous grin playing on his face. "By the way, uce, didn't you tell me you had a one-night stand with that blonde Taimanin five years ago?"

Adonis's eyes widened, and he nearly choked on his water. He coughed, trying to regain his composure. "Yeah, I did," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Also, I'm an incubus. I haven't forgotten the fact that sex has something to do with my powers!" He ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Right now, it would be awkward to bring up this shit."

Suddenly, Adonis's gaze darted to the side, as if breaking the fourth wall. With a hint of desperation in his voice, he said, "Hey, mind if we just skip to the next scene?"

As if by magic, the scene abruptly shifted. The tranquil backyard faded away, replaced by the gritty underbelly of Yomihara, a hidden underground city located 300 meters below Tokyo.

Yomihara stretched out for 5 kilometers in both length and width, carved into the bedrock itself. Known infamously as one of "Hell's Cities," it was a lawless metropolis teeming with criminal humans and demons alike. The city served as a bridge between the human and demon realms, thanks to the demonic gates scattered throughout its depths.

Entering Yomihara was no easy feat. Conventional means were non-existent, save for special tunnel networks created by an ancient clan and a handful of underground elevators. Demons with particular magical abilities could teleport directly into the city, bypassing its physical defenses.

For years, Yomihara had been a place where crime, sex, and violence reigned supreme. It made even the rough areas of Amidahara, Tokyo Kingdom and Senzaki seem tame in comparison. However, the landscape had shifted dramatically after the deaths of Muneichi and Toshiji Yazaki. Their infamous brothel, Under Eden, once a hub of prostitution and human trafficking, had fallen into the hands of the Nichts Syndicate, a neo-Nazi human supremacist group. The former den of vice had been transformed into something far more sinister: a concentration camp where Nazis captured and exterminated demons.

In the heart of this chaotic underground world, a clandestine meeting was taking place. Shizuru's bar, usually a bustling hive of activity, was eerily quiet. The door was firmly locked, transforming the space into an impromptu war room.

Inside, a group had gathered: Wolfgang, his face set in grim determination; Rin, her eyes alert and focused; Adonis, looking slightly out of place but no less determined; and Ambrose with his siblings, their presence adding an air of gravity to the proceedings. Shizuru stood behind the bar, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a serious frown.

"It seems that the Nichts are serious about cleansing Yomihara of demons," Shizuru explained, her voice low and urgent. "Only they're taking it a bit too far."

Wolfgang's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "How they managed to find this city is a riddle of the ages," he growled. "I have a bad feeling there's somebody in Nomad going turncoat."

Adonis leaned forward, his wrestling persona momentarily forgotten in the face of this grave situation. "You're implying there's a traitor in Nomad? Did you warn your father about this?"

Wolfgang let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "I did, mate. But you know the kind of person Edwin fucking Black is. Even I agree with Astaroth that he's too much of a stubborn old prick." He paused, his eyes surveying the room. "Normally, this shithole used to be full of energy - sex, street fights, and bar brawling. Now?" He gestured vaguely. "You see random humans in swastika bands and saluting with a straight arm. As if Elon Musk's own salute wasn't fucked up enough."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on all of them. Then, Adonis stood up, his fists clenched at his sides. "I'll suplex a Nazi when I see one!" he declared, his voice filled with righteous anger.

The others looked at him, a mix of surprise and admiration on their faces. Rin smiled slightly, appreciating the young wrestler's enthusiasm. "It might come to that," she said softly. "But we need a plan. We can't just rush in there, guns blazing... or suplexes flying."

Wolfgang nodded, his tactical mind already whirring. "She's right," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "This ain't gonna be a simple smash and grab. We need time, effort, and solid intel." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his eyes. "And persuading the locals to form a resistance? That's gonna be like pulling teeth from a dragon. These Nazi bastards have got 'em scared shitless."

He leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "And let's not forget, Nomad ain't exactly gonna be jumping to play nice with the Taimanins. Not after that stunt Momochi pulled, baiting my old man into coughing up those drugs back in Tokyo Kingdom." A hint of bitterness crept into his voice at the mention of his father.

The room fell into a tense silence, each person lost in their own thoughts. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on them all. It was Shizuru who broke the quiet, her voice cutting through the gloom like a ray of sunshine.

"Oh, that's right," she said, turning to Adonis with a spark of interest in her eyes. "Adonis, didn't you apply here for a job?"

Adonis straightened up, grateful for the change in topic. "Yeah, I did," he replied, a hint of enthusiasm creeping into his voice. "My wrestling schedule's pretty manageable, actually. I've got bookings mostly on Fridays for live and house shows, and weekends for pay-per-view events. So I'm almost available every day during the week."

He leaned forward, his eyes bright with determination. "I was thinking maybe I could do some security work. You know, like a bouncer or something."

Shizuru's face lit up, a smile spreading across her features. "That's a great idea! " she exclaimed, her voice musical with excitement. "I haven't forgotten the way you fight from five years ago. You were quite impressive, even back then."

Wolfgang raised an eyebrow, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "You know, that's not half bad, mate," he said, nodding slowly. "Having you around as security could be useful. Not just for the bar, but for our... other activities too."

Rin chimed in, her tactical mind already at work. "It could provide good cover," she mused. "A new face in town, just looking for work. It might help us gather information without raising suspicion."

Adonis grinned, feeling a surge of purpose. This was exactly what he'd been looking for - a way to use his skills beyond the wrestling ring, to make a real difference. "I'm in," he said firmly. "Whatever you need, I'm ready to help."

After the meeting, Shizuru remained behind in her bar, a determined look in her eyes. She knew the importance of keeping her business running smoothly while secretly gathering intel from the locals. The weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders as she wiped down the bar, her ears always open for any useful information.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group ventured out to scout the city. Rin had opted for casual clothing instead of her Taimanin suit, hoping to blend in and avoid drawing unwanted attention. As they walked through the gritty streets of Yomihara, the oppressive atmosphere of the underground city pressed down on them.

Wolfgang, however, seemed almost at home in this den of vice. His imposing figure and confident stride spoke volumes of his familiarity with such environments. Even during his dominant MMA career, he had thrived on the raw energy of street fights and bar brawls. The word 'dominant' barely did justice to Wolfgang's presence; his monstrous strength and intimidating stature were enough to make lesser demons cower in fear, as if they were facing a real-life Superman.

As they made their way through the dimly lit streets, the group's attention was suddenly drawn to a familiar face. Standing before them was a flamboyant figure that the three demon boys immediately recognized.

"Well, well. If it isn't the legend himself and my family," drawled a voice dripping with sarcasm. The speaker was an effeminate man who appeared even younger than Ambrose. His appearance was a riot of color and style, with makeup accentuating his delicate features and an outlandish hairstyle in a bold CMYK color pattern. He wore leather harnesses that hugged his sleek figure, complemented by jester-like leggings and footwear that seemed both playful and dangerous.

