Disclaimer: The original characters are my own, Kinnikuman/Ultimate Muscle characters are not.

Let's Educate! 2: The Concept of Chôjin (Concise version)

Seigi Chôjin- Superbeings fighting for concepts such as justice. Our friends in the Muscle League, for example.

Aku no Chôjin- Superbeings fighting for selfish desires. Anyone in the dMp applies.

Dôbutsu Chôjin- A sub-class of superbeings resembling animals. Wrestlers like Seiuchin and the Rigani (Cranky Doodle Crawdaddy, sigh...) would fall under this category.

Requiem for the Wrestling Few

By Son Rhandi

Chapter 01: 'From the Skies...'

It had been a while since they were last able to relax like this. After the whole scenario with Generation X, the Muscle Leaguers and their lady friends chilled for a bit, doing the things young people like to do: go to the beach, hit the mall, eat out, cruise... Today, it was the food court that called.

"It's certainly been very easy going since Mantaro fought with Scarface," said Gazelle Man, taking a forkful of fruit salad. Seiuchin nodded in agreement, a giant bass slapped on his plate.

"Well, I'll tell you what, I could get used to this kinda peace." Terry spoke in his usual western flavor, taking a bite of his chili burger. Meanwhile, Mantaro was approaching his sixth beef bowl.

"You were really awesome out there, Mantaro," one of Rinko's friends commented, the tall brunette. The prince of wrestling grinned, grains of rice and beef drippings on his face. "Yeah! I showed Scarface who was boss, didn't I?"

"That's all good and well, kid," Meat spoke up. "But that doesn't mean you're free to slack off..."

Mantaro dismissed his manager's words. "Relax, Meat. It's not like we don't work out or practice. We've learned our lesson from before. Have more faith in us!"

"Well, just to reinforce the lesson, we're all going down to IWF to train after this."

All four of the young men stood up in protest, arguing with the short fellow. "No whining! You're training and that's final! And as for you three," he addressed the beast-men and Texan. "Harabote'll kick you off the Earth for good if you don't show up at least three times a week!"

"How do you like that, being managed by someone else's manager..." The crimson stag mumbled.

The young men got up from their chairs, giving the girls a melancholy good-bye, and made their way to the exit.

"Hey, what's that?"

"Look there. Something's breaking through the clouds."

"What is it?"

The ramblings of the increasing crowd at the window piqued Meat's interest. His eyes widened as they took in what appeared to be a giant turtle descending from above. "Hey, guys!" He called to the four. "Get over here!"

They joined him swiftly. "What's goin' on?"

"Take a look, kid."

They all gaped as they saw that saucer-shaped tortoise cut the sky. As it passed the sun, it caught glare, causing a few in the throng to shield their eyes. "Wait a minute... it wouldn't reflect light if it were a real turtle, would it?" Observed the brunette.

"That's right! It's gotta be some sort of spaceship! Hey, fellas, we need to get to the IWF an' let Harabote know what's up!"

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"Hmm? A turtle ship?"

Meat nodded. "That's right." Harabote stroked his chin and turned to gaze out the window. "...So, they're at it again..."

"Who?"

"What you saw earlier was the ship, Gamera, care of the Animus School of Professional Wrestling. They come around every so often trying to recruit members, particularly beast-men and man-beasts like Gazelle Man and Seiuchin, there. Even Buffalo Man has had a run-in with them in his early years... They've turned out guys as bad as Sneagator. Worse, even. As far as I know, all they care about are bragging rights. Once their wrestlers graduate, they don't care what path they decide to go down. Radicals..."

"Should we worry?"

"Just keep an eye on Gazelle Man and Seiuchin. As long as those guys are in the area, they pose a threat to our wrestlers."