THOUGHTS FROM THE BUNKER …
By Dave “The Brute” Kent
“Straight from the Bunker — where no alliance is sacred.”
It’s that time of year again — when wrestling’s bloodlines, egos, and booking philosophies all collide like an 18-wheeler full of bad decisions and broken promises. Convergence is coming, folks — the HCW/NPCW Supercard that’s shaping up to be more of a culture war than a crossover. Twenty matches announced. Two nights. Zero room for pretenders.
Before we all get drunk on hype and entrance pyro, let’s break down three of the most volatile bouts coming out of the gate on NPCW’s Night 1, because these matchups don’t just sell tickets — they decide who really runs the supernatural side of the business.
MATCH 1: Krampus (NPCW – Alpha Demon of the Demonic Legion) vs. Wilbur “Terrorfang” Townsend (HCW – Dark Dominion)
The Clash of Darkness: Hell vs. Hades.
Let’s get this out of the way — this isn’t your typical “heel vs. face” morality play. This is dark vs. darker, evil vs. meaner evil, and it all started because Grinch Heyman, that cigar-chomping Mephistopheles in a designer suit, couldn’t help but poke the Vlad-shaped bear.
After orchestrating that backstage mauling where Krampus rag-dolled poor Wilbur like an unwanted Christmas ornament, Heyman made one thing clear — the Demonic Legion thinks they own “darkness” in NPCW. The problem? Count Vlad doesn’t negotiate with other people’s monsters.
Wilbur’s not your run-of-the-mill henchman either — the guy’s a genuine sadist who cut his teeth in HCW’s blood-soaked dominion division, and he’s not about to take a beating without bringing back receipts. This fight isn’t about wins and losses; it’s about territory. Whoever walks out upright decides who commands the shadows north of the border.
KENT’S TAKE:
You can call this match whatever you want — I’m calling it a war for bragging rights over the damned. Krampus might have the power advantage, but Wilbur’s the better technician and twice as cunning. If Heyman thinks he’s playing 4D chess with Vlad, he’s actually sitting on a checkerboard with gasoline pieces.
Rating Prediction: 4.25/5 — Blood, brutality, and the kind of slow-burn violence that’ll make a devil blush.
MATCH 2: Mean Jack Mason (NPCW North Pole Champion) vs. Zack “The Commando” Brown (HCW)
The Alpha of the North vs. the Apex of the South.
Now here’s the one that could steal Night 1 — Mean Jack Mason versus Zack Brown. And yeah, before anyone tweets at me, I know — it’s non-title. Which is a crime punishable by three counts of cowardice and a lifetime ban from calling yourself a “champion.”
This one’s a clash of two heavy hitters in their prime. Mean Jack’s been NPCW’s most volatile act all year — a walking powder keg wrapped in denim and rage, as likely to DDT his own reflection as his opponent. Brown, meanwhile, is HCW’s “Commando” — precision, discipline, and cold-blooded conditioning. He’s got the kind of ring IQ that makes Marines take notes.
If this were for the North Pole Championship, we’d be talking about one of the biggest cross-promotional bouts of the decade. But even as an exhibition, it’s box office gold. Brown’s trying to prove HCW’s top tier isn’t just for southern strongmen, while Mean Jack’s trying to prove nobody from HCW belongs in his ring.
KENT’S TAKE:
If this match goes under 15 minutes, it’s a booking crime. These two could make a clinic out of a headlock. Expect brutal pacing, tight transitions, and some genuine “real fight” vibes.
Rating Prediction: 4.5/5 — If Mean Jack doesn’t implode mid-match, we’re looking at a classic.
MATCH 3: The Blonde Bombshells (Goldie Locks, Dorothy, Alice) vs. The Dark Dominion Vixens (Selena Blackfang & Talia Nocturne) w/ The Wicked Witch
It’s not a match — it’s revenge served platinum blonde.
This one’s personal, folks. Real personal. Last time we saw Goldie Locks in HCW, she was left twitching on the canvas after a beatdown from the Dominion Vixens — Selena Blackfang and Talia Nocturne. That was a message. But now, the tables have turned.
Goldie’s back on home turf with her crew — Dorothy and Alice, the Blonde Bombshells — and they’ve got revenge stitched into their ring gear. On the other side, the Vixens are backed by NPCW’s Alpha Witch, The Wicked Witch herself, which means mind games, misdirection, and possibly a few cursed hairbrushes.