Adonis and Ambrose's eyes widened in recognition, and they exclaimed in unison, "Morrigan?!"

Liscia's gaze darted to the newcomer, her voice filled with surprise and a hint of apprehension. "Onii-chan?!"

Wolfgang's eyes narrowed, his voice a low growl. "What the fuck is Teutates' lapdog doing here in Yomihara of all places?"

Morrigan's lips curled into a smirk. "What else, simpleton. I was just coming here to say hi-" He paused mid-sentence, his gaze locking onto Adonis. A cruel glint appeared in his eyes as he continued, "I almost forgot about you. One of Lord Kamadeva's children who decided to trade the throne for his own freedom. Compared to Wolffy, you're just a second-rate copy of him who wasted his talent on fake wrestling!"

The air crackled with tension at Morrigan's words. Calling wrestling fake to a wrestler's face was a massive red flag, and Morrigan knew exactly which buttons to push. Adonis's jaw clenched, his muscles tensing as he stepped forward, coming face-to-face with the other incubus.

Ambrose, ever the peacemaker, tried to intervene. "Come on, guys, let's not do this here," he pleaded, his voice tinged with worry. But his words fell on deaf ears as Morrigan, with a lightning-quick movement, headbutted Adonis.

The sudden attack caught Adonis off guard, and he stumbled back, momentarily dazed. The world spun around him for a second, but he quickly shook it off, his fighting instincts kicking in. His eyes refocused on Morrigan, burning with anger and determination.

"Bitch, try that again!" Adonis taunted, his voice low and dangerous. He shifted his stance, ready for whatever Morrigan might throw at him next.

Morrigan's face twisted into a sneer, and he raised his hand, aiming a slap at Adonis's face. But Adonis was ready this time. With reflexes honed from countless hours in the ring, he ducked under Morrigan's arm and came up with a powerful sucker punch that caught Morrigan square on the jaw.

The impact of the punch sent Morrigan reeling backward, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn't expected Adonis to react so quickly or hit so hard. As he stumbled, trying to regain his balance, the others looked on, tension thick in the air. This confrontation was far from over, and everyone knew it. The streets of Yomihara were about to witness a clash between two powerful incubi, with potentially devastating consequences.

As the two Incubi brawled in the gritty streets of Yomihara, Rin turned to Wolfgang, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern. "What's the deal with Morrigan and Ambrose?" she asked, her voice barely audible above the sounds of the fight.

Wolfgang sighed, running a hand through his hair as he watched the clash unfold. "It's a complicated family affair," he began, his voice low and gravelly. "Morrigan is the second eldest brother, with Ambrose being the first. They're like two sides of the same coin when it comes to their philosophy on beauty."

He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Ambrose, he sees beauty in everything - not just sex appeal, but the world itself. Morrigan, on the other hand," Wolfgang's eyes narrowed as he watched the flamboyant Incubus dodge one of Adonis's attacks, "he finds beauty in battle and war. He's got an insatiable appetite for conflict, which is why he's known as the 'God of War'."

Wolfgang caught himself, glancing briefly at nothing in particular before adding, "No, not that God of War." He shook his head, refocusing on the explanation.

"After the previous Incubus King died, chaos erupted. Many Succubi and Incubi went rogue, with most joining Astaroth's ranks. But Morrigan," Wolfgang's voice took on a darker tone, "he decided to throw his lot in with Teutates, the Wraith King."

At the mention of Teutates, a visible shiver ran through the group. Even Wolfgang, usually unshakeable, seemed unsettled. "Teutates isn't someone to fuck with," he continued. "Like my old man, Edwin Black, Teutates keeps a low profile. Most demons think he's just an urban legend, but those who know better... well, they say he's even more powerful than the old man."

Wolfgang's eyes clouded over, a mix of determination and frustration evident in his expression. "I've dedicated my entire life to fighting and training, always pushing to be the best. My goal? To surpass my father, to reign supreme over the likes of Astaroth and Teutates. I proved my worth to Morrigan last time we fought, but..." he trailed off, watching as Morrigan and Adonis exchanged blows.

"Seeing Morrigan now, it's like looking in a twisted mirror," Wolfgang admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "He embodies everything I could have become if I'd let my worst instincts take over. He's sacrificed family, loyalty, everything for the sake of power and the thrill of battle."

Ambrose, overhearing Wolfgang's words, nodded solemnly. "I've often wondered what Wolffy might have become without us around to rein in his brutal instincts," he mused, his usual cheerful demeanor subdued.

As they watched the fight unfold, it became clear that despite Morrigan's preference for fire and lightning magic, he was no slouch in hand-to-hand combat. He matched Adonis blow for blow, his movements fluid and precise.

Adonis, lean and nimble, made up for what he lacked in raw strength and speed with his incredible agility. His black angel wings, usually reserved for flight, occasionally unfurled to act as a makeshift shield against Morrigan's magical attacks.

The fight intensified, with both combatants pulling out all the stops. Adonis attempted a roundhouse kick, his leg whipping through the air with impressive speed. But Morrigan, ever the cunning fighter, dodged the attack with a graceful sidestep.

In a move that drew gasps from the onlookers, Morrigan took advantage of his position behind Adonis. With a cruel smirk, he delivered a crouching uppercut directly to Adonis's groin, his arm connecting solidly with the wrestler's testicles.

Wolfgang winced at the sight, his face contorting in a mixture of sympathy and disgust. "Come on, man. That's low, even for you!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying over the sounds of the fight.

The dirty move seemed to energize the crowd, with some cheering for the ruthless display while others booed at the unsportsmanlike conduct.

"Dude, what's the point having rules in a fight? Are you bitching about Adonis's family jewels?!" Morrigan sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. His eyes gleamed with a cruel light as he continued, "Even if this guy can enjoy playing fake wrestling, he'd still be no better than his deadbeat dead dad!"

The words hung in the air, heavy with malice and intent. Adonis, still doubled over from the low blow, felt a surge of anger coursing through him. The mention of his father, Kamadeva, stirred up a complex mix of emotions.

Kamadeva, the former Incubus King, had been notorious for his womanizing ways. He had bedded countless mistresses and fathered numerous children, Adonis among them. But unlike his father, Adonis had chosen a different path.

In his final moments, Kamadeva had made a decision that would shape Adonis's life. Recognizing the burden that came with the throne and the title of Phantom Lord, he entrusted his son to Ambrose and Wolfgang. He wanted Adonis to have a chance at a normal, peaceful life, free from the weighty responsibilities and dangers of ruling.

And Adonis had seized that opportunity. Rejecting the path laid out by his lineage, he had pursued his own dreams, finding his calling in the world of professional wrestling. It wasn't the life of a demon lord, but it was his choice, his passion.

