On September 7th, Carl Frazier faced Andre in Las Vegas for the WBO title challenge.
This ti, Jason Luo and Coach Brown were there to watch the fight live. As expected, Carl claid victory in just two rounds.
Jason had anticipated this result, but what shocked him and Coach Brown was Carl’s defense, evasive movent, and counterattacking skill. Andre was a renowned heavy hitter in the boxing world, yet across two rounds, his power punches had almost no effect—he was completely crushed by Carl’s technical dominance. Combined with Carl’s devastating combinations from both hands, Andre was left utterly helpless.
After the win, Carl raised his gold belt high and rushed to the ropes, shouting toward Jason, “Jason Luo! You’re next—just like Andre!”
Only then did the audience notice Jason sitting farther back in the stands, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Even so, he hadn’t expected Carl to recognize him through the disguise.
Since he was exposed, Jason stood up, removed his sunglasses, and shouted back, “No need for words between us! In two months, we’ll settle this with our fists!”
“Fine,” Carl replied. “Don’t let down.”
...
Their exchange quickly beca the latest headline fodder for the dia. But after leaving the arena, Jason’s mood was heavy. From what he’d seen, Carl’s technical superiority was overwhelming—his timing, distance control, and rhythm were all far beyond Jason’s. If he had stepped into the ring that night, the outco would’ve been disastrous.
Coach Brown, walking beside him, understood exactly what was on Jason’s mind, though he too felt helpless. “Carl used to be an offensive fighter—his power in both hands was already terrifying. But now, under Mayweather’s training, he’s beco a complete fighter, strong in both offense and defense. And this transformation happened in less than a month. Give him two more months, and he’ll be even sharper. That makes our task much tougher.”
Jason was frustrated. Carl felt like his destined rival. A year ago, he had nearly lost to him. He thought that with a year of hard work and the support of his system, he’d surpass Carl easily in their rematch.
But Carl’s talent and foundation were exceptional. After all this ti, Jason hadn’t surpassed him—if anything, the gap was even wider than before.
There’s always soone stronger out there. Still, Jason had his own trump card. If he activated his Life Skill and burned his vitality, Carl might not be able to withstand it.
But how powerful was this Life Skill, really? Jason didn’t know. He wanted to test it, but his vitality reserves were limited—he couldn’t afford to waste them.
He could only hope to gain sothing valuable from Pacquiao. Truth be told, Jason didn’t dislike Carl. He genuinely wanted a pure, strength-versus-strength fight. After all, the highest pursuit in boxing should be about challenging oneself.
With his Manila trip approaching, Jason began his preparations. He settled all championship inco with Mr. Rod, first wiring Tony one million dollars. The rest didn’t worry him—two exhibition matches would cover any shortfall.
Now that he was a world champion and a rising dia sensation, his market value was soaring daily. Money was no longer a limitation.
After wrapping up his finances, Jason personally went to Princeton to say goodbye to Catherine. Their relationship had beco official—they talked on the phone almost every night, and their bond was growing stronger.
When Catherine learned he’d be in training for two months, she was frustrated. “Two months? That’s way too long. Maybe I can take ti off and co visit you.”
“No way! The Philippines isn’t exactly the safest place. You’re a beautiful girl—if anything happened, your father would never forgive .”
“Huh, so you finally admit I’m beautiful? Fine then—but you’d better take care of yourself.”
“Relax! I’ll be fine. If sothing happens to while I’m with Pacquiao, that’d be the strangest thing in the world. Just wait—after the fight, it’ll be winter break. I’ll take you to celebrate the New Year back ho.”
Jason flew directly from Princeton to Manila, his heart pounding with excitent. He had admired Pacquiao for years, and now he finally had the chance to train under his idol.
Manila—often called the “New York of Asia”—was a city of contrasts: modern yet traditional, prosperous yet poor, advanced yet chaotic. The bustling Roxas Boulevard was even more vibrant than Shanghai, but just a few blocks away, the slums were shockingly dilapidated.
The mont Jason stepped out of the airport, Pacquiao’s security team surrounded him. He noticed that every guard was ard, which made the atmosphere feel tense.
The escort smiled and said, “Mr. Jason Luo, there’s no need to worry. This is normal here in the Philippines. Your safety is absolutely guaranteed.”
Once in the car, the man shared what foreigners jokingly called the “Eight Oddities of the Philippines”:
Cockroaches run wild, animals are treasures.
Guards carry guns, beggar kids sprint!
People go barefoot, smiling at all.
Traffic’s chaotic, yet crashes are rare.
Motorbikes roar, jeepneys blare.
No one sleeps early, snacks everywhere.
Short in height, but great physique.
Rich and poor—worlds apart, yet the rich never seem to age.
As they passed through the Binondo area, the man pointed out that it was the world’s largest Chinatown, ho to around 800,000 Chinese residents—locals simply called it Chinatown. The Tondo district, however, was ho to the poorest communities, and the escort warned Jason not to go there.
In the Santa sa district, Jason finally t Pacquiao. Now 43, the boxing legend was easygoing and humble in person. Upon eting Jason, he imdiately showed him around the training facility and its equipnt.
After a hearty lunch, Pacquiao got straight to the point. “Jason, Carl just finished his match—you watched it, right? What do you think? I want to hear your honest opinion first.”
Standing before the legend, Jason couldn’t help feeling nervous. “I have to admit, Carl’s strong. His technique, attack variety, rhythm, and awareness are all far beyond mine. He’s no longer just an aggressive fighter—he’s well-rounded now, with almost no weaknesses to exploit. So… yeah, the pressure’s on.”
Pacquiao nodded. “You’re right. Carl has already completed his transformation. I’ve also watched your fights. Honestly, your physical attributes are exceptional, but your offense lacks variation. You don’t have enough ring experience, and your presence—your fighting spirit—isn’t strong enough. Physically, there’s still a lot of untapped potential in you.”
“But that’s not the main issue, Jason. What matters now is—how do you plan to face a fighter as strong as Carl? I’ve fought Mayweather myself; I know how dominant his technical system is. To be honest, if you’re expecting to teach you how to technically counter that system—I can’t.”
Jason had expected that answer, but he wasn’t discouraged. “Sir, I’ve been thinking about this for days. My technique may fall short, so I won’t fight him toe-to-toe. I’ll go all-in on offense!”
Pacquiao stared at him for a long mont, then suddenly burst out laughing. “Good! That’s what I wanted to hear! I was worried you’d fall for his ga plan. If that’s your mindset, then we can make this work...”
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