Categories > Books > Harry Potter > A Perfect Ten
The weeks flew by, and before long, the day of the Triple J-Crown Tournament arrived. Percy, Penelope, and Lucius traveled to Japan, where the tournament was set to take place. As they arrived at the arena, Percy couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. Japan was the birthplace of many legendary fighters, and now he was here, ready to etch his name into the annals of history.
However, as Percy and Lucius met with the tournament officials, a shocking revelation was made. The tournament would consist of a series of “Death Matches,” each one more brutal than the last. Percy’s first match would be against Jushin Thunder Liger, the FMW International Junior Heavyweight Champion, in a barbed wire match. In this match, the ring ropes would be replaced with stands of barbed wire, turning the ring into a literal death trap.
Percy’s heart skipped a beat. This was beyond anything he had ever faced before. But instead of fear, he felt a thrill of excitement course through him. This was his chance to prove that he was truly unstoppable, that no challenge was too great for him. Lucius, always the strategist, saw the same glint in Percy’s eyes and knew that his fighter was ready for whatever lay ahead.
The night of the first match arrived, and the atmosphere in the arena was electric. Fans packed the stands, eager to witness the carnage that would unfold. Percy, now fully in his Ryker Black persona, stepped into the ring with a calm confidence that belied the danger he was about to face.
Jushin Thunder Liger, a legendary figure in the wrestling world, entered the ring to a thunderous ovation. The crowd revered him, knowing the skill and resilience he brought to every match. But Percy was unfazed. He had studied Liger, knew his moves, and was determined to win at any cost.
The bell rang, and the match began.
Percy’s strategy was simple: dominate and survive. He went after Liger with a ferocity that left the crowd stunned. He overpowered Liger, using his size and strength to gain the upper hand. But Liger was no pushover. He fought back with lightning-fast strikes and high-flying maneuvers, trying to keep Percy off balance.
Despite Percy’s dominance, the barbed wire soon became a factor. Liger managed to send Percy into the barbed wire several times, each impact tearing into Percy’s flesh. The pain was excruciating, but Percy gritted his teeth and pushed through it. He refused to let the barbed wire slow him down.
With blood dripping from his wounds, Percy finally caught Liger in his signature move, the Perfectplex. With a sickening crunch, Liger was slammed to the mat, and Percy bridged into the pinning position. The referee counted to three, and the bell rang.
Percy had won.
As the referee raised Percy’s hand in victory, the crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps. Percy, battered and bloodied, stood tall, his eyes blazing with triumph. He had survived the first round, and now he was moving on to the semifinals.
Back in the locker room, Percy collapsed onto a bench, the adrenaline starting to wear off. The pain from his injuries was intense, but the morphine dulled it just enough for him to function. Lucius and Penelope both rushed to his side, concern etched on their faces.
"Percy, you did it," Penelope whispered, tears in her eyes as she gently wiped the blood from his face. "But… you’re hurt. You need to rest."
Lucius, ever the pragmatist, handed Percy a bottle of water and nodded in approval. "You fought like a true champion, Percy. But the tournament’s not over yet. You’ve got to be ready for the next match."
Percy nodded, his eyes still burning with determination. "I will be," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m going to win this tournament, no matter what it takes."
As he sat there, surrounded by the people who cared about him, Percy knew that he was walking a dangerous line. But the thrill of victory, the taste of success, was too intoxicating to resist.
Percy’s wounds were patched up with the precision of a seasoned medical team, but the thrill of his victories overshadowed the pain. His mind was consumed with the image of the newly won championship belt, now gleaming in the dim light of the locker room. It was his third title in a short span of time, and the thrill of it, the rush of adrenaline, was what kept him going. Each victory only fueled his desire for more.
As he prepared for the semifinals of the Triple J-Crown Tournament, Percy couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. The next match would be against Koji Kanemoto, the FMW Brass Knuckles Champion, in a Taipei Death Match—a brutal contest where the competitors’ fists were taped, coated with super glue, and then rolled in real broken glass. The mere thought of it would have terrified most, but for Percy, it was just another step on his path to greatness.
When the time came for the match, Percy’s hands were wrapped and dipped into the broken glass. The sharp edges bit into his flesh, but he ignored the pain, focusing instead on the task ahead. Koji Kanemoto was a seasoned fighter, known for his brutal, unrelenting style, but Percy was determined to take him down.