As these thoughts raced through Adonis's mind, he realized he had a choice to make. He could let Morrigan's words get to him, or he could prove that he was more than just Kamadeva's son.

With a grimace of pain, Adonis straightened up. One hand still cupped protectively over his groin, he raised the other, his fingers poised to snap.

Ambrose and Wolfgang exchanged a knowing glance. They recognized what was coming, a technique they had seen before but never from Adonis.

With a sharp click, Adonis snapped his fingers.

The sound seemed to echo in the suddenly still air. Behind Morrigan, a shimmering form began to take shape. It coalesced into the figure of an angel, its ethereal beauty at odds with the gritty surroundings of Yomihara's streets.

Wolfgang, unable to contain himself, broke the fourth wall. Looking directly at an unseen audience, he explained, "If you've seen Final Fantasy VI and VII, when Kefka and Sephiroth bring these angels on your party members, the next thing you know they are only 1 HP close to death's door."

The angel moved with otherworldly grace, wrapping its arms around Morrigan. Its wings, luminous and soft, enveloped him in what seemed like a gentle embrace.

Morrigan's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in suspicion. But before he could react, the angel's form began to shift. Its radiant glow dimmed, replaced by wisps of dark, swirling miasma.

The miasma clung to Morrigan, seeping into his skin. His cocky expression faltered, replaced by one of shock and growing weakness. The dark energy sapped at his strength, draining him with alarming speed.

Unable to withstand the assault, Morrigan's knees buckled. He collapsed to the ground, his usual flamboyant grace abandoned as he struggled to remain conscious.

The onlookers watched in stunned silence as the tables turned so dramatically. Adonis stood tall, his pain forgotten in the wake of his successful counterattack.

Just as Adonis was about to deliver the final blow, Ambrose's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Adonis, that's enough hijo," he said firmly, his usual jovial tone replaced by a serious one. The young Incubus froze, his fist raised mid-air, chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline.

Wolfgang stepped forward, his imposing figure commanding attention. With a voice that brooked no argument, he addressed the crowd that had gathered around the impromptu fight. "This match is considered illegal, and therefore is a no-contest! Please disperse now." His eyes swept over the onlookers, daring anyone to challenge his authority.

As the spectators began to reluctantly shuffle away, Morrigan let out a bitter laugh. "Gehehehehe... Seriously bro, do you have to be a buzzkill?" He turned to Wolfgang, his eyes gleaming with a mix of disappointment and mockery. "I thought you were better than this. You've turned from a badass in the ring to a bleeding heart!"

Wolfgang's face remained impassive, but his eyes flashed with something dangerous. He took a step closer to Morrigan, his voice low and gravelly. "Time is a bitch, mate. There are things that will never stay the same. You get easily bored with nothing to do in life even after accomplishing everything." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "But my goal outside of my career never changed - to be on the top of the food chain! To surpass my deadbeat vampire father and every top dog in the demon realm!"

As he spoke, the air around Wolfgang seemed to crackle with barely contained power. It was a stark reminder of who he was - a seven-time world champion and an ascended demon. His reputation wasn't just built on his prowess in the ring, but on the bridges he'd built between the human and demon worlds. His ascension wasn't a mere act of virtue, but a testament to his unwavering trust in his friends and his relentless desire to keep pushing forward.

Wolfgang's eyes flicked briefly to Adonis, who was watching the exchange with a mix of confusion and admiration. "Taking Adonis under my wing isn't just about training a wrestler," Wolfgang continued, his voice softening slightly. "It's about ensuring there's someone to carry on the responsibility of protecting both worlds. I can't keep fighting forever, and if something were to happen to me..." He left the sentence hanging, the implication clear.

A smirk played on Wolfgang's lips as he added, "Yeah, Donnie might be rebooting his career. The fact that he one-upped you is proof that old man Kamadeva still lives in him, or at least a part of the old perv."

Morrigan, who had been listening with a mixture of disdain and curiosity, managed to push himself to his feet. Despite the beating he'd taken, there was a new respect in his eyes as he looked at Adonis. "I'm intrigued you say that, Wolffy. Yeah, he maybe Kamadeva's kid. But, he's the real deal." He turned to Adonis, a challenging grin spreading across his face. "I'll see your ass in the ring, Donnie. If you manage to win a championship in AWJ, that is, I'll look forward to challenge you!"

With that, Morrigan turned and sauntered away, his flamboyant swagger somewhat diminished by his recent defeat but his spirit clearly unbroken. The remaining onlookers - Ambrose's younger sisters and Rin - watched him go with a mixture of confusion and disbelief etched on their faces.

Two days later, at an AWJ house show...

The bustling backstage area of the AWJ arena hummed with energy as wrestlers prepared for their matches. Adonis, his muscular frame wrapped in a sleek wrestling outfit, exited the locker room with purpose. As he strode down the corridor, the smell of sweat and anticipation thick in the air, he unexpectedly ran into three familiar faces.

His tag team partner, Lulu Manhattan, stood out immediately. The incubus's long, flowing white hair cascaded down his back, contrasting sharply with his tanned skin. Lulu's athletic build was accentuated by a form-fitting leotard and leggings, giving him an androgynous appearance that blurred the lines between masculinity and femininity.

Flanking Lulu were two imposing figures that caught Adonis's attention: Joker Jose and Joaquin 2 Loco, collectively known as Instant Chaos Posse. The Oni wrestlers wore elaborate luchador masks, their designs an homage to a certain horror core rapper duo. Despite their demonic heritage, there was something undeniably human about their postures and mannerisms, a result of growing up in Puerto Rico.

"Adonis! Mucho tiempo sin ver, hermano! Bienvenido a Japon, vato," Jose's deep voice boomed as he greeted Adonis. His stout build and broad shoulders made him look more like an Orc than an Oni, a stark contrast to his tag team partner Joaquin, who possessed a leaner, more agile physique.

Adonis grinned, memories of his debut match against Gigante flashing through his mind. "Some Brazilian mark gave me the same greeting. Anyways, I'm glad to see you guys," he replied, his Dutch accent adding a unique flavor to his words. "So you guys signed here in AWJ?"

Joaquin nodded, his mask shifting slightly with the movement. "Orale. The promotion in Mexico has gone completely stale since you left. Thanks to Lulu, we decided to jump ship here. Because of the street fights in Tokyo Kingdom and Yomihara, and Jose and I are going to launch our next single."

Adonis raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He knew that Jose and Joaquin weren't just luchadores; they were also talented rappers. Their masks, patterned after Insane Clown Posse, were more than just wrestling gear – they were a testament to their musical alter egos. The duo had gained quite a following with their Spanish cover versions of ICP's music, even earning the approval of the original group.

Lulu's piercing gaze met Adonis's, a hint of concern in his eyes. "How is Wolffy doing right now?"

Adonis shrugged, his expression softening slightly. "He's already found a peace of mind. At the same time he's been doing jobs for the highest bidder."

Lulu's brow furrowed, his usually carefree demeanor giving way to worry. "I hope Wolffy is used to doing bodyguard work, Donnie. Because, I fear for Jose and Joaquin's safety." The incubus glanced around, ensuring they were alone in this part of the backstage area. The absence of cameras allowed them to speak freely about more sensitive matters.

"What's going on?" Adonis asked, his voice lowering instinctively.

Joaquin stepped closer, his mask hiding his expression but not the tension in his voice. "We had some run-ins with some Nazi pendejos trying to get a jump on us. This isn't just some stalker trying to threaten us, ese."

Jose nodded, his massive frame seeming to grow even larger as he spoke. "You know these idiotas are human supremacists; the worst kind of racists." His voice dripped with disgust as he continued in rapid Spanish, "Si ver un cabron al azar haciendo un saludo de brazo recto no es lo suficientemente asqueroso, entonces no se que es!"

Adonis, drawing on his knowledge of Spanish, quickly grasped the gravity of the situation. The thought of his friends being targeted by such hateful individuals made his blood boil. "Don't worry, mate. I'll see what I can do to help," he assured them, his mind already racing with possibilities. "And did you guys hire security?"

Lulu shook his head, his long white hair swaying with the movement. "Unfortunately, the management has yet to provide JJ and J2L their security. But for now, I've come to their defense and on high alert."

Adonis sighed heavily, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. The weight of the situation settled on his broad shoulders like a physical burden. "Ah, fuck..." he muttered, his Dutch accent thickening with frustration. "First those Nazi bastards managed to get into Yomihara. And now they've been going on a witch hunt, targeting random demons."

He paused, considering the complex web of alliances and tensions in their world. "It seems the Taimanins are also on high alert after the Nichts Syndicate's attempt to siege Tokyo Kingdom a few months back. It might be hard to ask for their help, even though we're technically demons." A glimmer of hope crossed his face as he added, "However, Master Wolffy has earned their trust and respect. He's an ascended demon now, after all."

Jose nodded solemnly, his mask hiding his expression but not the tension in his posture. "If anything, holmes," he said, his deep voice tinged with worry, "I'm trusting you to find us some security. We need it not just for the house and live shows, but also for our gigs." He glanced at Joaquin, who nodded in agreement. "Japan feels like a breath of fresh air compared to our days in Mexico, you know? We don't want to lose that."

Adonis felt a surge of protectiveness for his friends. These weren't just fellow wrestlers; they were family in the strange, interconnected world they inhabited. "Don't worry," he assured them, his voice filled with determination. "I'll let you know if I can find you guys some muscle."

He glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing he was due in the ring soon. "If you'll excuse me, I have a match next," he said, already mentally preparing himself for the performance ahead.

Elsewhere in a pier, Wolfgang stood silently, his gaze fixed on the vast night sky. The gentle lapping of waves against the pier's edge provided a soothing backdrop to his thoughts. Despite having just completed a successful mission and captured a bounty, he wore a simple v-neck shirt and trousers beneath his signature fancy suit, a testament to his preference for practicality over ostentation.

Rin approached her partner, concern etched on her face as she noticed his pensive demeanor. The Volt Taimanin's footsteps were barely audible over the sound of the sea, but Wolfgang sensed her presence nonetheless.

"What's wrong?" Rin asked, her voice soft yet tinged with worry.

Wolfgang uncrossed his arms, letting out a small sigh before responding. "Nothing... It's just that I'm both worried and getting goosebumps at the same time." He turned to face Rin, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Quite frankly, I have high hopes for my protégé to take up my responsibility in protecting both human and demon worlds. But after seeing white feathers mixed with black ones in his wings, I can't help but think Donnie has the potential to achieve ascension. And that's where the 'ascension' part worries me."

Rin furrowed her brow, not fully understanding the implications. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Wolfgang ran a hand through his hair, searching for the right words to explain. "Demons achieve ascension through a pure and virtuous heart. It sounds good in theory, but there's nothing more terrifying than the thought of purity and righteousness coming together in excess." He paused, his expression growing grave. "Even an ascended demon can spiral back to being evil if they take their sense of justice too far."

He began to pace along the pier, his footsteps echoing in the night air. "Ascended demons don't necessarily have to be benevolent. There are evil ones too. Emphasis on pure in pure... EVIL." Wolfgang's voice dropped to almost a whisper, heavy with the weight of his past. "And I don't want Donnie to go down the dark path that I once walked."

Rin stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Wolfgang's arm. "You're afraid he might make the same mistakes you did?"

Wolfgang nodded, his eyes distant. "More than that. I'm afraid he might surpass them. With his potential for ascension, the consequences could be far more devastating."

A cool breeze swept across the pier, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea. Rin shivered slightly, prompting Wolfgang to instinctively move closer to her.

"But you're here to guide him," Rin said, her voice filled with reassurance. "Your experience, both good and bad, can help steer Donnie in the right direction."

Wolfgang's expression softened slightly at her words. "I hope you're right, Rin. But the path of righteousness is often more treacherous than it appears. One misstep, one moment of misguided judgment, and..."

He trailed off, leaving the ominous possibility hanging in the air between them. The distant sound of a ship's horn broke the silence, a reminder of the world beyond their intimate conversation.

As soon as the sound subsided, Rin finished his last sentence, her voice steady and understanding. "I know what you mean. Taimanins are also no different. We protect the world against those who disrupt the safety and peace of the human world." She paused, her eyes meeting Wolfgang's. "Based on what you said, it's no wonder why we are fighting radical rogue Taimanins like Momochi and his men, who judge everything in black and white absolutes."

Wolfgang nodded, a hint of surprise in his eyes at Rin's insight. She continued, "That kind of thinking supplants conviction like yours, and the duty of Taimanins like myself. It's a delicate balance we must maintain."

Rin's expression softened as she thought of her own experiences. "Just like how you were a good mentor to Adonis, I had to thoroughly train and support my cousin to ensure he becomes a fair and just clan leader once he reaches adulthood. It's a matter of reminding the next generation to learn from their predecessor's mistakes, so they don't repeat them."

Wolfgang's eyes clouded with memory. "That was the one thing I told Donnie after the Mexican Deathmatch, where his opponent died falling on the back of his neck from a ladder," he said, his voice heavy with regret. The tragic incident between Adonis and Arturo Pendragon Magallanes still weighed on him.

"Even in combat sports, one wrong move can shorten careers or worse, send the fighter six feet under," Wolfgang continued, his gaze distant. "Back then, I've been mostly at the giving end of ending careers of my opponents. Looking back on those brutal battles makes me think what a monster I was."

He shook his head, the pain of the memory evident in his voice. "That tragic incident, however, was Donnie's absolute lowest. His world title win was tainted by that fateful event alone, and he was never the same. He's unable to ever reach main event status since then."