This has all the makings of an emotional, chaotic six-person showdown where the heels cheat early, the faces fight from underneath, and someone takes a broomstick to the jaw before it’s over.
KENT’S TAKE:
It’s not going to be pretty, but it’s going to matter. Goldie has the chance to close the book on a humiliation that still plays on highlight reels in HCW. The Witch’s involvement could swing this into pure chaos, but I’m betting on payback blonde and bold.
Rating Prediction: 3.75/5 — Storytelling over spectacle, but the heat’s real, and that’s worth more than ten superkicks.
FINAL THOUGHT:
Convergence Night 1 isn’t just NPCW defending its turf — it’s a referendum on style, tone, and identity. HCW might have the polish, but NPCW’s got the pulse. If the rest of the card delivers like these three promise to, this could be the night the North owns the narrative.
And for the love of wrestling — somebody tell Heyman to stop summoning demons he can’t control.
NO WORDS BARRED
Dave’s Takes on NPCW House Show from Greenland (October 30, 2025)
If you ever wanted proof that NPCW doesn’t take a night off — not even in subzero temperatures — Greenland House Show 032 made that painfully clear. The Iron Ring crew shipped north and delivered a show that felt part exhibition, part endurance test, and part Arctic survival drill. Every match had that frozen tension — the kind where sweat turns to frost before it hits the mat.
From undercard grudge bouts to a heavyweight tag main event that looked like a polar bear documentary gone wrong, this was one of those nights that reminds you why NPCW’s heart beats cold and hard. No pyro, no fancy set — just bone-rattling fights echoing through an ice hall that felt more like a bunker than an arena.
And in typical NPCW fashion, the roster didn’t just wrestle; they made a statement. The beasts got meaner, the heroes got tougher, and the crowd (bundled up in parkas) got their money’s worth.
Welcome to the north, where every slam leaves a snowprint.
MATCH 1: La Bruja Muerte (w/ The Coven) vs. Moon Silver (w/ The Wolf Pack)
Referee: “Honest” Abe
The Hype:
On paper, this was witchcraft versus wolfpack — the Coven’s dark arts against the pack’s brute pack tactics. La Bruja Muerte’s been haunting the North like a ghost that refuses to pay rent, while Moon Silver’s quietly become NPCW’s most improved brawler, trading mystique for momentum. Both sides came loaded with backup, and with “Honest” Abe refereeing, “honest” was always gonna be a stretch.
The Match:
The bell rings and the shenanigans start immediately. The Coven swings a broom before the crowd’s even done booing, and Moon Silver answers by powerbombing La Bruja so hard the arena lights flicker. From there, it’s chaos stitched together by suplexes and spellcraft.
Silver racked up the early lead with big power moves — Sitout Powerbomb, Shoulder Block, and the aptly named Howling Slam — but Muerte kept crawling back, hitting crisp dropkicks and a textbook Curse Breaker that nearly turned the tide. The Coven’s distractions kept her afloat, but the Wolf Pack wasn’t shy either, howling, tripping, and flashing fangs at every chance.
By the tenth minute, Moon Silver was landing bombs and counting pins, but La Bruja kept kicking out like a horror movie villain refusing to die in the third act. The final minutes turned cinematic — green mist, chaos, and confusion. Moon Silver speared her in half with the Alpha Strike, but before he could pin her clean, the Coven decided to go full Tokyo Dome heel — green mist to the eyes, caught red-handed.
“Honest” Abe had no choice but to call for the bell. Disqualification.
Winner: Moon Silver via DQ (17:00) after Coven interference.
Kent’s Take:
If you love your wrestling dirty, spooky, and louder than a Salem séance — this was your kind of mess. For a match in Greenland, it burned hotter than expected. Muerte looked sharp in spots, hitting fluid dropkicks and that nasty Curse Breaker, but she still leans too heavy on her entourage. Moon Silver, on the other hand, looked like a guy finally learning when to pace himself — a rare sight for someone who usually wrestles like a caffeine overdose.
The finish was classic NPCW overbooked lunacy: double interference, foreign objects, mist, and a DQ that nobody’s really mad about because it fit the story. Silver gets the W, Muerte keeps her mystique, and “Honest” Abe earns his paycheck pretending he didn’t see half of it.
Rating: ★★★ (3/5)
Verdict: A fun supernatural slugfest buried under more interference than a bad Wi-Fi signal. The Coven needs a leash. The Wolf Pack needs a muzzle. But damn if it wasn’t entertaining.