The match began, and the two men clashed in the center of the ring. The arena was filled with a tense silence, the crowd unsure whether to cheer or hold their breath. The match was less about wrestling and more about survival. With each punch, the glass embedded in their fists tore into flesh, drawing blood and leaving gruesome wounds in its wake.
Percy took control early, using his size and strength to overpower Koji. He landed blow after blow, each punch cutting deeper into Koji’s skin. But Koji was not one to back down easily. He fought back with equal ferocity, his glass-covered fists slashing across Percy’s chest and face, leaving trails of blood in their wake.
The ring quickly became a battlefield, the canvas stained with the blood of both fighters. The brutality of the match was unlike anything Percy had ever experienced, but he thrived in it. The pain became fuel for his rage, and he pushed forward, determined to win.
In the end, it was Percy’s relentless drive that won the match. With a final, brutal combination of punches, he knocked Koji to the mat. Percy’s knuckles were raw and bleeding, but he ignored the pain as he dropped to the ground and covered Koji for the pin. The referee counted to three, and the bell rang.
Percy had won his fourth championship.
As he stood in the center of the ring, blood dripping from his hands and face, the crowd erupted into cheers. The thrill of victory surged through him once more, momentarily dulling the pain that racked his body. Another title, another step closer to being the best there ever was.
But there was still one match left. The final match of the Triple J-Crown Tournament, where Percy would face Hayabusa, one of the most revered and feared fighters in FMW. Hayabusa had already proven himself by winning four championships in the tournament: the FMW British Commonwealth Champion, FMW Welterweight Champion, FMW Australian Light Heavyweight Champion, and FMW African Light Heavyweight Champion.
All eight championships would be at stake in the final match.
It would be a Fire Deathmatch.
As Percy looked at his newly won championship belt, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of fear and anticipation. The Fire Deathmatch was one of the most dangerous and unpredictable matches in FMW, where the ring was surrounded by flames, and the heat alone could sap the strength of even the most seasoned fighters.
But Percy was undeterred. He had come this far, endured so much, and he wasn’t about to back down now. The thought of holding all eight championship belts at once sent a shiver down his spine. It was an opportunity that few would ever get, and Percy was determined to seize it.
With his wounds patched up and his mind focused, Percy prepared for the final battle of the Triple J-Crown Tournament. As he left the locker room and made his way to the ring, the roar of the crowd echoed in his ears, a reminder of what was at stake.
This was it. The final test. And Percy was ready to do whatever it took to become the ultimate champion.
However, as Percy and Lucius met with the tournament officials, a shocking revelation was made. The tournament would consist of a series of “Death Matches,” each one more brutal than the last. Percy’s first match would be against Jushin Thunder Liger, the FMW International Junior Heavyweight Champion, in a barbed wire match. In this match, the ring ropes would be replaced with stands of barbed wire, turning the ring into a literal death trap.
Percy’s heart skipped a beat. This was beyond anything he had ever faced before. But instead of fear, he felt a thrill of excitement course through him. This was his chance to prove that he was truly unstoppable, that no challenge was too great for him. Lucius, always the strategist, saw the same glint in Percy’s eyes and knew that his fighter was ready for whatever lay ahead.
The night of the first match arrived, and the atmosphere in the arena was electric. Fans packed the stands, eager to witness the carnage that would unfold. Percy, now fully in his Ryker Black persona, stepped into the ring with a calm confidence that belied the danger he was about to face.
Jushin Thunder Liger, a legendary figure in the wrestling world, entered the ring to a thunderous ovation. The crowd revered him, knowing the skill and resilience he brought to every match. But Percy was unfazed. He had studied Liger, knew his moves, and was determined to win at any cost.
The bell rang, and the match began.
Percy’s strategy was simple: dominate and survive. He went after Liger with a ferocity that left the crowd stunned. He overpowered Liger, using his size and strength to gain the upper hand. But Liger was no pushover. He fought back with lightning-fast strikes and high-flying maneuvers, trying to keep Percy off balance.
Despite Percy’s dominance, the barbed wire soon became a factor. Liger managed to send Percy into the barbed wire several times, each impact tearing into Percy’s flesh. The pain was excruciating, but Percy gritted his teeth and pushed through it. He refused to let the barbed wire slow him down.
With blood dripping from his wounds, Percy finally caught Liger in his signature move, the Perfectplex. With a sickening crunch, Liger was slammed to the mat, and Percy bridged into the pinning position. The referee counted to three, and the bell rang.
Percy had won.