Rin's eyes widened with empathy. "That's terrible..." she breathed, her hand unconsciously tightening on Wolfgang's arm. "How has he been coping with it?"

Wolfgang sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's been a struggle. He's thrown himself into training, trying to perfect his technique to ensure nothing like that ever happens again. But the guilt... it's a heavy burden to bear. It took months after Pendragon's death for Donnie to heal and move forward, and then that... one night stand with Shizuru out of all people."

The mood of their conversation suddenly shifted from melancholic to comically awkward at the mere mention of Shizuru's one-night stand with the young Incubus. The seriousness that had hung in the air dissipated, replaced by an almost palpable sense of discomfort.

Rin's face morphed into a comical scowl, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips pursing. "You really had to bring that up," she said, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. She shook her head, her ponytail swaying with the motion. "I'm glad neither you nor Adonis said the quiet part out loud right in front of my cousin Shikanosuke. That would have been... awkward, to say the least."

Wolfgang chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling in his chest. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he leaned against the pier's railing. "I mean, Adonis is basically an adult in his mid-20's. I can't say for certain if other demons age like normal humans," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Besides, I'm more than grateful to Shizuru for turning my Adonis into a man. His name speaks for itself, befitting an Incubus."

Rin rolled her eyes, but a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. The sea breeze picked up, ruffling their hair and carrying the scent of salt and seaweed.

"Last Christmas Eve," Wolfgang continued, a mischievous glint in his eye, "he even cooked a sea otter stew that TJ made a few months ago. And sea otter meat is a very potent aphrodisiac." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Rin to groan and cover her face with her hands. "Well, I also taught Donnie how to cook. And considering what happened next, the two had the most raunchy, steamy sex for the entire night!"

Rin peeked through her fingers, her cheeks flushed red. "Jesus, Wolfgang..." she muttered, half-scandalized and half-amused. She lowered her hands, tilting her head curiously. "And speaking of sea otter stew, when was the last time you and your crew had a taste of one?"

At the mention of sea otter stew, Wolfgang's expression suddenly changed. His eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush crept up his neck. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, clearly recalling a memory that made him uncomfortable.

"That was just a mere hallucination," he said quickly, waving his hand dismissively. The abruptness of his response and the slight nervousness in his voice suggested there was more to the story than he was letting on.

Rin raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his reaction. "Oh? Sounds like there's a story there. Come on, spill it," she prodded, nudging him with her elbow.

Wolfgang cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, let's just say that TJ, Ambrose, and I had an... interesting experience with sea otter stew once. It's not something I'm particularly keen on reliving or explaining in detail."

Rin's curiosity was piqued even further. "Now you've got to tell me. Was it really that bad?"

Wolfgang sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get out of this easily. "Let's just say it involved some unexpected side effects, leading to , and us ending up in some rather compromising positions. It's not exactly a proudest moment for any of us."

Rin couldn't help but laugh at the mental image. "I can only imagine. Remind me never to let you three eat sea otter meat ever again."

The two shared a hearty laugh, their voices carrying over the gentle lapping of waves against the pier. The tension from their earlier conversation dissipated, replaced by a comfortable companionship.

Suddenly, the air around them shifted. Black feathers began to rain down, interspersed with a few white ones, creating an ethereal scene against the backdrop of the night sky.

Rin's body tensed instinctively, her ninja training kicking in. "These feathers..." she said, her voice trailing off as her eyes scanned the area.

Wolfgang placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret. He's close by," he said calmly, recognizing the telltale sign of his protégé's approach.

As if on cue, Adonis landed gracefully just a few inches away from them, his wings folding neatly behind his back. The young Incubus's arrival created a small gust of wind, ruffling Wolfgang and Rin's hair.

"Hé, wat doe je hier?" Wolfgang asked in Dutch, his tone a mix of curiosity and mild concern.

Adonis straightened up, his expression serious despite the interruption he knew he was causing. "Sorry dat ik uw privacy schend, Master Wolffy," he apologized, switching to English. "But, I need a favor to ask you. You remember the Puerto Rican ICP - Joker Jose and Joaquin 2 Loco?"

Wolfgang's brow furrowed slightly. "Yeah. What about them?"

Adonis's wings twitched nervously as he explained, "Some neo-Nazi clowns are trying to jump on them. Even worse, security around the house shows are a bit lenient. Also, they're asking for some security detail, since they are also rappers."

Rin listened intently, her mind already working on potential solutions. She knew of Jose and Joaquin, the Oni luchadores who styled themselves after the Insane Clown Posse. Their collective, known as Instant Chaos Party, had faced discrimination and persecution simply for being demons, a situation exacerbated by their careers as wrestlers and rappers.

Wolfgang let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Ah, Christ... Looks like Gosha's having more Nazi problems after that freighter incident a couple of weeks ago." He glanced at Rin, who nodded in understanding.

"Also," Wolfgang continued, his tone thoughtful, "Taimanins are active 24/7, most of them are on missions. If anything, I'll ask the one-eyed nerd, the task force's captain, or the academy's principal to ask for VIP protection. And it's not going to be easy."

Wolfgang nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the complex situation. "I know how Taimanins operate, Donnie. It's not too different from my usual contractual work." He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. "Gosha's higher-ups... they're a bit hesitant about sending their own to do security work for VIPs, especially when those VIPs happen to be demons from the western continent."

Rin interjected, her voice soft but firm. "But even Taimanins draw the line at discrimination and hate crimes, be it human or demon." She glanced at Wolfgang, a silent understanding passing between them. They both knew too well the sting of prejudice, having been on the receiving end of it numerous times.

Wolfgang continued, his voice taking on a more determined tone. "Trust me, we'll make sure your guys get the security they need when they need it." He turned to face Adonis directly, his gaze intense. "And Donnie... I know it might take a while, but I think you might need to step up. Bring your buddies from the ring into this. Fight for a good cause."

Adonis's eyes widened slightly, understanding dawning on his face. Wolfgang was suggesting that he gather his friends - the Puerto Rican ICP duo and Lulu - to join him in fights against those threatening both human and demon worlds. Just as Wolfgang had offered his assistance to Gosha's Taimanins.

"In that case..." Adonis started, his voice growing stronger with each word, "I'm ready for that, master. Just as I've always been ready to take on the world since day one." He nodded, a newfound determination setting in his features. "Besides, I don't have to fight alone. Jose, Joaquin, and Lulu followed me here to Japan. They're the closest thing to family I had during our time in Mexico."

His voice softened slightly, a hint of vulnerability showing through. "Things may be different now, but I want to do something that can help me reinvent not just my career, but embrace a part of me. Even though I'm nothing like my perverted cuckold of a father."

Wolfgang's face softened, a proud smile tugging at his lips. He reached out, tapping Adonis's shoulder reassuringly. "Glad to hear that, kid. Remember, don't give up on your dreams, no matter how many times you fuck up. Failure is a part of life and progress. Understanding perfection requires accepting failure."

His voice took on a more serious tone, laden with years of experience. "You and I may have walked different paths, but we share something in common: we know what it means to rise to the top with grit and hustle, turning ambition into reality against all odds. Never forget who you are and the people who helped you make your dream come true."

Adonis stood there, absorbing his mentor's words. His mind raced through the highs and lows of his career, remembering how, despite slumping in the final years of his stint in Mexico, he had managed to succeed in what he set out to do.

Suddenly, a change began to overtake Adonis. His black, avian wings sprouted from his back, unfurling to their full span. Before their eyes, the feathers began to shimmer, the darkness bleeding away to reveal a brilliant white. The transformation didn't stop there. His horns, usually hidden, began to appear on both sides of his head, this time pointing backwards. A third horn, unlike the others, began sprouting at the top of his skull, sharp as a blade. Finally, a green gem manifested in the center of his forehead, glowing with an inner light.

Wolfgang's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and pride washing over his face. "Lookin' good, man," he said, his voice filled with awe as he realized what had happened. Adonis had become an ascended incubus.

Rin gasped softly, her eyes fixed on Adonis's transformed appearance. "Is this what I think it is..." she murmured, her gaze lingering on the now-white wings.

Wolfgang pulled a sleek watch case from his jacket, opening it to reveal a smartwatch that caught the light with its unique design. It was similar to Wolfgang's own, but with distinct differences - yellow LED protector and red outlines, contrasting with the blue accents of Wolfgang's device.

"Neem het, Donnie," Wolfgang said, his voice soft but filled with pride as he handed the smartwatch to his protégé. "Ik wachtte op de tijd van jouw hemelvaart."

Adonis's eyes widened as he took the watch, turning it over in his hands. "Is dat iets voor mij, master?" he asked, his voice a mix of awe and curiosity.

Wolfgang nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's yours now. And just like my watch, it has the data of old acquaintances that I've fought in the past. You can access their weapons once you set it to Battle Mode." He went on to explain the intricate functionalities of the watch, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

As Wolfgang spoke, Adonis learned that these smartwatches were far from ordinary. Wolfgang's was based on a Tag Heuer Connected Caliber E4, customized with an array of features - from a micro 3D printer to combat data analysis and object digitization. Adonis's watch, a Richard Mille model RM-X044LH, sported a color scheme reminiscent of a certain seven-time F1 world champion. It too was packed with similar capabilities, tailored to suit Adonis's unique needs.

Adonis's face lit up with excitement. "Sweet. I know a place to do a test drive with my new powers!" Before Wolfgang or Rin could react, Adonis spread his wings and took off, creating a sonic boom that pushed against where they stood.

Wolfgang sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Jesus... He really acts impulsively." His voice held a mix of exasperation and fondness, having witnessed firsthand his protégé's 'shoot first, ask questions later' mentality.

Rin looked at Wolfgang, concern etched on her face. "Do you know where he's going? He should've joined us to Gosha and use his new powers in VR Training."

Wolfgang shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. "Adonis is the type of guy who does actual training organically rather than relying on your usual virtual reality. And I'll let the writer guess where Donnie is at..."

The scene shifted to Tokyo Kingdom, an isolated metropolis where corruption lurks at every corner, that also served as Adonis's personal training ground as he landed seamlessly. The eerie silence of the city was soon broken by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Local gang members, patrolling under Nomad's employ, spotted Adonis. One ruffian's eyes widened in recognition. "You!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Adonis. It wasn't the first time the Dutchman had set foot in this isolated metropolis.

Adonis smirked, his new confidence radiating from him. "I don't even remember kicking your monkey-asses. And is this what Nomad has to offer?" His taunt echoed through the empty streets, a challenge to anyone who dared approach.

The ruffian's face contorted with anger. "Get him!" he yelled, and chaos erupted.

A melee ensued, with Adonis at the center. He moved with inhuman speed and grace, his new powers enhancing his already formidable skills. Fists flew, bodies soared through the air, and the sound of combat filled the city.

As the fight progressed, some of the thugs began to change. Their bodies twisted and grew, transforming into hulking monsters. But even these mutated foes were no match for Adonis's newfound strength.

He ducked under a massive fist, retaliating with a lightning-fast uppercut that sent the monster flying. Spinning on his heel, he caught another attacker with a roundhouse kick, the impact echoing like a thunderclap.

As another wave of attackers charged towards Adonis, the air filled with a cacophony of growls, mechanical whirs, and demonic screeches. Mutated ruffians, their bodies twisted into grotesque forms, lumbered forward alongside sleek, metallic attack dogs with glowing red eyes. Behind them, a horde of Nomad demons materialized, their ethereal forms flickering in and out of reality.

Adonis, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation, glanced down at the smartwatch on his left wrist. The screen lit up with a notification, a message from Wolfgang appearing:

"Slide the screen to the right to set into Battle Mode -Wolffy"

Without hesitation, Adonis followed his master's instruction, swiping the screen to the right. The watch hummed to life, and suddenly, Adonis found himself surrounded by a shimmering ring of ethereal, translucent weapons. Each one floated in a digitized form, circling around him like a carousel of deadly possibilities.

His eyes were drawn to a large, spiked club that seemed to pulse with latent energy. Reaching out, Adonis touched its ghostly form, and in an instant, a solid, pink spiked club materialized in his hand.

A grin spread across his face as recognition dawned. "I've seen this before. This is that Gyaru Girlboss's spiked club!" he exclaimed, recalling a certain Oni who led a small-time gang and wielded this very weapon.

Breaking the fourth wall, Adonis turned his gaze directly to an unseen audience. "Who needs a steel chair or a sledgehammer when you bring a giant-ass kanabo to a fight? In the words of CM Punk, IT'S CLOBBERING TIME!"

Despite its imposing size and what should have been an incredible weight, Adonis found he could wield the spiked club with ease in one hand. True to his word, he launched into action, swinging the massive weapon in wide arcs. Each blow connected with devastating force, sending mutated thugs flying through the air like ragdolls.

As the fight intensified, Adonis tapped the weapon icon on his smartwatch again. This time, two familiar objects appeared: Rahu and Ketu, Wolfgang's beam sabers, their handles separated.

Grabbing one in each hand, Adonis activated the sabers. Neon-green energy blades erupted from the handles with a satisfying hum. Just in time, as the mechanical dogs opened fire, their tail guns spitting a hail of bullets.

With grace that belied his muscular frame, Adonis twirled the sabers, deflecting the barrage of gunfire. The air crackled with energy as bullets ricocheted off the plasma blades. In a fluid motion, he connected the two sabers, forming a double-bladed weapon that sliced through the air with deadly precision.