MATCH 2: Frosty vs. Nutcracker Captain (w/ The Nutcracker General)
Referee: “Honest” Abe
The Hype:
Christmas came early — and by “Christmas,” I mean a 300-pound snowman throwing bombs at a militarized toy soldier while a General in a velvet cape whacks people with a scepter. Only in NPCW could you book The Frost Monster vs. the Nutcracker Battalion and call it “family entertainment.”
This was a battle of winter mascots and pure ego. Frosty’s been on a cold streak (no pun intended), trying to prove he’s more than a walking merch table, while the Nutcracker Captain — with his blustering commander — keeps marching out like it’s December 24th every night. “Honest” Abe was reffing again, which meant anything less than a full-blown toy riot would be considered a moral victory.
The Match:
Frosty started strong, slamming the Captain like a snow shovel through ice. Snowball Slam, Frostbite Suplex, Snowdrift Splash — all hit clean, all brutal. The crowd was firmly behind Frosty, and for once, he didn’t melt under pressure.
But as soon as the General got involved, the match went sideways. By minute ten, the General’s scepter had done more damage than half the Captain’s arsenal. Frosty tried to power through — even hitting a gorgeous Blizzard Buster that had the Captain seeing candy canes — but every near-fall got spoiled by the General’s constant meddling.
Things hit a fever pitch around minute fifteen when the Captain fired off the Nutcracker Cannon (Spear) — a move that looked more like an OSHA violation than a wrestling hold. Frosty somehow survived it, regained his composure, and started swinging. The final stretch was chaos: scepters flying, Frosty’s hat nearly coming off (which, in NPCW lore, is basically decapitation), and the crowd howling for justice.
Finally, Frosty caught the Captain in the Blizzard Bind (Figure Four) — wrenching back until the toy soldier’s wooden knees couldn’t take it anymore. The Captain tapped out like a busted nutcracker doll.
Winner: Frosty via Submission (Blizzard Bind, 23:00)
Kent’s Take:
I’m not gonna lie — I laughed, I groaned, and I maybe popped a little. This was absurd, overbooked, and colder than a Christmas Eve divorce settlement, but damn if it didn’t work. Frosty’s improving — he’s no technician, but the big snow brute can sell, and his timing’s gotten sharper. The Captain played the cowardly heel perfectly, bumping around like he was made of tinsel, and the General deserves an award for “Most Creative Use of Foreign Object in a Match Set to Carol of the Bells.”
Still, NPCW needs to get a leash on this interference epidemic. If “Honest” Abe gets any blinder, they’re gonna have to rename him “Oblivious Abe.”
Rating:★★★ (3/5)
Verdict: A blustery, overbooked holiday brawl that somehow warmed the crowd’s hearts while freezing logic solid. Frosty’s stock just went up — and the Nutcracker General’s scepter should be in evidence custody by morning.
MATCH 3: Penny Coppersnap, Maid Marion & Sorina vs. Wicked Witch, Wicked Willow & Morrigan
Referee: “Honest” Abe (+0)
The Hype:
This was the fairytale six-pack — the forces of good versus the witches’ coven, three-on-three chaos out of some grim bedtime story. Maid Marion and Penny Coppersnap came in with that babyface fire (and questionable strategy), teaming with Sorina — who’s still trying to find her groove in NPCW’s trio scene. Across the ring, the unholy trinity of Morrigan, Wicked Witch, and Wicked Willow stalked in like a coven ready to burn the whole place down.
And because life’s unfair, “Honest” Abe was assigned again — a man who referees like he’s reading the rulebook in braille.
The Match:
Things exploded right out of the gate. Within a minute, Marion and Sorina hit slick double-team offense — Robin’s Arrow (Superkick) from Marion and a Chickenwing Neckscissors from Sorina — a shockingly tight sequence for two wrestlers who’ve never teamed before. Morrigan shrugged it off with her trademark Inverted DDT, and we were off to the races.
From there, Morrigan absolutely cooked in the ring. A Brainbuster, then a series of Facebreakers, Roundhouses, and Dragon Sleepers — this woman looked like she’d been taking notes from late-era Asuka tapes. Every time Marion or Sorina started rolling, Morrigan stomped the fire out with surgical precision. The early minutes were basically a “Morrigan Showcase” reel, and you could see why management’s been quietly talking about a singles push.
