Editor’s Note: Talos, a member of the National Wrestling Alliance, reached out to Slamwrestling.net recently and informed us he will be doing a tour for the All-Japan Pro Wrestling promotion. Per Talos’ request, certain names have been changed to protect their anonymity. Plus, who are we to argue with a seven-foot giant?
Here is another excerpt of his adventures in the Land of the Rising Sun.
By Talos – For Slam Wrestling
Day 8 – Business, Browsing, and a Midnight Lift
Things have settled into a rhythm since getting back. Most days follow the same track: up early, quick shower, breakfast with the crew, then some cardio to shake off the morning. After that, I dive into my Japanese lessons and spend the afternoon wandering around the city, seeing what corners I haven’t discovered yet. By the time I’m back, it’s usually time to eat again—and if there’s time, I’ll squeeze in a lift before bed.
Today broke from that usual groove. Around midafternoon, Stan and I headed into the city for a meeting with management. They wanted to sync up on upcoming dates and let me know the premiere had gone over better than expected. Genuine compliments, no fluff. While we were there, I had the chance to meet the president of All Japan, Tsuyoki Fukuda, who echoed that same praise face-to-face. It was a solid moment—brief, but meaningful.
After we wrapped up, Hiroki walked us out and brought us over to the anime district. The place was buzzing with energy—bright signs, crowded shops, and side streets packed with hidden gems. We browsed for a while, just soaking it in.
Dinner came a little later. We met up with a friend from the other night who brought us to a low-key Chinese spot tucked away from the main drag. The food here never misses—if you’re into Asian cuisine, it’s on another level.
Eventually, we caught the train back to Yokohama. Since we hadn’t lifted yet, we decided to knock it out late. The gym was quiet, just us and the hum of machines. We didn’t finish until after 1 AM. Quick shower, lights out. Long day, but a good one.
Day 10 – Hustle, Hachikō, and Cotton Candy
Back in Tokyo today for some promotional work with All Japan. As usual, Stan was with me—he’s always been there anytime I’ve had to head into the city, especially when Hiroki’s involved.
We met up with Hiroki near Shibuya Station, which is always just chaos. Giant digital billboards blasting ads, crosswalks flooding with people the second the lights change, music echoing out of stores and speakers overhead. It’s loud, it’s packed, it never stops moving.
Before we got started with filming, Hiroki took us over to see the Hachikō statue. It’s right outside the station—not far from the intersection—but it’s easy to miss if you don’t know to look for it.
The statue isn’t huge or dramatic or lit up like everything else around it. It’s just a bronze dog sitting calmly on a little stone pedestal. People crowd around it constantly, mostly tourists snapping photos, couples taking selfies, schoolkids hanging off the edge of the platform.
Still, even in the middle of all that noise, there’s something about it that makes you pause.
The story’s simple but heavy: Hachikō was a dog who waited at the station every day for his owner to come home. After the man died unexpectedly, Hachikō kept coming back for nearly ten years. Same time. Same place. Just waiting. People eventually noticed, and he became this quiet symbol of loyalty in the middle of one of the busiest places on Earth.
We didn’t stay long—there isn’t really room to linger unless you want to be part of the photo line—but I’m glad we went. It gave the day a kind of grounding moment, even if it only lasted a few minutes.
From there, we jumped into promo work. Shot some videos around Shibuya Square, weaving through crowds, doing intros, posing with fans. Stan kept it fun—he’s good at reading the room and keeping energy high. After filming, Hiroki took us into a nearby neighborhood I didn’t recognize—smaller streets, less foot traffic. We found this little cotton candy stand where they spin these massive, pastel clouds of sugar. I felt kind of ridiculous holding one, but it tasted good. Sweet, airy, gone in about five seconds.
Then came purikura—those Japanese photo booths that make you look like a cartoon character, whether you want to or not.
Smoothed out skin, bigger eyes, sparkles everywhere. Stan and I leaned into it. The photos came out looking like something you’d see stuck in a high school locker.
Hiroki headed off after that, and I went looking for food. Found a traditional grill spot with a charcoal setup built right into the table. Small place, good atmosphere—wood-paneled walls, the smell of meat grilling over open flame. I ordered steak and cooked it myself, flipping the cuts just how I wanted. That smoky flavor hits hard after a long day.
By the time I left, it had started to rain. Light but steady. I pulled my hood up, caught the train back to Yokohama, and got in a quick lift around 11. Some of the guys still look at me sideways for training that late, but it feels normal to me with the time difference.
Finished with a quick dinner and a shower, then shut it down.
Day 12: “When the Day Comes Looking for You”
Today didn’t go quite how I expected—but honestly, it turned out to be a good one.
I was still waking up when there was a knock at the door. It was Hiroki, already dressed and looking sharp, like he’d been up for hours. He thanked me again for the other day, then let me know we had an emergency first aid class coming up. Not a casual invite—just a heads-up that it was happening. I had about an hour to get ready.
I grabbed my gear, took a quick shower, got dressed, then headed to the kitchen to throw together a quick breakfast—something simple to hold me over. A few of the guys were already milling around, stretching, finishing their coffee, or just trying to wake up.
There was a low buzz of energy, a little quieter than usual. Everyone was curious about what this class was going to be.
Not long after, we met in the main training hall, where two members of the Yokohama Fire Department were already waiting for us. Both looked like they’d seen their share of chaos—one of them more talkative, keeping the pace up with clear, no-nonsense instructions, and the other more reserved but sharp. When he spoke, everyone listened.
They kicked things off with how to safely load someone onto a stretcher. Naturally, they picked me for the demo—biggest guy in the room, no surprise there. I lay down while a few of the younger guys figured out how to lift and move me without hurting themselves or me.
After that, we moved into CPR and AED use—real step-by-step training, hands-on, with enough detail to stick. It wasn’t flashy, but it was the kind of knowledge you hope you never need—and exactly the kind you’re glad to have.
When the session wrapped, we thanked the instructors, and they headed out. Since we were all already there, a few of the younger guys slid right back into the kitchen and started cooking.
They made a dish called “Chobba.” I have no clue how to spell it, but whatever it was, it was incredible. Savory, warm, with a little spice to it. Perfect after the long morning.
Most of the guys jumped straight into training afterward—lifting, drills, the usual afternoon grind—but I decided to peel off for a quick nap. Just a short reset. After I woke up, I got my own lift in—nothing fancy, just solid work to move through the soreness. Then I had dinner, knocked out some cardio, and sat down for my Japanese lesson before hitting the shower and calling it a night.
It wasn’t the day I planned, but it turned out to be one of those quietly productive ones. Learned something real, got my work in, stayed steady. I’ll take it.
