And so it comes back to this.

You know, I should kinda be happy. I mean, you know? I'm not even fulltime and bam! Anarchy X title shot again. Granted, I'm pretty sure I turned a couple of heads winning my last match, and not just the Easter Island kind. But I just can't help but feel like...I dunno.

This is all the same.

Plow through the midcard, annihilate everything in sight, win the Anarchy X title, lose it immediately because I'm distracted by something shiny.

How many times have you done this, Jinbo? How many times have we gotten through to this point and never bothered to reach for the NLW Title? Maybe I'm lazy. It's not the skill or the lack of anything like that. I know I'm good. I know I'm the best, even. But all in all, I just don't think I have the motivation.

I mean, look at this. Jin Royale vs. The Black Phoenix and Drake Munday. That's...what is this? I understand that I'm part time, you know? But MAN. The Black Phoenix. HAS NO ONE MENTIONED THAT THIS CHICK IS DEAD? EVERYONE'S COOL WITH THAT. Yeah, I know there's a mask but under that mask is PROBABLY SOME KINDA FUCKING ZOMBIE. I don't even WANNA take it off. I saw Zombie Strippers. I saw Shaun of the Dead. I had Jason Stone read Twilight and give me the Cliff's Notes version and you know what I learned?

THE UNDEAD FUCKIN' SUCK AT WRESTLING. Glittery Nosferatu over there ain't even the worry. I got fists like garlic and my moves are godlike enough to be holy. Nah, that's not what's bugging you, Jin Royale, no, no.

Drake Munday.

There is a very primary reason Drake Munday bothers you, and it's not his wrestling ability. It isn't his looks or the way he talks shit or anything like that. You're better than that. You've been down this road so many times they named it after you. Jin Royale Blvd, right across from Solid Godliness Avenue.

No, when it comes down to it, it is this, and someone can quote my oddly italicized inner monologue text:

Drake Munday is Jin Royale Lite.

You heard me.

Drake Munday is what Jin Royale would be like if I suddenly dropped a few pounds and decided that I needed some more bland to even it out a little. Drake Munday is Jin Royale, hold the skill. Drake Munday is Jin Royale, turn it down a notch. Drake Munday is that coffee you buy at Starbuck's because you just don't have the extra 50 cents to get Jin Royale properly. Drake Munday is 'Jin Royale but could you make him less good looking, maybe more pasty white, you know, cuz regular Jin Royale is just too much for a man like me?'.

Drake Munday is what you were 5 years ago, and that, Jin Royale, is exactly what bothers you.

I'm getting old. And that's why I'm running the same cycle I've always run.

Muscle memory.

------

Jin Royale basked in the sun, not unlike a large, muscular cat, at the top of Royale Incorporated's primary headquarters. For once, he did not have his trademark Ray-Bans. He did not have a half-opened box of Cheez-Its. Jason Stone was not on hand to steal said Cheez-Its and provide witty banter. Kass Rooks was not around to tell him what to do next, or to assist him in doing all manner of unmentionable things.

Instead, he looked calmly out from over the edge of the 20-story building, denim jacket and jeans wrinkling slightly, and he sighed.

Jin Royale was having a midlife crisis.

He looked over the entire Uprising card for the fifth time in as many minutes, matchups so well read that the paper looked wrinkled just by his eyes scanning left to right over and over. The scary part wasn't in his opponents, or even other potentially challenging matchups. To be honest, fear had long since been bred out of him in favor of grudging respect. And respect was a lot easier to deal with, grudging or not.

No, the fear was that he didn't really even have to do any research. He knew what all these guys could do because he'd be doing this for years. He'd gone through the wrestling business often and deep. 'I guess that's experience for you,' was what Jason Stone'd told him at the time. 'It means you don't have to do shit.'

Really?

'Really?' Jin asked for the fifth time as he set the program aside. 'Is this it?'

