Blackjack vs Hiro Shin-Mozas (I Quit Match) [No Contest]

[The Number Three]

The pressure on his knees vanished when Hiro dropped him to turn and run. He grunted as he rolled over, fire burned in his knees from the assault. He stood up into the steam and let it wash over him. The camera zoomed in, shocked, giving the audience a first hand view as Three seemed to wash himself of in the cloud of high pressure steam.

Finishing his display, satisfied that he has worked out the pains inflicted by Hiro, Three set out to follow the Ethnic Enigma.  

[HiroShinMozas]

Hiro had no idea of the depraved, horrific scene behind him as Three bathed in the steam. It was for the best, as it may have caused him to stop and watch on as the crowd did -- but instead, it let him shove his way through the closed doors and out...into a closed off section of the parking lot. It seemed as though this was a spot for maintenence workers, but what was important was that the cold 46 degree breeze was going right to work on cooling down Hiro's burning body. The Ethnic Enigma feel to his hands and knees and began to crawl out further into the pavement, getting himself as far from the door as he could with Three hot on his tail.  

[The Number Three]

Three had no trouble following the trail of bloody smears Hiro left in his wake. The lead Hiro had gained as Three showered away the aches of the match was lost thanks to that trail. Three turned the corner and stepped out onto the cold as Hiro crawled further into the empty garage. Steam rose from Three’s body wafting around him in the chilly night air.

Three locked eyes with Hiro grinning. The black blood that had coated his face was gone, his nose no longer smashed to the side. He twisted his neck to the side cracking it, and showing the smooth pristine skin that had just moments before been gashed open. “It doesn't matter what you do, how hard you fight. You can't beat me. Not as you are.

Quit now and save yourself the agony Hiro.” Three flicked his wrist and tossed a microphone he hadn't been holding to Hiro's feet. “This is your second chance.”  

[HiroShinMozas]

The microphone dropped down to Hiro's level, the Ethnic Enigma stopping his crawling and turning his body to face Three, sitting up. As the microphone rolled over, Hiro picked it up, looking at it for a moment with serious consideration. If he quit, he'd go to hell -- if he kept going, he'd surely die. It looked as though this was all turning into a lose-lose situation no matter how you sliced it. He brought the microphone to his mouth as the cameramen made it outside to recapture the action for all to hear and see.

"Three, I...I don't know, I don't know what lies on the other end of this, but I do know that just like when Blackjack stabbed me and I fought for my life in that hospital, I'm not gonna be quitting here either."

A loud cheer from the crowd could be picked up outside by the two wrestlers as Hiro made it very clear to Three his intention: to ride this out until he'd won. The microphone was tossed back to the demon and Hiro started to push himself back to his feet, ready for the umpteenth round in this battle to commense.  

[The Number Three]

Three wasn't surprised. He could read the desperation in Hiro’s eyes. This was a man who wanted his career to ultimately and fully destroy him. Giving up without some kind of career threatening momento would not be happening. Three was more than willing to accommodate him.

Three caught the microphone and flicked his wrist, making the microphone disappear. Another flick of his wrist produced a larger dark object. Three held out a blackened steel gauntlet as he slipped it over his right hand. “Then let's put an end to this.”  

[HiroShinMozas]

"What the ********, man..." Hiro said under his breath, much less struggling to comprehend the appearance of an insane gauntlet out of no where, but more so because he'd gotten a better look at The Number Three and realized much of the damage he'd done was seemingly healed. This was growing to become an impossible task, especially if Three was virtually indestructable. The Ethnic Enigma sighed and began slowly trudging his way towards Three, keeping his hands up as if he was approaching center ring, and prepared for a slugfest that just may be the end of this match.