webnovel

boxing or actor?

support me in patreon / paypal belamy20 patreon.com/user?u=47865997 Richard, an undefeated underground fighter, is living on the edge when his life takes a dramatic turn. After being shot, he is left to reconsider his dangerous path. During his recovery, he meets young Giselle, a spirited and determined individual who reignites his passion for the sport. With Giselle by his side, Richard revives his long-held dream of becoming the king of boxing, facing new challenges and rivals in the ring as he fights not just for victory, but for redemption. support me in patreon / paypal belamy20 patreon.com/user?u=47865997

Ilham_Yamin · Anime & Comics
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152 Chs

## Chapter 110: The Princess in the Elevator (Please Subscribe)

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the fighting party hosted by Mr. Wickness."

It was a little after six in the evening. The side hall was brightly lit, with young men and women filling the audience seats, all sitting upright and looking towards the central fighting stage.

A middle-aged man in a black suit stood on stage, addressing the guests with flowery language and an impassioned tone, as if reciting poetry.

"Get on with it already and announce the fight," Paul muttered from the corner, his lips curling.

"Be quiet!" Andy shot him a look, regretting bringing him to such a place.

"And now, the most exciting part, the cage fight!"

The middle-aged man pointed to the octagonal cage behind him and introduced the night's contenders: Richard and Mark Henry. One was an international boxing champion, the other a world weightlifting champion, both fairly famous in their respective fields.

The two stood in the cage, one white and one black, one handsome and the other fierce, both bare-chested and impressively muscular.

"Isn't Richard a boxer? Why is he in a fight?" 

"I heard he's also a great fighter!"

"That black guy is so strong, like a beast. Can Richard win?"

"Maybe it's just for show, like a wrestling performance."

The crowd below was buzzing with discussion.

"Hey, Mark, are we fighting for real or just for show? There's no fun in fake fights," someone shouted.

"Haha, it's definitely real. They signed a life and death agreement before going on stage. I guarantee it's real, no tricks. I stake my honor on it!" Mark shouted back.

"Alright, let's get started!"

"Wait, anyone want to place bets? I'll be the bookmaker. Who do you think will win?" Norman stood up and shouted.

"Haha, Norman, you're the bookmaker? Can your pocket money cover the bets?"

"Don't worry, bet as much as you like, I'll cover it all!"

"Okay, I'll bet my Rolls Royce on the black guy, Mark. Do you dare to take it?"

"Deal!"

"Haha, interesting, I'll join too. I'll bet on Richard, he's one of us white folks."

With the suggestion of betting, the orderly hall turned into a chaotic scene, with the men crowding around Norman, placing various bets.

"That Norman!" Wickness's face darkened with displeasure. What was supposed to be a high-end party had turned into a street gambling den.

"Should we advise them to stop?" Assistant Jamie asked.

"Can you stop them? Go ahead, put my new car on the line. Let's see how he plans to compensate me later."

"Who do we bet on?"

"Obviously, Mark!"

"Got it," Jamie replied, taking the car keys and walking away.

---

"These guys are so boring!" Miss Ivanka Trump pouted.

"Why don't we go out and have some fun? Watching fights is so dull," Miss Amanda Hearst suggested.

"Let's wait a bit longer. Richard's fights are very exciting. In the ring, he's like a superhero; no one can beat him," Miss Paris Hilton replied.

"His boxing matches are indeed entertaining. My dad loves watching them, and I've seen a few with him. But today is a fight match, and that black guy is so strong. Can Richard win?" Miss Ivanka Trump asked, staring at the stage.

"Of course he can. I have a friend who is a big fan of Richard and has researched him. Richard was born in the Bronx and used to fight in underground arenas, participating in wrestling, fighting, and boxing. He's never lost. People in the Bronx call him the undefeated god. Last time I saw him fight, many people were chanting that," Paris Hilton explained.

"But today's match is tough. The black guy, Mark, is a world weightlifting champion and can lift nearly 1,000 pounds. A thousand pounds! Can you imagine that?" Amanda Hearst said.

"But I still think Richard can win. Look at him; he stands on stage like a marble statue, his face never showing fear. He always looks so confident," Paris Hilton said with a smile.

"If you believe he can win, you can place a bet with Norman. Maybe you can win some pocket money," Amanda Hearst teased.

"Dare you?"

"Alright, let's do it!"

Paris Hilton waved her small fist and said to her attendant, "Go tell Mr. Holiday that I'm betting 100,000 on Richard."

"Yes!" The attendant nodded.

"Are you guys betting?" Paris Hilton smiled.

"I'll play too. My dad said Richard is very good and smart in boxing. I'll bet 50,000 on him to win." Miss Eva Catton laughed.

"I still think the weightlifting champion is better, but I'll bet on Richard with you guys. I'll bet 10,000." Amanda Hurst said.