Not one to randomly go into a soliloquy out loud, Jin adjusted his collar and flipped open his cell phone, dialing Jason Stone's number as easily as breathing.

'This's Jason.' The voice on the other end was masked by some...odd muffled Japanese and clanging of sound effects.

Jin didn't pay any mind; he had bigger problems. 'Why am I old?'

'Basic principles of time and space, Jin.'

'I'm better than that.' He slid back into his chair with a sigh. 'Seriously, man, I think I'm feeling old.'

'Why? You're not even 30.'

Jin folded his left arm over himself. 'Doesn't mean I can't feel old. Midlife crisis, man. I'm halfway dead.'

'So you're gonna die at 56?'

'I could. What if I just fell asleep driving my car one day and drove off a cliff. ...OH MY GOD, I'D BE KILLED!' Jin dropped the phone, but luckily it was attached by a wrist strap to his wrist; this happened a lot.

'I dunno. Do something about it.'

'What is there to do? I mean, I could win the Anarchy X title, sure. But I've done that already. I could win even the NLW World Title but...EHHHHH. That involves work. Aren't I even the plucky underdog in this match?'

'Vegas odds give it 2:1 Royale.'

'Son of a bitch! I'm not even the underdog anymore!'

'Why do you gotta be the underdog, anyway? Or plucky?'

'Because that's *me*!' Jin rubbed his eyes. 'That's who I am! I'm the young crazy guy that's the main character that goes around fighting people and somehow winning through sheer force of will. That's my THING! I've been doing it my whole career! I can't be the wise old experienced Master Roshi dude that's some ancient old guy that's unstoppable. Not YET! It's not my time, man! I don't wanna be some secondary character in some guy's story.'

Jason Stone clucked his tongue. 'What's wrong with being a secondary character that used to be a main character?'

'...Well, no offense.'

Pause. '...Yeah, okay. So you don't know what to do about it, right?'

'Yeah, I mean...I don't know. I don't wanna just be a nameless veteran that wins all his matches through grizzled ring mastery. That's not me. I don't fit that archetype. And Drake Munday, he's just like...he's just what *I* was. Except not as good. He's like those old pictures of yourself in high school you find but never want to show anybody.'

'So do somethin' he doesn't have the balls to do.'

'Like what?' Jin swept his arm around; unfortunately, it was the arm holding the cell phone, so the conversation was forcibly paused for a moment.

'I dunno. Build something.' The Japanese got a bit louder and the sound of a drill was heard.

'Like wh-' Pause.

'Jin? You're doing that thing.'

'Yeah?'

'That thing where you have a crazyass idea.'

'Yeah...?'

'Keep doin' it. I think that's what you're looking for.'

'Thanks, Jason.' Jin flipped the cell phone closed, then immediately flipped it open again.

-----

As acting manager of Royale Incorporated's financial division, Shannon Jennings had bitten back a lot of questions about any bouts of sudden spending from Jin Royale. She didn't say a word when he ordered a giant Slap Chop. She had remained silent when he'd ordered $800 worth of blue peanut M&Ms. Mum was the word when Jin ordered a blow up doll of Jack Sullivan to plant in Jason's bed. But this?

Sitting at her desk in the dimly lit office, she looked at the piece of paper again.

'WANT:

2 TONS OF STEEL

80 SPRINGS (DON'T CARE WHAT SIZE)

30 TONS OF GARLIC (ANTI UNDEAD MISSILE)

4 MISSILES (HOLLOWED OUT FOR THE GARLIC)

REASONABLE FACSIMILE OF MY HEAD (WILLING TO WORK WITH THIS)

BIG NLW LOGO CHEST SHIELD

A SEAT FOR ME TO SIT IN

SOMEONE SMART

SOMEONE THAT'S SEEN VOLTRON

PUT UNDER PROJECT: JIN ROYALEOBO

- JIN ROYALE'

She looked up at her ceiling fan, not even bothering to sigh.

Kass was going to kill everything.