But it wasn’t all doom. Around minute four, Maid Marion pulled out a Surprise Small Package that nearly stole the win, and by minute seven, everyone was in the ring — a six-way car wreck that looked like Cirque du Soleil booked a lumberjack match. You had Wicked Witch’s Black Magic Backbreaker, Willow’s Widow’s Peak, Morrigan’s Spinning Back Fist, and even Penny Coppersnap’s Head Hex Driver (DDT) — all landing within fifteen seconds of each other. It was chaos, it was messy, it was glorious.
From there, the match settled into the witches isolating Sorina. The poor girl was treated like a chew toy — Neckbreakers, Suplexes, Kicks, and more double-teaming than a mid-2000s ROH tag bout. Sorina fought like hell, hitting a crisp Float-Over DDT and a few Spinning Heel Kicks, but every rally got snuffed out by Morrigan, who kept coming back like a curse that wouldn’t lift.
By minute fifteen, the crowd was losing it — Penny made the save on a near-fall that would’ve ended it, Marion tried to swing momentum back with that Kiss Goodnight Roundhouse, and for a split second, it felt like the heroes might steal one. But Morrigan locked Sorina in an Ankle Lock German Suplex combination that was as nasty as it sounds, bridging tight for the pin.
Winner: Morrigan (of Team Wicked) via Pinfall after Ankle Lock German Suplex (20:00)
Kent’s Take:
This was a war. Long, chaotic, and occasionally uglier than a bucket of troll snot — but in all the best ways. You got storytelling, character beats, crowd energy, and enough botched saves to make it feel real. Morrigan continues to look like the backbone of the witch faction — calm, vicious, and smarter than her stablemates. Wicked Witch still leans too hard into theatricality (half her offense looks like interpretive dance), while Willow is all torque and no rhythm — but she’s powerful enough to cover it.
On the babyface side, Maid Marion remains the glue — always ring-aware, always crisp, and the perfect underdog energy. Penny Coppersnap gets better every week — she’s a walking throwback to midcard ‘80s brawlers, all grit and flailing fire. And Sorina... listen, the girl took a beating, but she sold it beautifully. She made Morrigan look like an executioner.
The real issue? “Honest” Abe. This man has overseen more uncounted double-teams than any ref in wrestling history. Either the guy’s got cataracts or management told him to “let ‘em play.” If that’s the case, mission accomplished — this was basically lucha libre meets a bar fight.
Rating: ★★★ (3/5)
Verdict: The witches cast their spell, the heroines fought back, and the fans got a fairy tale ending — just the kind where the bad guys win.
MATCH 4: Robin Hood vs. Cheshire Cat
Referee: “Honest” Abe (+0)
The Hype:
Now this was a style clash straight out of a fever dream. On one side — Robin Hood, the Iron Academy’s snarky, arrow-slinging golden boy, representing the best of the new generation of NPCW ring generals. On the other — Cheshire Cat, the erratic, grinning chaos gremlin from Wonderland, managed (or maybe tormented) by the Mad Hatter. This wasn’t just about bragging rights — this was about philosophy: precision versus pandemonium, composure versus cartoon lunacy.
And somewhere in the middle of it all stood “Honest” Abe, the referee who has now called more questionable finishes than a mid-’90s WCW pay-per-view.
The Match:
The bell rang and Robin Hood didn’t waste time — catching Cheshire flush with the Arrow’d End (Stunner) right out of the gate. The crowd erupted, thinking the match might end before the Hatter could even open his mouth. But Cheshire, somehow, flopped out of the wreckage, laughing through the pain like the ring was his own personal padded cell.
From there, the momentum turned as fast as a Cheshire grin. Cat fired back with a Shotgun Dropkick, Hurricanrana, and Fujiwara Armbar combo that had Robin scrambling. Credit where it’s due — Cheshire Cat might wrestle like a hallucination, but his offense has sharp edges. Every move looked like it was designed to dislocate something and annoy you while doing it.
By minute four, Hatter got involved, shoving Abe and babbling in tongues like he’d just seen God in a teacup. Somehow, no disqualification. Abe called it “chaotic energy.” I call it “incompetence.” Robin looked ready to deck both of them — and a few minutes later, he actually did, blasting Hatter off the apron in minute eleven. (That got the loudest pop of the night.)
