Chapter 212: 197. Crazy Match
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The crowd couldn't believe it. Sandro didn't stop. He pulled Drew up, and ran to the ropes attempting his signature move, Dragon Twist Cutter. But Drew slipped out, shoving Sandro into the ropes. On the rebound, Drew finally hit his new finisher, a modified big boot that he took off the boot of his leg, and his right boot hit Sandro squarely in the face, which was out of nowhere!
Drew collapsed on top of Sandro, too exhausted to hook the leg.
"One… Two… THR—NO!"
The crowd erupted again, not expecting that both men could continue to kick out, the commentators also had the same reaction.
One of the commentators with both of his hands at his head said, "HOW did he kick out?! And that move Drew had just executed was brutal, it was a new arsenal that he had showcased"
His partner, on the other hand, stood up from his seat, "I have no idea, but it's definitely a brutal move that almost knocked Sandro's head off! This match is beyond championship level, it's legacy defining!"
Drew's eyes were wild now, a mix of fury and disbelief. He pounded the mat, then grabbed Sandro, hoisting him up onto his shoulders, and hit an Alabama slam! But Drew didn't cover. Instead, he dragged Sandro up again, and hit a sit out powerbomb!
After that Drew used the position to cover.
"One… Two… THR—NO!"
Sandro's shoulder shot up again to the amazement of everyone present.
Drew meanwhile screamed in frustration, and slam his hand on the mat. Then he climbed the turnbuckle—a rare sight for the powerhouse. He leaped, going for a flying elbow drop, but Sandro using the last ounce of his strength managed to roll away! And Drew crashed hard.
Both men were down again, the crowd on their feet, chanting, "This is awesome!"
Slowly, Sandro crawled to Drew, pulling him up and hitting a snap dragon suplex! Drew folded like an accordion. Sandro wasn't done. He hit the ropes, springboarding off the middle rope, springboard moonsault!
He hit Drew right on the chest, and Sandro hooked Drew's leg going for the cover.
"One… Two… Thr—NO!"
The arena was shaking. The crowd's energy had transcended from simple cheers to a chaotic symphony of passion, disbelief, and raw emotion. Chants of "THIS IS AWESOME!" echoed like anthems, accompanied by rhythmic clapping that made the air feel electric.
Sandro lay sprawled on the mat, his chest heaving, both hands covering his face. His eyes peeked through his fingers, wide with disbelief. How? That was the only question racing through his mind. How did Drew McIntyre kick out after everything? The snap dragon suplex, the springboard moonsault, it should've been enough.
Seeing the frustration on Sandri's face, the commentators picked that up saying, "Look at Sandro's face. He's in absolute shock. I mean… how do you keep someone like Drew McIntyre down tonight?"
The other commentators agreed but had something of his own he wanted to say, "It's unreal. And what's even more shocking is that Drew, who's known for bending the rules, hasn't resorted to a single dirty tactic. He's fighting with nothing but grit and honor. This isn't the Drew we're used to, and it's turning this into something legendary!"
Sandro rolled to his side, slapping the mat in frustration before slowly pulling himself up using the ropes, his legs wobbling under him.
Sweat poured from his face, dripping onto the canvas below. Every breath burned, but the fire in his eyes refused to die. He staggered toward Drew, whose chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, his face glazed with sweat, jaw slacks from exhaustion.
With a grunt, Sandro grabbed Drew by the hair, dragging him up to his shaky feet. Drew's legs buckled, forcing him down to one knee. Sandro's eyes narrowed, a flicker of determination returning. He knew what had to be done.
He planted his boot square into Drew's knee with a sharp kick, THWACK! Forcing Drew onto both knees, leaving his face vulnerable. The crowd knew what was coming. They surged with anticipation as Sandro backed into the ropes, rebounding with speed fueled by desperation.
The Dragon's Shot! The modified shining wizard connected flush, Sandro's knee crashing against Drew's jaw with brutal precision. Drew's head snapped back, his body slumping forward like a puppet with its strings cut.
The crowd erupted—"OH MY GOD!" chants filling the arena. Everyone expected Sandro to go for the cover. It was the logical choice. But Sandro didn't.
Instead, with a wild, almost unhinged look in his eyes, Sandro stood back up, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his face. He wasn't done. No, this wasn't about just winning anymore. This was about finishing it definitively. The commentators were shocked and confused as to why Sandro didn't pin Drew.
"Wait… he's not pinning him? What's Sandro doing? Drew's OUT!"
"This isn't just about the title anymore. Sandro's sending a message. Drew's resilience has pushed him to a place we've never seen before!"
Sandro bent down, gripping Drew's lifeless frame, positioning him upright into a kneeling stance again. The crowd buzzed with confusion and excitement, what was he planning? The commentators were equally bewildered.
Sandro didn't wait. He sprinted, not towards the front ropes like before, but to the ropes behind Drew, bouncing off with blistering speed. He charged back, BOOM! Another Dragon's Shot! But this time, to the back of Drew's head.
The sickening THWACK of knee meeting skull echoed through the arena like a gunshot. The crowd gasped and roared in unison. Some even covered their mouths, unable to believe the brutality they'd just witnessed.
One of the commentators seeing this shouts over the roar of the crowd, "GOOD LORD! The back of his head! Sandro just hit the Dragon's Shot from behind! That was VICIOUS!"