Not content with just two weapons, Adonis summoned another from the watch's arsenal: the Battle-Hardened Incisor, a formidable halberd that once belonged to a demon mercenary strategist known for her cunning tactics.

As the Nomad demons closed in, Adonis's white wings unfurled from his back. With a powerful thrust, he launched himself into the air, the sudden updraft causing his hair to whip around his face. Hovering above the chaos, he gripped the halberd tightly, his eyes locked on a particularly menacing Nomad demon below.

With a shout that echoed across the battlefield, Adonis hurled the halberd like an Olympic javelin. It whistled through the air, its blade glinting in the light before embedding itself deep in the chest of the targeted demon. The creature let out an unearthly shriek before dissolving into wisps of dark energy.

Seizing the moment, Adonis gripped Rahu and Ketu, now reconnected into a double saber. He tucked in his wings and began to descend, picking up speed as he fell. At the last second, he spread his wings again, using the momentum to propel himself into a dizzying barrel roll.

The world became a blur of color and motion as Adonis spun, the green energy blades of his saber creating a lethal vortex around him. He tore through the remaining enemies like a tornado of destruction, leaving nothing but dissipating demon essence and sparking mechanical parts in his wake.

As the last foe fell, Adonis touched down on the ground, his wings retracting smoothly into his back. The battlefield fell silent, save for the distant echo of his final attack and the soft hum of his deactivating weapons.

"How many times do I have to remind you of trespassing in our city, child?" Ingrid's voice was stern, carrying the weight of authority and years of experience.

Adonis, still buzzing with the rush of his newfound powers, couldn't help but smirk. "For a second there I was expecting that psycho Oboro, and here you are. Hell Knight Ingrid," he sneered, recalling the stories his master had shared. "I heard you gave Master Wolffy a hard time back then."

Ingrid's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her sword. "I couldn't care less if you are the son of Kamadeva. Since you are too stubborn for your own good, I will personally have to humble you." With a fluid motion, she drew her prized sword, Dark Flame, its obsidian blade seeming to absorb the light around it. She pointed it directly at Adonis, a clear challenge in her stance.

Adonis felt a surge of power coursing through him. In a matter of moments, his body began to transform. His horns, once pointing forward, now manifested on both sides of his head, curving backwards in a majestic display. His wings, no longer jet black, unfurled behind him in a brilliant white, each feather seeming to glow with an inner light. A green gem materialized on his forehead, pulsing with energy, and a third horn, shaped like a curved blade, emerged from the center of his skull.

Ingrid's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through her stoic demeanor. This was not the same Adonis she had encountered before. His very presence seemed to radiate power.

"How in the world did you achieve ascension?!" she exclaimed, her voice betraying a mix of shock and grudging respect. Her reaction implied that she, like many others, had believed ascended demons to be mere myth.

Adonis shrugged, a hint of confusion in his own eyes. "That I have no clue of," he replied honestly. Then, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "I just came here to put these new powers to the test."

Without warning, Adonis reached up and detached the third horn from his skull. In his hand, it transformed into a gleaming, crescent-shaped blade. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it spinning through the air. The blade whizzed past Ingrid, who instinctively ducked, only to realize it wasn't aimed at her.

The horn blade sliced through the air with deadly precision, bisecting the demons that had been flanking Ingrid. Their forms dissolved into wisps of dark energy before they could even cry out. The blade, as if guided by an unseen hand, curved in its trajectory and returned to Adonis. He caught it effortlessly and remounted it on his skull, where it merged seamlessly back into place.

Ingrid's eyes narrowed, reassessing the threat before her. This was no longer a simple case of trespassing. The ascended Incubus standing before her posed a real challenge, one she hadn't anticipated.

"Impressive," she admitted grudgingly, her sword still at the ready. "But don't think for a moment that flashy tricks will save you from the consequences of your actions."

Adonis once again detached the third horn from his head, this time with a fluid, practiced motion. As it left his skull, the horn shimmered and transformed, elongating and curving into a sleek, deadly weapon. The result was a curved, long-bladed dagger, its blade seamlessly encompassing the handle in an elegant, deadly arc.

"I'm just getting warmed up, bitch!" Adonis taunted, his voice dripping with cocky bravado. Then, his eyes darted to the side, breaking the fourth wall as he addressed an unseen audience. "You guys saw that? Ultraseven would be proud! As for this thing, it's basically an off-shoot of the Xlugger from Ultraman X. There's even a button under the handle. Instead of a sliding panel, there's basically a connection sensor that can be activated from my watch."

With a practiced flourish, he spun the weapon and gripped it in a reverse hold, now called the Angladius, a portmanteau of 'angel' and 'gladius'.

The air crackled with tension as Adonis and Ingrid faced each other, their weapons poised for combat. In a burst of movement, they clashed, the Angladius meeting Dark Flame in a shower of sparks. The impact sent shockwaves through the air, the ground beneath their feet cracking from the force.

As their blades locked, something unexpected happened. The dark magic that usually emanated from Ingrid's blade began to wane, its malevolent aura flickering like a candle in the wind. Ingrid's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face for the first time.

Adonis, sensing the shift, pressed his advantage. He leaned in, his newly white wings flaring behind him, creating an imposing silhouette. "What's wrong, Ingrid? Your toy sword losing its bite?"

Ingrid gritted her teeth, pushing back against Adonis with renewed force. But even as she did, her mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. Her lips moved, barely a whisper, as she voiced her thoughts:

"Black-sama's hunch about the existence of ascended demons... it's true. There was never a single demon who has ascended in existence, until Black-sama's son was given a Royal Knight weapon by the Dutch royals. Ascended demons, while still high-ranking, surpass the power of ruler demons like the Queen of Inferno Astaroth. Which means, they are classified as superdemons."

The realization seemed to both unsettle and intrigue her, her eyes narrowing as she reassessed the threat before her.

Adonis, oblivious to her internal monologue, saw only an opening. With a burst of strength, he managed to push Ingrid back, creating space between them. Without hesitation, he tapped into his newfound powers. The gem on his forehead glowed with an intense, neon-green light, and a moment later, a laser of the same hue shot forth, slicing through the air towards Ingrid.

The Hell Knight barely had time to dodge, the beam grazing her arm and leaving a sizzling mark on her armor. She hissed in pain but didn't falter, immediately retaliating with a series of quick, deadly slashes.

Once again, their blades met in a furious dance of steel and energy. The clash of weapons echoed through the area, each impact sending tremors through the ground. It was a testament to their skill that neither could gain a clear advantage, their movements a blur of attacks and counterattacks.

As the fight intensified, they found themselves locked in a tug-of-war, their blades pressed against each other, neither willing to give an inch. Ingrid, using her experience and tactical mind, managed to maneuver Adonis into a corner, her blade inching closer to his throat.

