"Challenge me?!"
El Condor Pasa's ears shot up, eyes widening in disbelief.
She didn't mishear, right? This strange, black-clad figure actually wanted to challenge her?!
It was the first time in days anyone had dared to issue her a challenge. Most trainers bolted the moment they saw her—like they'd just run into some prehistoric beast. The few arrogant ones who'd stayed behind were all flattened in humiliating defeat.
But this mysterious, confident challenger—he instantly made her think of him, the man who had stirred something deep inside her heart.
Could it be…
"You're the mysterious man from the Three Goddesses statue?!" El Condor Pasa sprang to her feet, eyes burning as she stared hard at Mizuno, breathing quick and heavy.
Unlike those fragile trainers who collapsed at the first touch, this black-clad person radiated an aura of hidden strength—something strangely reminiscent of her father.
Even though she couldn't see his face, her gut told her: this was the one she'd been searching for.
"After all these days, you've finally appeared!"
Lowering her stance, El Condor Pasa's whole body tensed. Her earlier gloom was gone—now replaced by a fierce, electrified energy, ready to burst forward at any second and slam Mizuno into the mat.
"?!"
Mizuno stiffened, taking several steps back, frantically waving his hands.
"No, no, no! I'm not that guy—I'm just one of his underlings!'' he blurted, spinning up another fake identity on the spot.
"Underling?" El Condor Pasa froze mid-pounce, confused.
That mysterious man had underlings?
"That's right!" Mizuno nodded hard, forcing on a cocky smirk. He kicked one leg out, crossed his arms, and struck the most obnoxiously delinquent pose imaginable. If not for the mask, his face would've screamed wannabe punk.
"I heard you've been lookin' for me—uh, I mean, for my boss. You got a problem or somethin'?"
"Your boss?" El Condor Pasa frowned, even more puzzled.
This guy didn't resemble her memory at all. The mysterious man before the statue had been radiant, bold, and magnetic. This one looked like the kind of thug who shook people down for lunch money.
Not just different—worlds apart.
So she easily believed him. Of course the real man wouldn't show up himself; powerful people always had underlings to handle the dirty work. Her father had been the same.
"If you're his underling, then you must know where he is, right? Please—tell me! I need to meet him!" she pleaded, eyes bright with urgency.
"No can do." Mizuno shook his head, letting out a smug little laugh. "Meetin' my boss ain't that simple. First, you gotta pass some of my sinister, cunning demands…"
"Fine! As long as you let me see him, I'll agree to anything!" El Condor Pasa answered instantly, without a moment's hesitation.
"…" Mizuno froze, at a loss for words.
You're way too trusting! he screamed internally. What if I'd asked for something indecent?!
Of course, if she had agreed to that, he'd probably have died on the spot.
"It's simple," he said at last, pointing to himself. "Defeat me, and—wait! We haven't started yet!"
He barely finished before El Condor Pasa lunged forward.
"Huh?" She was already right in front of him, hands an inch from his waist, ready to throw him down—only stopping because Mizuno shouted mid-panic.
"So when do we start? Hurry up! I can't wait!"
Gulp.
Mizuno swallowed hard, backing up fast.
"I know you're eager, but hold your horses. We need a proper place for this match first…"
He glanced around. This spot wasn't exactly private; someone could walk by any minute. The last thing he needed was to be caught wrestling El Condor Pasa in broad daylight.
"I know a place on campus—spacious, out of sight. Follow me."
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Mizuno headed toward the same back-hill warehouse where he'd twice been cornered before.
Sure, if he lost, El Condor Pasa might rip his mask off and strip him by wrestling tradition—and no one would hear him scream—but with Master Jin's secret move under his belt, he figured he had a fighting chance.
"Mm-hm!" El Condor Pasa followed eagerly, her steps light with anticipation.
As they walked, Mizuno laid down the rules:
"For this match, we'll follow standard wrestling rules. Pin your opponent to the mat for ten seconds, you win. But we're tweaking one rule…"
"In this match, I'll only defend. No attacks from me."
"You have thirty minutes. If you pin me for ten consecutive seconds within that time, you win—and I'll tell you where my boss is."
"But if thirty minutes pass and you still can't hold me down, you lose—and you have to give up looking for him. Deal?"
It was the only setup that gave him any chance. Even with his new technique, he couldn't possibly overpower an Uma Musume. The best he could do was endure.
"Hmm…" El Condor Pasa thought for a moment, then nodded. "Deal."
She saw no reason to refuse. Thirty minutes was more than enough time to crush a single human.
...
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the secluded warehouse behind the academy's back hills.
Mizuno swept the floor, stacked boxes for padding, and spread out a mat—creating a makeshift wrestling ring.
El Condor Pasa moved to shut the warehouse door, but Mizuno—traumatized by past close calls—quickly stopped her, leaving it cracked open, just in case.
"Can we start now?" El Condor Pasa kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the mat in knee-high white socks, impatience practically radiating off her.
"You sure you don't wanna change?" Mizuno asked warily, eyeing her school uniform. Wrestling in a skirt… this could get awkward fast.
"No need," she said firmly. Her focus was on one thing only: victory.
"Alright then…" Mizuno sighed, wiping his boot soles with disinfectant before stepping onto the mat.
He pulled out his phone. "Starting the timer—hey, wait a sec!"
Too late.
"Super Spicy Naked Choke!"
In an instant, El Condor Pasa lunged, her speed a blur. Mizuno yelped, tossing his phone aside.
She aimed to end it immediately—slam, hold, count to ten, and be done. It had worked flawlessly on every opponent so far.
But just as her hands brushed his waist, Mizuno moved.
He shifted, pressing against her arm, ducked low, slipped beneath her armpit, and came up behind her in one smooth motion.
"Got you!"
"Huh?!"
Before she could even react, Mizuno locked his arms and legs around her—unleashing the technique he'd paid so dearly (and humiliatingly) to learn.
"Love-Strong-as-Gold Seven-Day Lock!"
His body coiled around hers like tempered steel, every limb an anchor. The technique didn't rely on strength—it converted endurance into control, letting the weak restrain the strong.
El Condor Pasa froze.
"This move…?!"
Her eyes widened in shock. She didn't even struggle—only turned her head slightly, asking in disbelief:
"What's your relationship with my Papa?"