The middle of the match became a clinic in contrasts: Robin’s crisp Superkicks, Sentons, and DDTs versus Cheshire’s elastic, unpredictable submission style. The Rear Naked Choke, Fujiwara, and Hurricanrana chain wrestling was genuinely impressive — the guy’s like a fever-dream Zack Sabre Jr. if Zack trained in a funhouse.
The finish came fast and clean — a rarity in this one. Cheshire hit another Shotgun Dropkick, caught Robin mid-setup for another Senton, and planted him flat for the three-count. The Cat danced around the ring, laughing and pointing at Abe like he just pulled off a magic trick.
Winner: Cheshire Cat via Pinfall after Shotgun Front Dropkick (16:00)
Kent’s Take:
Let’s get this out of the way — Cheshire Cat has no business being this good. Underneath all the manic giggling and Looney Tunes body language, there’s real technical ability here. The transitions were smooth, the pacing was deliberate (under the madness), and the crowd was eating out of the Cat’s clawed hands by the halfway mark.
Robin Hood, meanwhile, remains one of NPCW’s most naturally gifted workers. His timing, his selling, his crowd control — it’s all there. But tonight, he got trapped in the Cat’s world, and once that happened, the rope-a-dope chaos swallowed him whole. Every time he built momentum, the Wonderland duo bent the rules, distracted Abe, or played possum long enough to break his rhythm.
I’ll say this — the feud has legs. You can’t book this kind of chemistry and not run it back. Give them a rematch at Convergence, toss Hatter in a straitjacket, and let Robin loose. You’ll have a classic.
Rating: ★★★★ (4/ 5)
Verdict: Robin brought arrows — the Cat brought madness. Guess which one bites harder.
Absolutely — here’s Match 5 written up in full Brutal Truth Newsletter style, Issue #14 (Oct 30, 2025), complete with Kent’s sharp analysis, historical nods, and a tone that fits your established newsletter voice:
MAIN EVENT – Polar Bears vs. Blitzen & Donner
Referee: “Honest” Abe (+0)
The Hype:
Greenland. Ice. Cold air. Colder grudges.
You couldn’t ask for a more fitting main event than The Polar Bears squaring up against Blitzen and Donner — a clash between the tundra titans and the holiday headliners. On one side, you’ve got two walking freezers whose strategy revolves around “hit hard, tag out, and maul again.” On the other, two of Santa’s finest trying to prove they can hang in the heavyweight brawl division.
Blitzen’s been building steam as the breakout reindeer, agile and fearless, while Donner remains the powerhouse anchor. The Bears? Same story, different victims. But this one wasn’t about finesse — it was about attrition. You could practically feel the frostbite from row three.
The Match:
This one started like a polar avalanche — no build-up, no breathers. The Bears jumped early, tagging and double-teaming like they’d been raised on synchronized destruction. Within the first minute, Blitzen got mauled with a Full Nelson + Blizzard Slam combo that nearly caved in the ice under the ring. Eight points here, ten there — the Bears owned the early minutes like territorial predators.
But Blitzen’s tougher than the tinsel gimmick suggests. He fired back with mule kicks and aerial flashes, slapping on an Abdominal Stretch that had Polar Bear #1 gritting his teeth — but no tap-out. The Bears returned fire with brute-force classics: Bear Hug, Powerslam, and every move that screams “veteran hoss fight.”
Momentum swung minute to minute — Blitzen tagging Donner at seven to reset the pace. Donner came in hot, throwing Powerbombs and Shoulder Tackles like a man trying to knock down a glacier. For a stretch, the Reindeer Coalition actually looked like they might steal it. Their timing clicked in the 16th minute, when Donner and Blitzen doubled up with a Mule Kick–Ab Stretch combo that scored a clean +18 on Polar Bear #2.
But the Bears? They don’t melt easy. The moment Blitzen tagged out, the Bears went back to their playbook — three straight rounds of double-team mauling, capped by the Snowstorm Spin and the Inverted Bearhug. By the 17th, Donner looked like a guy running out of daylight.
Then came the finish — and it was pure chaos. Donner fired one last Running Shoulder Tackle, got caught on a counter, and was tossed clean out of the ring. “Honest” Abe started the count, and the crowd joined in. 7… 8… 9… 10. Count-out victory for the Polar Bears. No pin, no submission — just good old-fashioned brute dominance and a dumb decision to argue with gravity.