"Answer my question again, boy," she demanded, her voice steely with determination. "How are you able to achieve ascension? Only those with pure hearts are able to accomplish that!"

Adonis, despite being cornered, didn't lose his cocky demeanor. A smirk played on his lips as he replied, "Pure? Want to know what the idea of pure you're asking about is? Unlike you, being a noble yes-woman to a vampiric crime lord, I didn't have to be a goody two-shoes to get these white wings. Wanna know why? Because I'm already a fucking asshole! Two words for you, Ingrid: Pure. Evil."

The Hell Knight's eyes widened at his words, confusion evident on her face. Adonis, seeing her reaction, pressed on, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Adonis points out that even ascended demons don't have to be benevolent to become one. Even evil demons can achieve this feat. Adonis's unadulterated quality is rooted in his ability to NEVER break character as a heel wrestler. He is already an accomplished wrestler with two world championships to his name. There's nothing more terrifying than the dark side of purity in its unadulterated state.

Adonis's eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and wisdom beyond his years as he continued to address Ingrid. His voice carried a weight that seemed to echo through the battleground.

"Master Wolffy once said: the world is full of shitty people," Adonis declared, his tone resolute. "It's very easy to be an asshole when you're dealing with the most horrible people from depraved rapists to fanatical and warmongering Nazis! Sometimes, honor and nobility become non-existent and you're rewarded with misery for showing honor and mercy. Just because the world will continue to trample you doesn't mean you give up."

As he spoke, Adonis's hand moved to his smartwatch, activating its wireless connectivity to the Angladius. The air around him seemed to crackle with anticipation.

The smartwatch's computerized voice broke the tension, declaring, "Standing by..."

Adonis's finger hovered over the watch's screen for a moment before pressing the finisher icon. The watch responded immediately, its voice ringing out, "Full Charge!"

With a fluid motion that spoke of countless hours of practice, Adonis lifted one leg, his posture reminiscent of a pitcher preparing to throw a fastball. The Angladius gleamed in his hand, catching the light as he wound up.

"Alpha Edge Gyro!" Adonis shouted, his voice carrying across the battlefield as he released the blade.

The Angladius spun through the air like a deadly frisbee, but what happened next defied explanation. The single blade split into three identical copies, each streaking through the air in a different color - red, blue, and yellow. They moved with a life of their own, striking at Ingrid from multiple directions in a dizzying display of speed and precision.

Ingrid, despite her skill and experience, found herself overwhelmed by the onslaught. She twisted and turned, her sword flashing as she attempted to deflect the attacks, but the blades were too fast, too numerous. They left shallow cuts across her armor, each strike chipping away at her defenses.

The finale of the attack was as beautiful as it was deadly. The three blades converged in front of Ingrid, their paths tracing a glowing letter 'A' in the air before her. In a flash, they merged back into a single Angladius, which Adonis caught with a flourish before returning it to the center of his skull.

The impact of the attack was immediate and devastating. Ingrid, the formidable Hell Knight, dropped to one knee, her breathing labored. She stabbed her sword into the ground, using it as a crutch to keep herself from collapsing entirely.

It was at this moment that Wolfgang and Rin arrived on the scene, riding atop Wolfgang's imposing four-winged dragon, Hangman. The dragon's massive form cast a shadow over the battlefield as it descended, its wings stirring up gusts of wind that made the carnage around them all the more apparent.

Rin's eyes widened as she took in the scene before them. Bodies littered the ground, some demons dismembered, others lying in pools of their own blood. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid smell of spent energy.

"Ingrid's been completely drained..." Rin observed, her voice a mix of awe and concern.

Wolfgang let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head slightly. "Yeah, typical Donnie. Once he starts showboating, it could get really messy," he said, his tone a mix of exasperation and pride. He glanced around the battlefield, his expression growing more serious. "If Ambrose was here, he'd be probably livid right now..."

Turning his attention to Ingrid, Wolfgang's voice took on a mocking edge. "A Hell Knight getting trounced by an ascended Incubus, how pathetic."

Ingrid, still struggling to catch her breath, shot Wolfgang a glare filled with both anger and disbelief. "And you, of all people, are supposed to be his mentor and father figure!" she spat out, her voice hoarse. "Do you have any idea of the perils of becoming an ascended demon?! Your powers and very existence can become a threat to other demons just as the Taimanins are."

Wolfgang's eyes hardened, his posture straightening as he faced Ingrid. "Don't you ever take me for a fool!" he retorted, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "I know the highs and lows of being an ascended. I already achieved balance with my own darkness and light, without them, I'd be probably going off the deep end right now. Donnie's still young, and he has to find answers on his own. I don't even have to remind him all the time."

Ingrid's expression shifted, a hint of understanding mixing with her exhaustion. "I see... So, you still have darkness in you when you've embraced the light," she mused, her voice softer now.

Wolfgang's face softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Anyone can embrace the light. The same can be said with the dark. That's why balance exists," he explained, his tone carrying the weight of hard-earned wisdom. As he turned to leave with Rin and Adonis, he called back over his shoulder, "By the way, tell my old man I just paid a visit."

The Hell Knight, recognizing her defeat, made no move to stop them as they prepared to depart. Wolfgang approached Hangman, his gaze meeting Adonis's eyes. A mixture of pride, concern, and amusement danced in Wolfgang's expression.

"Ambrose is so going to give you a mouthful when we get home," Wolfgang said with a bitter laugh. "He told you to stop poking around in Tokyo Kingdom."

Adonis's face lit up with a mischievous grin, a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he replied, "I'm already used to that, master. I kinda missed the old days of Uncle Ambrose yelling at me for my antics."

With a flourish, Adonis spread his newly white wings, the feathers catching the moonlight. In a burst of speed, he took to the sky, his form quickly becoming a speck against the night sky.

Wolfgang climbed onto Hangman's back, the dragon's scales cool beneath his touch. Rin followed suit, her volt whips crackling with energy as she used them to anchor herself to the dragon's body.

As they prepared for takeoff, Hangman's wings began to move. In a display of otherworldly grace, the four wings split into two appendages on each side, forming an "X" shape. With a powerful downbeat, the dragon launched into the air, following the path Adonis had taken into the night sky.

Footnotes & Trivia:

Arturo's tragic death is inspired from actual wrestling accidents, with one referenced in this chapter. First is the death of Owen Hart, as Arturo fell to the ground from a long height after Adonis throws Arturo and himself out of the ladder, landing on the back of his neck. Owen Hart fell to his death from a stunt gone wrong when his harness gave out. Also, Arturo's death is also based on the death of Perro Aguayo, Jr, both of their deaths involved spinal trauma. However, the circumstances of Aguayo's death is far more complicated, given Rey Mysterio was supposed to set him up for the 619, as he was already limping on the ropes unconscious.