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Cole whispered into his mic, voice trembling. "We've got thirty security guards, the Chairman, and the new General Manager in the ring… and I still don't think that's enough." The Undisputed System stopped at ringside. Sandro tilted his head slightly, staring up at Vince and Heyman, two of the most powerful men in wrestling history, and slowly raised the mic.
"Vince, Paul… you really think this is gonna stop us?" he said, his tone dripping with contempt. "You think a bunch of mall cops are gonna protect the two of you from us?" He laughed, shaking his head. "You're looking at the future of this business, Boss and Mr. Heyman. We already run this place. We are the standard of WWE now."
The fans booed louder, while Vince looked ready to explode.
Heyman stepped forward, smirking. "You know, Sandro… I used to respect you. But then after following you, I realized you're not a revolutionary. You're just another power hungry ego maniac that feed of power and control. You're the third rate version of Triple H minus the wonderful hair and fame."
The crowd cheered loudly at that line.
Sandro hearing that tilted his head, his smirk have turned into a scowl. "Cute speech, Mr. Heyman. You are trying to make me do some impulsive actions, which I really wanted to do but I'm smart enough not to play in your hand. That's the difference between me and Triple H… is that I can keep myself calm and collected, not letting my own emotion clouded my judgement."
The fans let out thunderous boos, a wall of sound echoing across the arena as Sandro stood there, his trademark cold grin etched across his face. The jeers were deafening, but he didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. If anything, the noise only seemed to fuel him further.
Cole leaned forward at the commentary desk, shaking his head. "You can say what you want about him, but Sandro never lets emotion cloud his judgment. Not once, King. He's always one step ahead."
Lawler sighed, visibly uneasy. "Yeah, but that's exactly what makes him so dangerous, Cole. The guy doesn't lose his cool. He doesn't snap. He calculates. He studies. And when he strikes, it's not random, it's planned to perfection. It's mind games at their absolute best… or worst, depending on how you look at it. His mind games… I'd say they're on par with some of the best this business ever had."
The camera zoomed back in on the ring. Heyman, still holding the microphone, gave a short, humorless laugh. He tilted his head, his voice dripping with that signature smug confidence.
"You know what, Sandro? You're right about one thing," Heyman said, pacing slowly around the ring, his hand motioning toward the Undisputed System members standing outside. "The Game's weakness was his temper. I know that better than anyone, I've seen men like him self destruct because they couldn't handle the heat. But that doesn't make you superior, Sandro. It just makes you colder."
He stopped dead in the center of the ring, staring right at Sandro with that piercing Heyman glare. "And as cold as you are, as calm as you claim to be, I still stand by everything I've just said. You're not a revolutionary. You're not a savior. You're a power hungry egomaniac wearing a cheap coat of 'discipline' to hide what you really are, a parasite feeding off the chaos you create. You manipulate, you threaten, and you pretend to be calm because you know deep down if you ever lose control, the world will finally see what you really are, fragile."
The crowd roared with cheers at that line, and Heyman let it breathe, waiting for the fans to fully rally behind him before continuing. "And let me make one thing perfectly clear," he added, raising a finger. "As the new General Manager of Monday Night Raw, I am here to enforce rules. That means if you and your little family, your so called Undisputed System, cause chaos one more time, I'll personally make sure that every single punishment Mr. McMahon listed will happen instantly."
The fans erupted again. "YES! YES! YES!" chants spread through the arena like wildfire.
Heyman turned to Vince, who nodded approvingly. Then Heyman looked back at Sandro, his expression firm. "Your United States Championship? Stripped. Your fine? Seven hundred thousand dollars, gone. And your title opportunities? Finished. Permanently. Do it again, and I'll end every ounce of privilege you've built here."
At ringside, the members of the Undisputed System stiffened. Alexa crossed her arms, her lips tightening. Drew McIntyre glared toward the ring with murder in his eyes. Ryback and Big E exchanged grim looks, and Wade Barrett's jaw tightened like he was already calculating the cost.
Sandro's face, however, was unreadable. He stood perfectly still, his eyes on Heyman. Then slowly, so subtly that only those who really knew him could tell, his expression shifted. A flicker of thought crossed his face. His gaze sharpened. His lips curled upward just a fraction, the hint of a smirk forming as if an idea had just sparked in that sharp mind of his.
Cole noticed it first. "Wait… wait a second, King. Look at him. Look at Sandro's face. I've seen that look before. He's thinking of something."
Lawler groaned. "Oh boy. You're right, Cole. That's not a look you wanna see. That's the look he gets before he flips the script."
Sandro slowly raised the microphone again. "Now hold on, Mr. Heyman," he said, his tone shifting from arrogant to eerily calm. "No need to make any rash decisions here, alright? Truth is… the Undisputed System has been getting tired of all this chaos anyway."
The crowd gasped. Then, almost immediately, a wave of cheers broke out. They couldn't believe it. Cole's voice shot up in surprise. "Wait, what? Did Sandro Zhang just say he's tired of chaos?"
Lawler nearly dropped his headset. "There's no way. No way in hell he's serious!"
In the ring, Heyman raised an eyebrow, momentarily caught off guard. Vince looked skeptical but didn't interrupt.
Sandro nodded, his tone calm, even a little humble, though his eyes still gleamed with calculation. "Yeah, yeah, you heard me right. We're done with all the chaos, the invasions, the attacks. We'll stop. We'll step back and let things settle."
The cheers grew louder, echoing through the arena. The fans wanted to believe it, even though deep down, they knew better.