The other commentator was half whispering as he was stunned by the display he had seen, "I've never seen Sandro this brutal before. But maybe… maybe he had to tonight. Drew's resilience tonight is beyond human, beyond what we've seen from him. This was Sandro's equalizer."
Drew collapsed face first into the mat, completely motionless. His body didn't twitch, didn't flinch, just lifeless in the center of the ring. Sandro, breathing heavily, stared down at him, his face a mixture of exhaustion, disbelief, and maybe even a little guilt.
But the match wasn't over yet. Sandro dropped to his knees, flipping Drew over with trembling hands, hooking both legs with everything he had left.
The referee slid into position. And the crowd seeing this chanted alongside the referee as he did the count, "ONE! TWO! THREE!!!"
DING DING DING!
The bell rang, but the crowd's deafening roar nearly drowned it out. Some fans jumped to their feet, others threw their hands over their heads in shock. Chants of "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" erupted, the arena vibrating with raw, unfiltered energy.
The ring announcer seeing this announces the result of the match, "HERE IS YOUR WINNER… AND STILL FCW FLORIDA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… SAAAAANDRO ZHAAAAANG!"
Sandro rolled off Drew, collapsing onto his back, both men lying motionless as the reality of the battle they'd just endured washed over them. The referee retrieved the championship, kneeling beside Sandro and gently placing it across his chest.
The commentators remained silent for a moment, letting the crowd's reaction speak volumes before finally breaking the silence.
The first one had a soft, voice filled with emotion, "I don't think I've ever seen anything like this. That wasn't just a wrestling match… that was a war."
The other one agrees with his partner's comment, "And look at Sandro. That's not the face of someone who's celebrating. That's the face of someone who had to dig deeper than ever before. He had to become something else to survive this."
After what felt like an eternity, Sandro sat up, cradling the championship in his arms, his face etched with exhaustion and pride. The crowd showered him with cheers, chanting his name, "SAN-DRO! SAN-DRO!"
But then… something unexpected happened.
Drew stirred. Slowly, groggily, he pushed himself up, his face battered, jaw swollen, eyes glassy but filled with defiance. The crowd gave him a standing ovation, not because they liked him, but because they respected the hell out of what he'd just done.
Sandro, still seated, locked eyes with Drew. There was no hatred. No animosity. Just mutual respect is carved from the fires of battle.
Drew crawled toward Sandro, his body trembling with exhaustion. Then, in an act that shocked everyone, Drew extended his hand.
The crowd fell silent for a brief moment, watching, waiting.
Sandro looked down at Drew's hand, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and shook it.
The arena exploded. A moment of pure respect. Two warriors, acknowledging each other's greatness. "THAT is what wrestling is all about. This, this is why we love it."
"Tonight wasn't about heroes or villains. It was about the heart. It was about honor. And these two men left everything in that ring."
As Drew exited the ring, limping up the ramp, he turned one last time to nod at Sandro, who stood tall in the center of the ring, championship raised high above his head.
The final image was Sandro, battered but unbroken, holding the FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship under the blinding arena lights, surrounded by a sea of fans chanting his name, a true champion in every sense of the word.
As Sandro made his way up the ramp, the adrenaline slowly began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. The cheers of the crowd still echoed faintly behind him, but it felt distant now, like a memory already fading into the past.
The FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship rested on his shoulder, its weight both literal and symbolic, a testament to the match he had just shared with Drew.
Pushing through the curtain into the Gorilla position, the atmosphere shifted from roaring chaos to a more intimate, buzzing hum. Crew members and fellow wrestlers stood by monitors, still catching their breath from the spectacle they'd just witnessed. But Sandro's attention immediately locked onto a familiar scene.
There, leaning against a crate with an ice pack pressed against the side of his neck, was Drew. His face was battered, jaw slightly swollen, sweat still dripping from his hair. But the exhaustion didn't hide the grin spread across his face as he exchanged words with none other than Dusty Rhodes and Steve Keirn.
"…I'm telling you, kid," Dusty was saying, his signature charisma shining through even in casual conversation, "that right there? That was special. I've seen a lot in my day, but you, tonight, you hit a different level, baby."
Steve nodded in agreement, arms crossed, his expression serious but filled with pride. "We've never seen you like that, Drew. Maybe it's time you think about flying solo, focus on yourself for a bit."
Drew chuckled hoarsely, shaking his head slightly. "I appreciate that, really. But I'm still enjoying the run with Stu. Feels like we've got more to do together, y'know? Wouldn't sit right with me to leave him hanging."
Sandro had stopped a few steps away, observing the interaction with a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. There was something heartwarming about seeing his friend being recognized for what they'd both poured into that ring.
Deciding not to linger in the shadows, Sandro finally approached, his footsteps drawing the trio's attention. Dusty, Steve, and Drew turned to face him, their faces lighting up with acknowledgment.
Without a word, Drew extended his fist, and Sandro met it with his own in a firm bump. It wasn't just a greeting, it was a silent exchange of respect, an unspoken acknowledgment of the war they'd just waged together.
Drew broke the silence with a grin, his voice raspy but filled with genuine warmth. "Man, I don't know what it is with us, but even without much training or planning… we just click, you know? It's like we've still got that awareness of each other from back when me and Stu were in the rivalry storyline with you and Kofi."
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 19 (2009)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA
Brand: FCW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style
Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)
Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions & 1 FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion