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Desperation flickers in his eyes, and in a last ditch effort, he tries to swing his free arm down low, attempting a sneaky low blow to Roode. But Sandro who was watching closely on the submission Roode put on Nick, noticed his attempt. "Don't even think about it, Nick!" Sandro warns, his voice sharp and firm. "I catch that, you're disqualified, and Roode wins!"
Nick freezes, his plan thwarted. His frustration is clear, but he knows Sandro isn't bluffing. Losing here? Not an option for him, as he wanted a title to decorate his beautiful waist and abs.
With no shortcuts left, Nick has to rely on sheer willpower. He digs deep, gritting his teeth as he starts crawling, inch by inch, toward the ropes. The fans seeing this began to erupt in a multitude of voices, a little bit of the fans chanted his name while the majority booed. Roode, realizing what's happening, shakes his head in disbelief.
"NO! Stay down!" Roode yells, wrenching back even harder.
But Nick refuses to be denied. His fingertips graze the bottom rope. Then, with one last surge, he lunges forward and grabs it.
The crowd explodes seeing this in cheers and jeers. Sandro immediately steps in. "Break it up, Roode!"
Roode ignores him, keeping the hold locked in.
"ONE!" Sandro starts counting.
"TWO!"
"THREE!"
Sandro yanks at Roode's arm, forcing the break.
Roode, breathing heavily, pushes himself up to his feet. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his mind still caught in the heat of the match. And then, in a moment of blind frustration, SLAP!
The entire arena gasps.
Roode just slapped Sandro who the referee of the match. Sandro's head turns slightly from the impact, but his body remains motionless. His jaw clenches, and his eyes darken as he slowly turns back to face Roode.
The crowd erupts into deafening boos at Roode's action, causing the face and fan favorite to receive a heel treatment.
Meanwhile, Roode's expression shifts from fury to immediate regret. He raises his hands, realizing his mistake.
"Sandro, man, I—I didn't mean—"
But Sandro isn't having it. His hand shoots up, pointing at the timekeeper. He's about to call for the bell. Roode's face turns pale as he realizes what's about to happen.
"No, no, wait—"
And before Sandro can finish the call—
BAM!
Nick Nemeth explodes from behind with a Zig Zag out of nowhere!
Roode's body whiplashes before crashing onto the mat, completely laid out as Nick goes for the pin. The crowd erupts in shock as Sandro instinctively drops down for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The bell rings. The match is over.
The ring announcer's voice booms across the arena:
"Here is your winner… and advancing to the final round of the FCW North American Championship tournament… Nick Nemeth!"
The crowd erupts into cheers, mixed with some boos from Roode's supporters.
Nick rolls off Roode, breathing heavily, his body drenched in sweat. He grins, sitting up with his arms raised. Sandro, still fuming from Roode's slap, holds Nick's arm up in victory before shaking his head and stepping away.
Roode stirs, coming to, his face filled with confusion and disbelief. He looks at Sandro, then at Nick, then at the crowd. His realization sets in, he just cost himself the match as his judgment is clouded in the what of the moment.
Nick, ever the showman, rolls out of the ring and stumbles up the ramp, throwing his arms in the air in celebration. He points at his head, mouthing cockily, "Smartest guy in the room!"
Roode slams his fists into the mat, furious. He glares at Sandro, who simply dusts off his hands, making it clear that Roode has no one to blame but himself.
The tension lingers in the air as Sandro picks up his FCW Florida Heavyweight Championship from ringside, slinging it over his shoulder. He glances back at Roode with a deadpan face, almost as if to say, "You did this to yourself."
Roode glares back, his fists clenched, breathing heavily. The seeds of a new rivalry have just been planted. And just like that, FCW Monday Night rolls on, but the impact of this match will be felt for a long time to come unbeknownst to the fans.
The crowd was still buzzing from the shocking conclusion of the previous match. Nick Nemeth had just pulled off a controversial win over Bobby Roode, thanks to Roode's own blind frustration leading to a crucial mistake. As Roode sat in the ring, seething, and Sandro Zhang walked away with an unbothered expression, the night rolled on.
The energy in the arena shifted as the next match was about to begin, the second semifinal of the FCW North American Championship Tournament.
The moment Kofi Kingston's entrance music hit, the crowd erupted in cheers. The upbeat, energetic melody set the tone as Kofi bounced out onto the stage, his usual infectious smile spreading across his face. He clapped his hands, hyping up the fans as he made his way down the ramp.
The ring announcer's voice boomed across the arena:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Falls Count Anywhere match and is the second semifinal match in the FCW North American Championship Tournament, and it's scheduled for one fall!"
The cheers intensified as the announcer continued.
"Introducing first, representing Dragon Boom, from Ghana, West Africa, weighing in at 212 pounds… Kofi Kingston!"
Kofi slid into the ring, bouncing off the ropes before standing in the center, throwing his hands in the air to rally the fans. He pointed to the crowd, leading them in rhythmic claps, getting them fully engaged in the moment.
But then…
BOOM!
Drew McIntyre's entrance music thundered through the speakers, and immediately, the crowd shifted into a mixed reaction, boos rang out from those who despised him, but there were still a vocal few who respected his brutality and presence.
Drew walked out, a slow and deliberate pace carrying him down the ramp, his piercing glare locked onto Kofi. The lights flickered around him, emphasizing the intensity of the brutal and powerful Scottish.
