At ten o’clock that night, Tony Huo finally called back.
“Jason, I just saw your missed call. I went to try out a review class earlier—believe it or not, there were actually a few pretty girls in there...”
On the other end, Jason smirked.
“If you really want to review, then go. Otherwise, don’t waste your money. Those classes aren’t cheap.”
“Hey, I was just trying it out. The first class is free anyway. Forget —what’s up with you?”
“I’ve got a challenge match tomorrow morning. I’m nervous as hell and wanted to talk it over with you.”
“What? You’re fighting tomorrow morning? Damn, that’s aweso, Jason! I know you can do it—go knock him out! What ti is it? I’ll be there for sure to back you up and let everyone see how tough my friend Jason really is...”
On the phone, Tony sounded even more hyped than Jason Luo himself, boasting nonstop until Jason felt his face grow warm.
“Alright, alright. But my opponent’s a veteran, way more experienced than . There’s a real chance I could lose tomorrow.”
There was a pause. When Tony spoke again, his tone was calr.
“Jason, I don’t know much about boxing, but at the end of the day, it’s just one head and two fists. Bring the sa fire you had when you used to fight back in school. Forget about winning or losing—what matters is your montum. And I still believe you can win!”
They weren’t words of a boxing expert, but they lit a fire in Jason’s chest.
“Tony, you’re right. Who cares—I’ll just give it everything I’ve got!”
“That’s it! Now tell the ti and place. Tomorrow morning I’ll be there to cheer you on.”
“Nine o’clock. Morusa Tavern.”
“No problem. See you in the morning. Rest up and get your energy back.”
...
After hanging up, Jason Luo felt his resolve harden. No point overthinking it. He’d just get in the ring and adjust as he went.
The next morning, Jason, an early riser by habit, woke up as usual. After finishing his workout, he grabbed a quick breakfast and jogged lightly to the training hall.
Even though he was early, Raul was already waiting. Seeing Jason in good spirits, Raul smiled.
“Jason, I knew you’d show up early. Relax, this isn’t a professional match.”
Surprised Raul had beaten him there, Jason felt a little embarrassed.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Raul. But why do we have to fight at the tavern? I think the training hall’s ring would’ve been fine.”
Raul chuckled.
“Co on, get in the car. I’ll explain on the way.”
On the ride, Raul told him that tavern matches were a tradition for amateur fighters. To break into the amateur boxing circle, skill alone wasn’t enough. Fa, popularity, and connections mattered just as much.
Taverns that regularly hosted fights drew all kinds of boxing people—retired coaches, boxers, managers, journalists, and die-hard fans. The real point of a challenge match was proving your skills and style in front of them.
And besides, fighting in a place like that helped new boxers get used to the atmosphere. Because once you turned pro, you might be facing thousands of fans all at once.
Hearing this, Jason felt his nerves tighten. He had never experienced anything like it.
Raul noticed his unease and laughed.
“Don’t worry, Jason. Hardly anyone pays attention to rookies. The big nas fight in the evening, pri ti. At nine in the morning, the tavern’s just opening. You’ll barely have an audience.”
That cald Jason down. Raul went on,
“But rember this, Jason: nobody cares about losers. Winning is what matters most. It’s the foundation of everything if you want to succeed...”
The car soon pulled up outside Morusa Tavern. Inside, only a handful of people sat scattered around the booths and bar. Raul clearly knew the place well; he greeted a few familiar faces casually before leading Jason straight to the changing room.
There, Jason put on the groin protector and boxing shorts Raul had prepared, wrapped his hands tightly, and slipped on his gloves. Raul sared Vaseline across his face, re-tied his laces, and made sure everything was secure. The only thing left was the mouthguard for when he stepped into the ring.
Raul had him move around, checking for any discomfort, then taught him a few breathing tricks. Jason was deeply grateful.
Before long, a tavern staff mber ca knocking—it was ti. Raul gave Jason’s gloves one last check, then led him out of the room.
Right outside, they ran into his opponent Jonathan, coming from the other locker room. Jonathan gave Jason a once-over, then smirked.
“So you’re the newbie who challenged ? Heh, looks like today’s match is already decided.”
Raul frowned.
“Jonathan, cut the talk. Settle it in the ring if you’ve got the guts.”
Jonathan laughed, bumping fists with Jason on purpose.
“Mr. Raul’s right. Let’s settle it in the ring. I’ll give him a real boxing lesson. Hahaha...”
Jason was about to snap back, but Raul grabbed his arm and whispered,
“Ignore him. He’s just trying to rattle you. Don’t take the bait. Pretend he’s talking nonsense and stay cool.”
...
In the lobby, Tony Huo ca running up, drenched in sweat.
“Jason, I made it! This place is so far. Riding that junk bike almost killed , but I got here just in ti.”
Seeing him, Jason felt a wave of relief. The earlier tension faded away. With the fight about to begin, he quickly introduced him.
“Mr. Raul, this is my good friend Tony Huo. If you need anything, he can help.”
Raul slipped the wet mouthguard into Jason’s mouth and glanced at Tony.
“Perfect. You can help as my corner man later.”
Still catching his breath, Tony nodded.
“No problem. Don’t worry, Jason. You got this!”
At that mont, a grizzled boxer in his fifties walked into the ring with a microphone.
“Gentlen, today’s first preliminary bout is a challenge match—Chinese fighter Jason taking on the local veteran Jonathan. Please welco both fighters to the ring!”
The announcent drew a few glances from the drinkers, but no real reaction—no cheers, not even clapping. Clearly, nobody cared much about this match.
Raul patted Jason’s shoulder.
“Go on. It’s always like this for newcors. I’m just your manager—I can’t give you tactics in the ring. From here on, it’s all up to you.”
Jason nodded, his steps heavy as he climbed onto the ring.
Once both fighters stood ready, Old Joel checked their gloves and mouthguards, briefly went over the rules, and then had them touch gloves. Finally, he raised his hand and officially declared the match begun!
---
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