If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
___________________________
The fans ate it up. Every near fall, every bone rattling slam. They were hooked. The bout ended in thunder. Kozlov went for the Iron Curtain slam, but Sheamus slipped out, drilled him with the Irish Curse Backbreaker, and then, like a cannon firing, unleashed a brutal Brogue Kick that nearly decapitated the Moscow Mauler as it hit Kozlov's jaw like a freight train, and that was all she wrote.
"One… two… three!" The ref's hand slapped the mat, and the bell rang as Sheamus' music roared again. The camera caught his wild eyed grin, his chest heaving as the referee raised his arm in victory.
Sandro couldn't help but smile wider now. "Good for you, brother. "Hell of a debut." He murmured, a spark of pride in his chest. But there was no time to dwell. His own war was coming.
The night marched on with a stacked card, one match after another fueling the crowd's anticipation for the main event. Backstage, the energy was electric. Producers hustled between segments, stagehands wheeled crates past, and every monitor displayed the action in real time.
Sandro paced near Gorilla Position, headphones dangling around his neck as his theme played on loop in his mind. He stretched his shoulders, rolled his neck, trying to keep the nerves coiled tight instead of fraying loose. It wasn't fear, it was that crackling voltage that only came before a high stakes fight.
"Five minutes," a stagehand called, lifting a hand with all fingers splayed.
Sandro nodded, tugged his gloves tighter, and closed his eyes for a beat. Inhale. Exhale. Block out the noise. The whispers about the scandal were gone now, replaced by one thought, sharp and relentless. This is your moment. Own it.
Justin Roberts stood center ring, microphone in hand, his voice booming. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the GAUNTLET MATCH!" The crowd exploded. "The winner will earn a permanent spot representing Monday Night RAW in the Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royal at WrestleMania!"
The arena went dark for a heartbeat. Then the music hit.
"WOO WOO WOO! You know it!"
The arena erupted as Zack Ryder's theme blasted through the speakers. Out walked Ryder, shades on, his trademark headband gleaming under the lights, throwing up his signature fist pumps as the crowd showered him with cheers.
The self proclaimed Internet Champion, the fan favorite, riding a wave of energy straight into the gauntlet. He slid under the bottom rope, popped to his feet, and climbed a turnbuckle, hyping the crowd even higher.
Backstage, Sandro felt his pulse quicken as the crew gave him the cue. "You're up in thirty."
The opening riff of "Cult of Personality" tore through the arena like a live wire, and instantly the mood shifted. The cheers turned molten, but a river of boos cut through them like oil on water. The reaction was split, loud, chaotic, the perfect storm for a man like Sandro Zhang.
He stepped through the curtain, arms spread wide, head tilted back as white hot pyro exploded on either side of the stage. He scanned the crowd, that familiar cocky grin curling his lips before his eyes locked on the ring.
Backstage tension? Drama? Scandals? None of it mattered now. This was his world, his moment. The ramp became his stage as he stalked toward the ring, slow and deliberate, every step dripped arrogance, confidence sharpened into a blade.
Sandro climbed the steel steps, paused on the apron, and cast a glance at Ryder inside the ropes.
The Internet Champion bounced on his heels, grinning, but there was steel in his eyes too. He knew what this was. Sandro stepped through the ropes and made a show of pointing to the WrestleMania sign looming above the stage before backing into his corner, eyes locked on Ryder.
Justin Robert's voice rose over the crowd as he introduced both men. "Introducing first, from Long Island, New York, weighing in at 214 pounds… ZACK RYDERRRRR!" The cheers rose again as Ryder threw his arms up, hyped and ready.
"And his opponent…" Roberts turned toward Sandro, whose silhouette glowed under the red lights. "From Orlando, Florida, weighing in at 220 pounds… SANDRO ZHAAAAANG!"
The referee brought them both to the center, running through the usual instructions neither man was really listening to. The bell rang, sharp and loud, slicing through the roar of the crowd.
The opening exchange was a clinic in pace. Ryder shot in with a quick collar and elbow tie up, trying to muscle Sandro back, but Sandro slid out, catching Ryder's wrist and twisting it into a wrench before yanking him into a sharp knee to the gut. Ryder doubled over, but only for a heartbeat before firing back with a forearm that cracked against Sandro's jaw.
The crowd loved it. "LET'S GO RYDER!" chants dueled with "SANDRO SUCKS!" and "DOWNFALL! DOWNFALL!" Sandro smirked through the noise, rolling his shoulders as if to say, That all you got?
Ryder hit the ropes, coming back fast with a flying forearm that dropped Sandro to a knee. The pop was loud, a wave of cheers cresting as Ryder pumped his fist.
He grabbed Sandro, yanking him up for a vertical suplex but Sandro blocked it, hooked Ryder's leg, and snapped him over with a brutal Northern Lights suplex, bridging perfectly for the first pin.
One… two... kick out!
The match thundered on. Ryder nailed a missile dropkick off the top rope that nearly ended it, but Sandro's shoulder shot up at the last split second. Moments later, Sandro caught Ryder flush with a spinning back elbow that echoed like a gunshot, leaving Ryder sprawled on the canvas.
Sandro didn't waste time. He goes to the top turnbuckle, taunted Ryder to stand up, and the dive planting him with a Downfall DDT so vicious it rattled the boards. The crowd erupted half in awe, half in fury, as Sandro draped an arm over Ryder's chest.
One… two… three.
The bell rang. Ryder was out. The first domino had fallen.
Cole's voice cut through the roar of the crowd, laced with that smug satisfaction only a heel commentator could muster.
"YES! That's how you do it! Sandro Zhang just eliminated Zack Ryder like he was nothing!"