As the referee raised Percy’s hand in victory, the crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps. Percy, battered and bloodied, stood tall, his eyes blazing with triumph. He had survived the first round, and now he was moving on to the semifinals.
Back in the locker room, Percy collapsed onto a bench, the adrenaline starting to wear off. The pain from his injuries was intense, but the morphine dulled it just enough for him to function. Lucius and Penelope both rushed to his side, concern etched on their faces.
"Percy, you did it," Penelope whispered, tears in her eyes as she gently wiped the blood from his face. "But… you’re hurt. You need to rest."
Lucius, ever the pragmatist, handed Percy a bottle of water and nodded in approval. "You fought like a true champion, Percy. But the tournament’s not over yet. You’ve got to be ready for the next match."
Percy nodded, his eyes still burning with determination. "I will be," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m going to win this tournament, no matter what it takes."
As he sat there, surrounded by the people who cared about him, Percy knew that he was walking a dangerous line. But the thrill of victory, the taste of success, was too intoxicating to resist.
Percy’s wounds were patched up with the precision of a seasoned medical team, but the thrill of his victories overshadowed the pain. His mind was consumed with the image of the newly won championship belt, now gleaming in the dim light of the locker room. It was his third title in a short span of time, and the thrill of it, the rush of adrenaline, was what kept him going. Each victory only fueled his desire for more.
As he prepared for the semifinals of the Triple J-Crown Tournament, Percy couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. The next match would be against Koji Kanemoto, the FMW Brass Knuckles Champion, in a Taipei Death Match—a brutal contest where the competitors’ fists were taped, coated with super glue, and then rolled in real broken glass. The mere thought of it would have terrified most, but for Percy, it was just another step on his path to greatness.
When the time came for the match, Percy’s hands were wrapped and dipped into the broken glass. The sharp edges bit into his flesh, but he ignored the pain, focusing instead on the task ahead. Koji Kanemoto was a seasoned fighter, known for his brutal, unrelenting style, but Percy was determined to take him down.
The match began, and the two men clashed in the center of the ring. The arena was filled with a tense silence, the crowd unsure whether to cheer or hold their breath. The match was less about wrestling and more about survival. With each punch, the glass embedded in their fists tore into flesh, drawing blood and leaving gruesome wounds in its wake.
Percy took control early, using his size and strength to overpower Koji. He landed blow after blow, each punch cutting deeper into Koji’s skin. But Koji was not one to back down easily. He fought back with equal ferocity, his glass-covered fists slashing across Percy’s chest and face, leaving trails of blood in their wake.
The ring quickly became a battlefield, the canvas stained with the blood of both fighters. The brutality of the match was unlike anything Percy had ever experienced, but he thrived in it. The pain became fuel for his rage, and he pushed forward, determined to win.
In the end, it was Percy’s relentless drive that won the match. With a final, brutal combination of punches, he knocked Koji to the mat. Percy’s knuckles were raw and bleeding, but he ignored the pain as he dropped to the ground and covered Koji for the pin. The referee counted to three, and the bell rang.
Percy had won his fourth championship.
As he stood in the center of the ring, blood dripping from his hands and face, the crowd erupted into cheers. The thrill of victory surged through him once more, momentarily dulling the pain that racked his body. Another title, another step closer to being the best there ever was.
But there was still one match left. The final match of the Triple J-Crown Tournament, where Percy would face Hayabusa, one of the most revered and feared fighters in FMW. Hayabusa had already proven himself by winning four championships in the tournament: the FMW British Commonwealth Champion, FMW Welterweight Champion, FMW Australian Light Heavyweight Champion, and FMW African Light Heavyweight Champion.
All eight championships would be at stake in the final match.
It would be a Fire Deathmatch.
As Percy looked at his newly won championship belt, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of fear and anticipation. The Fire Deathmatch was one of the most dangerous and unpredictable matches in FMW, where the ring was surrounded by flames, and the heat alone could sap the strength of even the most seasoned fighters.
But Percy was undeterred. He had come this far, endured so much, and he wasn’t about to back down now. The thought of holding all eight championship belts at once sent a shiver down his spine. It was an opportunity that few would ever get, and Percy was determined to seize it.
With his wounds patched up and his mind focused, Percy prepared for the final battle of the Triple J-Crown Tournament. As he left the locker room and made his way to the ring, the roar of the crowd echoed in his ears, a reminder of what was at stake.
This was it. The final test. And Percy was ready to do whatever it took to become the ultimate champion.
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