Backstage, Vince spotted André sitting quietly on a wooden bench, still dressed in his ring gear after that explosive debut. The giant seemed much more reserved now, away from the bright lights of the arena. As Vince approached, André stood up immediately, showing his respect.
"You really nailed it tonight," Vince said sincerely. "The crowd is going to remember that debut for a long time."
A shy, gentle smile spread across André's face. "Thank you."
He hesitated for a moment, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Honestly... I would have preferred to come in as a hero."
Vince blinked, a bit taken aback. Before he could reply, a loud voice burst into the room.
"Oh, don't say that!"
Randal Savage swaggered in with his signature wide grin, still riding the high from the night's events. He gave André a hearty slap on the back. "Being the bad guy is way more fun."
André looked at him, curious and quiet.
Randal laughed, leaning in with flair. "You know what's thrilling? Locking eyes with thousands of fans while you take down their absolute favorite wrestler." His grin grew even wider. "The outrage. The boos. The sheer hatred. It's a thing of beauty."
André just stared at him, completely unsure of how to react. Vince observed the exchange, briefly wondering if Randal simply loved being a villain... or if he had some unsettling hobbies outside the ring. The thought flitted away as quickly as it came.
André turned back to Vince. "I still think I'd rather be a hero."
Vince smiled warmly. "We'll see. For now, embrace the role—it doesn't mean you'll be stuck there forever."
"If you think that's best," André nodded, accepting the advice.
"You'll do just fine," Vince said, extending his hand. The giant shook it firmly, nodding in agreement.
Later that afternoon, Lance Dawson walked into Vince's office, holding a folder filled with television reports, a smile already creeping onto his face.
"I've got some great news," Lance said, setting the folder down on the desk.
"The ratings?" Vince asked, glancing up from his paperwork.
"They're skyrocketing again," Lance replied. The incredible momentum from Promotion Wars had seamlessly flowed into IRW's weekly broadcast, and viewership had surged once more.
"So the audience stuck around," Vince observed, flipping through the figures. "They didn't just tune in for the pay-per-view."
"They did stick around," Lance confirmed, pulling out another document. "And even better, fans are really invested in the whole card now. It used to be straightforward: one women's program, one tag title feud, one world title feud, and the rest was just filler."
"Now? They're buzzing about Victor Cross, Randal Savage, and André. They're chatting about the Flashpoint Brothers and debating whether the Road Warriors played fair against Marcus Vane and Cal Bishop."
Vince smiled, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "That's exactly what I wanted. When people care about the entire card instead of just the main event, you know you've got a thriving promotion."
"The fans are treating every single segment like it's important," Lance agreed. He closed the folder, his tone shifting slightly.
"But there's something else. Contracts. A lot of them are up for renewal in the next few months—Eddie Prince, Diego Cortez, Marcus Vane, Cal Bishop, Nina Clarkson, Maya Hart, and several others."
"Start negotiations right away," Vince said without missing a beat. "Every single one of them."
Lance paused for a moment. "There's a catch. The five wrestlers from NPJW are coming on board soon. Our roster is already growing quickly. If we keep adding talent, people are going to start grumbling about television time. If wrestlers are stuck backstage week after week, morale will dip, and they'll start looking for other options."
Vince sat there, taking in the warning in silence. Lance had a point; any growth that came at the cost of locker room morale was pointless. After a moment of contemplation, a sly grin began to form on Vince's face.
"Lance... let's expand the shows."
Lance blinked, a frown creasing his forehead. "What do you mean by that?"
"We're going to give more people a chance on television. We'll make it happen."
"How are we going to do that?"
Vince leaned back in his chair, exuding confidence. "Just leave the details to me."
Lance recognized that look all too well. Whenever Vince wore that smile, it meant a bold idea was about to shake things up in the business.
The next morning, a heavy atmosphere settled over NPJW headquarters. Every wrestler had gathered in the locker room after Yoichi called an emergency meeting. The sting of their recent loss at Promotion Wars still lingered, and the room was filled with silence—no one dared to speak or smile.
Yoichi stood at the front, clutching a single sheet of paper, his expression unreadable. His assistant beside him looked visibly anxious.
"As per the stipulations..." Yoichi began, his voice resonating in the stillness, "...IRW has officially submitted the names of the five talents they wish to sign."
A wave of anxious murmurs swept through the room. A few wrestlers bowed their heads, bracing themselves for the news.
Yoichi slowly unfolded the paper. "The first name... Rodney Anoa'i." (YOKOZUNA)
The locker room fell into a stunned silence. Rodney himself appeared genuinely shocked, blinking in disbelief. While some wrestlers shot him envious glances, most offered respectful nods—it was no surprise that IRW would go after NPJW's undefeated World Champion first.
Yoichi tightened his jaw. "I saw that coming." He muttered.
He glanced back at the sheet. "The second name... Bob Orton."
Bob was momentarily frozen, his eyes widening in disbelief. He had genuinely thought his best days were behind him and that IRW would only focus on younger talent; he never imagined his name would actually make the cut.
A long, heavy sigh of relief escaped him as several veterans patted him on the back, offering quiet congratulations.
"The third selection..." Yoichi announced, cutting through the rising murmurs, "...Rocky Johnson."
Rocky let out a smooth chuckle and shook his head, a wide grin lighting up his face. "Well, look at that! Didn't see that coming."
"The fourth selection," Yoichi continued, shifting his gaze toward the women's locker room, "...Akiko Tanaka."
Akiko gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in sheer disbelief. The shock quickly melted into tears of joy as her friends rushed in, wrapping her in tight hugs to celebrate her unexpected leap to the big stage.
Yoichi took a moment, inhaling deeply before revealing the final name. "And the fifth selection... Ken Hayashi."
A heavy silence enveloped the room. Ken squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a slow, quiet breath as the weight of the news sank in.
Five key members of their roster, officially gone.
Yoichi instinctively crumpled the paper in frustration, his jaw clenched as he stared at the remaining roster. His assistant stepped forward cautiously to address the chosen five. "Those selected are free to start immediate contract negotiations with IRW."