Then, with a flash of that trademark arrogance, Sandro's lips twisted into a sneer. He turned toward the crowd, raising the mic again. "Now, shut up while I'm talking."
Instantly, the cheers transformed into an ocean of boos. The entire arena thundered in disapproval, the same fans who had been applauding him seconds ago now screaming in hatred.
Cole groaned. "And there it is! That's the Sandro Zhang we all know!"
Lawler nodded. "The man just can't resist. He's playing everyone like a fiddle, Cole. Every single one of them!"
Sandro's voice rose over the noise. "I said we'll stop causing chaos, on one condition."
That one line turned the arena back into a storm. The fans immediately began chanting, "NO! NO! NO!" trying to warn Vince and Heyman not to take the bait.
Heyman, however, looked intrigued. His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing. He turned toward Vince, who gave a small nod, permission to let Sandro continue.
Heyman turned back, his expression unreadable. "Alright then," he said. "What condition do you propose, Sandro?"
Sandro smirked. "Now we're talking, Mr. Heyman." He lowered the microphone for a brief moment, soaking in the noise of the furious crowd. The jeers were deafening, but he basked in them like a performer at the height of his act.
Then, ever the provocateur, he turned toward the sea of fans in El Paso and said, "Real classy, El Paso. Real classy. But what can I expect from a city like this? A town full of hoodlums and rejects. After all, this place gave birth to Eddie Guerrero…"
The crowd instantly shifted from loud to nuclear. The boos hit like a shockwave, echoing through every corner of the building. Some fans stood up in disbelief, others threw drinks in the air.
"…thank God he's already passed away," Sandro continued coldly. "Otherwise, I'd have to share a locker room with another lowlife from this dump."
The reaction was instant. The arena nearly exploded. Chants of "ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!" rang out. Fans in the front row were shouting furiously, some nearly climbing over the barricade before security intervened.
Cole's voice cracked with rage. "How dare he?! How dare Sandro say something like that about the late, great Eddie Guerrero! That's a new low, King! A new damn low!"
Lawler's face was pale with disbelief. "I… I don't even have words for that. You don't touch Eddie Guerrero's name like that. Not here. Not ever."
But in the ring, Sandro was smiling, calm as ever, even as the arena showered him with venom. He waited, letting the boos reach their peak before raising the microphone again.
"Technical team," he said, motioning toward the stage, "turn up my mic. These people are too loud for their own good."
The sound tech reluctantly complied, and Sandro's voice boomed even louder than before, overpowering the ocean of hate.
"Now, before I was rudely interrupted by these degenerates," he continued, pacing slowly. "As I was saying, my condition is simple. The Undisputed System will stop all chaos and attacks, if, and only if, Mr. Heyman, you grant us what we deserve."
Heyman crossed his arms. "And what exactly is that?"
Sandro grinned. "Opportunities. You give my family what they deserve. Every one of them has proven themselves, individually and in tag matches. Every member of the Undisputed System has earned their place. Except one." He turned his head toward Kofi, who stood behind him, expression unreadable. "Kofi hasn't had his singles match yet."
He then pointed beside him toward Alexa Bliss, who smirked confidently. "Alexa here hasn't had her singles title match yet. So tonight, I want Alexa Bliss to get her shot at the WWE Divas Championship. And as for my enforcers, Big E and Ryback, they want their shot at the World Tag Team Championships. They want it tonight, and we'll play by your rules."
The arena's reaction was mixed chaos, boos, gasps, even a few cheers from fans who wanted to see the fights happen.
Cole leaned back, incredulous. "Unbelievable. After all the chaos they've caused, all the attacks, Sandro's not apologizing, he's negotiating!"
Lawler sighed. "And the worst part is, Cole, he might just get what he wants. Because the guy always has a way of turning things around."
Heyman stared at Sandro for several seconds, his expression unreadable, before slowly pacing the ring again. "So let me get this straight," he said finally, his tone sharp. "You want me to reward your chaos with title matches? You want me to take everything you've done to this company and somehow make it worth it?"
Sandro shrugged, smirk never fading. "I'm just asking for fairness. My family's earned their chances, haven't they?"
The crowd booed louder, but Heyman raised a hand, signaling for silence. "You've got some nerve, Sandro. You really do." He chuckled darkly. "But I'll admit… you've also got guts."
Vince stepped forward beside him, glaring daggers. "Heyman, don't you even think about it," he barked. "Don't give that man a damn thing. Not after what he just said!"
But Heyman's grin widened, that familiar cunning spark lighting up his eyes. "Oh, I'm not agreeing, Mr. McMahon," he said. "I'm simply… considering."
The fans booed, knowing Heyman's history of playing mind games just as intense as Sandro's.
Sandro smirked wider. "See, that's the difference between you and Vince, Paul. Vince threatens. You negotiate. That's why I respect you more than him."
Heyman raised a brow. "You respect me?"
"Of course," Sandro said smoothly. "After all, you're not some senile old man desperately clinging to control. You're a strategist. A man who understands what power really looks like. And that's why, deep down, you know I'm right."
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Vince's face was red, his fists clenched. The crowd was roaring, security forming a tighter perimeter around the ring.
Cole's voice trembled with the energy of the moment. "This is insane, King. We've got Sandro Zhang trying to manipulate Paul Heyman in real time and Heyman looks like he's actually thinking about it!"
Lawler nodded, gripping his headset. "It's a battle of the minds, Cole. Two of the smartest men in wrestling history standing toe to toe and the Chairman caught in between!"
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Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 20 (2010)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championships History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA X Division Champion, & 1x WWE United States Champion
Other Achievements: 1x Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner
Wrestlemania Record: 1 - 0