The ring announcer called out:
"And his opponent, representing The Empire, from Ayr, Scotland, weighing in at 245 pounds… Drew Mclntyre!"
McIntyre climbed the steel steps, stepping into the ring, never once breaking eye contact with Kofi. The two men stood inches apart in the center of the ring, the tension thick between them.
And before the referee could even signal for the bell—
BAM!
Drew threw a stiff right hand, smashing Kofi across the jaw!
Kofi staggered back, but instantly retaliated, firing a right of his own! The crowd roared as they started exchanging rapid punches, neither man backing down.
Seeing that there was no chance of separating them, the referee had no choice but to call for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The match was officially underway!
Drew quickly overpowered Kofi in the initial exchange, his raw strength proving too much. He forced Kofi back into the corner and began delivering brutal stomps to his midsection causing Kofi to fall down on the corner. Each stomp landed with a sickening impact, the referee stepped in to warn Drew to let up.
Drew took a few steps back, but only to build up momentum—
RUNNING KNEE STRIKE!
The force of Drew's knee colliding with Kofi's head sent him crumpling into the bottom of the turnbuckles. Drew then grabbed Kofi by the arm, yanked him up, and effortlessly tossed him across the ring with a belly to belly suplex.
Kofi hit the mat hard, but despite the punishment, he used the ropes to pull himself up. Drew, however, wasted no time. He charged forward—
Kofi ducks!
Drew ran right past him and rebounded off the ropes, coming back at full force—
DROP-KICK TO THE KNEE!
Kofi smartly targeted Drew's base, knocking him off balance. Wasting no time, Kofi hit the ropes and connected with a running forearm smash!
Drew fell, but quickly got back up, only for Kofi to send him right back down with another forearm smash.
The crowd fired up as Kofi kept the momentum going, running up the turnbuckles and leaping off—
Flying crossbody! Cover!
ONE!
TWO—NO!
Drew powered out, shoving Kofi off with authority.
Kofi, knowing he had to keep up the pressure, rolled out of the ring and pulled Drew out with him. The Falls Count Anywhere stipulation meant there were no boundaries, and the entire arena was their battlefield.
Kofi landed a few stiff chops to Drew's chest, each one echoing through the arena. He then ran along the ringside area and leaped off the steel steps—
But Drew manages to catch him!
SPINEBUSTER ON THE FLOOR!
The crowd groaned in sympathy as Kofi's back hit the unforgiving ringside floor.
Drew immediately went for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
KOFI KICKS OUT!
Drew growled in frustration before dragging Kofi up and whipping him HARD into the steel steps!
The impact sent the steps flying apart, Kofi clutching his shoulder in pain. Drew smirked as he stalked forward, grabbing Kofi by the hair. He dragged him toward the entrance ramp, setting up for a suplex onto the steel—
Kofi fights back!
He throws rapid punches to Drew's gut, breaking free before leaping onto a nearby barricade—
SPRINGBOARD DDT ON THE RAMP!
Drew's head SPIKED against the steel, and he went limp. Kofi immediately went for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
DREW KICKS OUT!
Kofi sat up, hands on his head, disbelief on his face. He knew he needed something bigger.
Both men struggled to their feet, exchanging punches as they stood on the ramp. Drew tried for a brutal and powerful headbutt, but Kofi dodged—
Drew turned back—
TROUBLE IN PARADISE!
Kofi's boot cracked Drew right in the skull!
Drew's body collapsed onto the steel ramp, motionless!
Kofi, exhausted, crawled on top of him for the pin, and the referee seeing this immediately goes for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
The arena exploded in cheers as Kofi's music hit. He rolled off Drew, breathing heavily, his body spent but victorious.
"Here is your winner… advancing to the final round of the FCW North American Championship tournament… Kofi Kingston!"
The crowd clapped in rhythm as Kofi slowly got to his feet, raising his arms in triumph. He had done it, he was moving on to the finals.
As he stood tall, he turned his head toward the entrance area, and there, watching from the entrance tunnel, was Nick Nemeth.
Nick smirked, slow clapping as he and Kofi locked eyes. The finals were set, Kofi Kingston vs. Nick Nemeth for the FCW North American Championship.
With tension in the air and the crowd buzzing, leaving the world eagerly anticipating the clash that was now set in stone in the main event.
After the two intense semifinal matches, the show continued with two more high stakes contests. First, Rebecca defended her FCW Divas Championship against Alicia Fox in a fast paced, competitive bout. Alicia brought everything she had, using her agility and technical prowess to try and dethrone Rebecca.
But Rebecca, resilient as ever, countered a late attempt at a Scissors Kick with a brutal running knee strike, followed by her signature finisher the Hard Knox. The crowd erupted as she secured the three count, successfully retaining her title.
The next match featured FCW Tag Team Champions Tyler Black and Jon Moxley defending their belts against DH Smith and Caylen Croft. Smith and Croft, known for their experience, gave the champions a serious challenge, nearly scoring a shocking upset on multiple occasions. But in the end, Tyler's high flying offense and Moxley's unrelenting brawling proved too much.
A devastating combination of Black's Phoenix Splash and Moxley's Moxicity sealed the victory, allowing the champions to walk away with their titles intact. With the undercard wrapped up, it was time for the moment everyone had been waiting for, the final match of the FCW North American Championship Tournament to crown the inaugural champion.
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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