Lawler, on the other hand, wasn't hiding his disappointment. "Oh, come on, Cole! Ryder had him! That Downfall DDT came outta nowhere! That's not fair to the Long Island Iced Z, these people love Ryder!"
Cole chuckled. "Fair? This isn't a fairy tale, King, this is RAW! This is WrestleMania season! And that man right there—" Cole pointed at Sandro, who was kneeling in the center of the ring, arms spread wide, soaking in the mixed reaction as the referee raised his hand. "That man is going to put this whole roster on notice tonight!"
Sandro climbed to his feet slowly, chest rising and falling, a sly smirk curling on his lips as he pointed to the massive WrestleMania sign hanging above the stage. The cameras zoomed in, capturing the hunger in his eyes. This wasn't about bragging rights, this was about history.
The crowd barely had time to catch their breath before the next theme hit the speakers.
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!
"WE THE PEOPLE!"
The boos came in a tidal wave as Jack Swagger stormed out from the back, arms pumping like pistons, before then putting his right hand over his chest in salute before thrusting his arms wide. A smug grin plastered on his face.
Cole was loving every second of it. "Ohhh, business just picked up, King! The All American American is here, and and this is trouble for anyone, even a guy like Sandro.""
Lawler shot back immediately. "You mean if anyone can bore the crowd to tears, it's Jack Swagger! At least finally it's someone who can shut Sandro up"
Swagger marched down the ramp with purpose, pointing directly at Sandro like a hunter locking in on his prey. Sandro stood dead center in the ring, chest heaving, sweat glistening under the lights, his eyes locked on Swagger like a hawk tracking its next meal. The referee barely had time to signal before Swagger slid into the ring.
But Sandro wasn't waiting. He pounced like a predator, driving a massive knee drop square into Swagger's back before the bell even officially rang. The crowd erupted as Swagger collapsed to the mat face first, clutching his back in agony.
"Oh, come on! That's a cheap shot!" Lawler protested as the referee waved his arms and called for the bell as the match officially began.
"This is called smart strategy, King!" Cole barked. "You take control early, don't give a guy like Swagger time to use his power game."
"Smart? That's cheap!" Lawler snapped. "At least let the man stand up before you try to break his spine!"
Meanwhile, Swagger tried to get to his knees, but Sandro was already on him, raining down vicious forearm shots across the back of Swagger's head.
Each thud echoed through the arena like a drumbeat of violence. Sandro dragged him up by the hair and whipped him into the ropes with such force that Swagger nearly flipped over on the rebound.
Sandro charged and leveled him with a running European uppercut that nearly knocked the teeth out of Swagger's mouth. The impact sent the former World Champion crashing to the canvas, and the crowd roared in approval, dueling chants of "LET'S GO SANDRO!" and "WE THE PEOPLE!" filling the air.
Cole, of course, couldn't resist. "What a smart move! Don't give Swagger an inch, keep him grounded!"
Sandro didn't let up. He hooked Swagger's arm and yanked him to his feet, lifting him high before snapping him down with a picture perfect vertical suplex, the ring shaking from the impact. He rolled through, deadlifting Swagger into a second suplex, then a third, completing the trifecta with raw power and technical precision.
The crowd popped hard for the display.
Swagger groaned, clutching his lower back, but Sandro wasn't finished. He backed into the corner, stomping his foot in rhythm with the crowd. Everyone knew what was coming next, Sandro was stealing a move from Shawn Michael's playbook.
SWEET CHIN MUSIC!
Swagger ducked at the last second! Sandro's boot sailed over his head and smacked the top rope, sending vibrations up his leg. Before Sandro could recover, Swagger lunged forward and took him down with a thunderous double leg takedown, slamming him onto the mat with authority.
Cole went wild. "That's what I'm talking about! World class amateur wrestling, King!"
Swagger immediately transitioned, grabbing Sandro's ankle and wrenching it back into the Patriot Lock! The crowd erupted into chaos as Sandro thrashed, teeth gritted, trying to drag himself to the ropes. Swagger screamed like a madman, veins bulging in his neck as he twisted the ankle with every ounce of power he had.
Lawler leaned forward at the announce desk. "This could be it! Sandro's got nowhere to go! Tap or snap!"
But Sandro wasn't tapping. No way. He clawed at the canvas, fingertips brushing the bottom rope and Swagger yanked him back to the center! The boos cascaded down like rain.
Sandro's face contorted in agony, sweat dripping from his brow, but then, pure instinct. He twisted his body just enough to roll through the hold, sending Swagger crashing chest-first into the turnbuckle! The crowd popped huge as Sandro scrambled up, hobbling on one foot but still dangerous.
Swagger staggered backward, and Sandro sprang up, catching him flush with a rolling elbow strike that cracked like a gunshot. Swagger's legs wobbled, but he didn't go down. Sandro hit the ropes, came back like a bullet, SPINNING HEEL KICK! Swagger collapsed in a heap.
Sandro hooked the leg!
One… two… NO! Swagger kicked out, barely.
The arena was molten now. Chants of "THIS IS AWESOME!" thundered through the building. Both men lay on the mat, sucking wind, bodies battered, the gauntlet taking its toll.
Swagger was the first to stir, dragging himself to the corner. He pulled himself up, teeth clenched, and when Sandro charged, Swagger exploded out of the corner and nearly broke him in half with a devastating clothesline. Sandro flipped inside out, landing hard on his neck.
Cole was screaming. "Did you see that, King?! Swagger just turned him inside out!"
Swagger seized the moment, hauling Sandro up by the waist and drilling him with a gutwrench powerbomb that shook the ring like an earthquake. The fans booed mercilessly as Swagger threw his arms wide and shouted, "WE THE PEOPLE!" before stomping Sandro into the corner.
_______________________________
Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, & 1x TNA X Division Champion