Kent’s Take
Let’s call it what it was: a snowbound slugfest that overdelivered on spectacle and underdelivered on brains. The Polar Bears played to their strengths — relentless tags, big-man timing, and just enough awareness to keep momentum rolling. The Reindeer, though? They got cute when they needed to get mean.
Blitzen was the standout again — crisp execution, smart pacing, selling like a champ. Donner, meanwhile, still looks like he’s stuck between being the muscle and the mind. You can’t run shoulder tackles into an avalanche and expect a different result every time.
From a statistical standpoint, the Bears controlled 65% of ring time, landed four successful double-teams, and outscored the Reindeer 107 to 88 overall. That’s not luck — that’s discipline wrapped in fur.
Finish was a little flat, but thematically perfect — Polar Bears winning by count-out in Greenland? That’s heatless poetry.
Kent’s Rating: ★★★★ (4/5)
Verdict: “Big man tag wrestling done right — stiff, stupid, and satisfying. The Bears proved again that slow and steady still mauls the flash. Reindeer fought hard but flew too close to the frost.”
FINAL WORD ON GREENLAND FROM THE BRUTE:
Greenland 032 won’t go down as the flashiest card, but it will go down as one of the most physical. The pacing was slower, the tone grittier — but the authenticity was off the charts. This was the type of show that keeps NPCW’s mystique alive: raw, unfiltered, and deeply regional.
The Polar Bears cemented themselves as one of the most dangerous tag teams in the Arctic Division, while the Reindeer Coalition continued to prove they’re the moral backbone of the northern roster — maybe a little too noble for their own good. The undercard featured new academy prospects showing promise, but the veterans reminded everyone that experience — and a thicker hide — still rule the region.
If the upcoming Convergence Supercard is the war, Greenland 032 was the last blizzard before the battle.
Kent’s Verdict:
“No glamour. No filler. Just cold, cruel storytelling at its most primal. Greenland 032 proves again — NPCW doesn’t need the sun to burn hot.”
THE FINAL WORD
“Bury the Hatchet, Sharpen the Edge”
By Dave “The Brute” Kent
Last week, yours truly stepped into the ring for something that felt less like a tag match and more like a live experiment in controlled violence. They said it couldn’t be done — me and Brick Brody on the same side. Two men who’ve spent months trying to cave each other’s ribs in. But for one night, we called a truce, laced up, and decided to give the audience a reason to buy extra popcorn.
And let me say this plain: we delivered.
Brody came in mean, as advertised. The man hits like a freight train filled with regret. But I’ll give him credit — and this ain’t charity — he showed up focused. We didn’t need a handshake, we needed results. The chemistry wasn’t pretty, but it was powerful. Two bulls charging at the same red cape, and for most of that match, we owned the ring.
Now, let’s look at the numbers — because I know the analysts in the cheap seats love their data.
I was in that match for twenty-one minutes, led the offense, outscored every man not named Robin Hood, and nearly turned that do-gooder into a stain on the mat. Eighty-five points of damage, one clean pin attempt, and more ring control than the “Outlaw” wants to admit.
And speaking of Robin Hood — congratulations, pal. You caught me at twenty-four minutes with that Arrow’d End. You got your hand raised, but you know as well as I do, I beat you in everything that matters: pace, control, and punishment dealt. You just had the better storybook ending that night.
As for Mr. X? Let’s call it what it was — a ghost in my corner. Three minutes of airtime and a front-row seat to a wrestling clinic taught by me and Brody. When the match turned south, he wasn’t the one digging us out of the snowdrift. That was me.
But here’s where the real story turns.
At Convergence, I’ll be there — ringside, in Robin Hood’s corner. Yeah, you read that right. The same man who pinned me last week is the man I’m backing this time. Why? Because this business is about respect, not resentment. And because Mr. X has been running his mouth like a man who’s never been hit hard enough to taste reality.
See, I buried the hatchet with Brick Brody — not because we’re friends, but because we’re professionals who know what real fight looks like. Mr. X? He’s about to learn the difference between a partner and a problem.
So come Convergence, I’ll be watching closely from the corner — not as a journalist, not as a spectator, but as the man who knows exactly what both these boys bring to the table.
And if Mr. X thinks he’s walking out untouched… well, let’s just say this Brute doesn’t do quiet corners.
Kent’s Rating: ★★★★½
“A brutal, beautiful match — the kind that leaves bruises and grudges. Brody earned my respect. Hood earned my attention. Mr. X? He’s about to earn something much worse.”
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