"Okay, please wait!" The attendant nodded and walked to Norman's betting point. There were many people at the betting point. Norman sat in the middle, constantly registering with his computer, his face flushed with excitement.

"Fuck, Norman, this bastard is almost turning my party into a casino." Seeing the girls also go to bet, Wickness's face darkened. "Go tell Norman to give him five more minutes. We'll start the match in five minutes."

"Okay!"

——

Under the dazzling lights, the octagonal cage shimmered with cold silver light, and Richard stood quietly in the corner, motionless.

The overhead lights fell on him, his handsome cheeks glowed with dazzling white light, his flying eyebrows, high nose bridge, and slightly raised corners of his mouth were like exquisite sculptures in an art exhibition, with distinct edges and corners.

And opposite him, the black man Mark kept walking back and forth, snorting from his nose, his fists constantly hitting his palms, making a popping sound, looking a little restless.

Richard could see that this guy had taken drugs beforehand, and now the effect of the drugs was slowly taking effect, with an abnormal blush on his face.

This kind of thing is not uncommon in underground boxing rings, but the effect is very general. Real fighters rely on skill to win the game, not occasional outbursts.

"Both gentlemen, please get ready!" After waiting for more than ten minutes, the match was finally about to begin. The young masters who had placed bets also returned to their seats. Order was restored at the scene, and everyone quietly watched the octagonal cage, like Roman nobles preparing to watch a gladiator match.

"Start!" The middle-aged man shook the bell.

"Roar!" As soon as he heard the order, the black man Mark rushed over like a beast released from a cage, his thick arms in the shape of horns, trying to hug him tightly.

Richard didn't care what moves he used. When the opponent rushed over, he slammed his right elbow into the opponent's wrist joint, and with his left fist wearing a knuckle duster, he rushed towards the opponent's forehead swiftly.

Because the height difference was not big, and the opponent didn't pay attention to defense, his fist easily hit the opponent's forehead.

Bang! Mark's head jerked back suddenly, his huge body and big feet stomped on the ground, bang bang bang, he retreated five or six steps in a row, and with a bang, he hit the octagonal cage.

Clang~ The steel pillars of the iron cage made a creaking sound, and the people sitting outside the iron cage hurriedly changed their positions, worried that the cage would collapse.

"Mark, charge for me!"

"Mark, fight, I bet a car on you."

"Mark, go hit him!" A group of people shouted.

"Roar!" In the iron cage, the black man Mark patted his forehead, roared, and rushed over with red eyes and heavy steps. He stretched out his thick arms and blocked Richard's retreat.

"Do you know me?"

Miss Ivanka Trump blinked.

"Yes, Norman introduced you to me."

Richard said.

Ivanka nodded slightly and looked at him again. This guy was on the stage boxing, shirtless, and punched the head of the world's strongest man with one punch. He looked very fierce.

Now he was wearing a neat suit, white shirt, and black tie, against his fair and handsome face, looking like a gentle English teacher, or a tasteful artist, quiet and gentle, and made people feel very safe.

"Mr. Brad, you played very well today."

Ivanka pursed her lips and said.

"Thank you, Mr. Mark Henry is a weightlifter and not good at fighting, so the fight went smoothly."

Richard said modestly.

"He claims to be the strongest man in the world, and you can beat him, which means you are stronger."

Ivanka insisted.

"Haha, thank you, I am indeed stronger."

Richard chuckled, clenching his fist.

Ivanka smiled slightly and suddenly remembered something, "Mr. Brad, have you seen Paris?"

"No, is there something wrong?"

"Haha, Paris is probably disappointed. She said she would ask you to dance later, but you left early. If you stayed, maybe something good would happen. Do you want to go back?"

Ivanka blinked and smiled mischievously.

Richard shook his head, looked at his watch and said, "It's almost twelve o'clock, and if I stay longer, some bad things will happen."

"Oh, what bad things?"

Ivanka asked puzzled.

Richard smiled softly, "Before I came, the fairy told me that I must be back before twelve o'clock at night, otherwise I will be exposed when the magic disappears."

"..."

Ivanka was stunned for a moment, then covered her mouth and laughed.

In the fairy tale "Cinderella", the fairy casts magic to turn Cinderella into a noble lady and let her go to the castle to attend the prince's ball.

She also told her that she must come back before twelve o'clock, otherwise she will become an ordinary Cinderella again after the magic disappears. Richard is comparing himself to Cinderella.

"Mr. Brad, did you lose your glass slipper when you left?"

Ivanka laughed.

"No!"

"That's a pity, how can the prince find you without glass slippers?"

Ivanka laughed.

Richard raised his lips and took out a pair of finger gloves from his pocket,

"Are crystal gloves okay?"

"Haha, yes."

Ivanka took one of the gloves, "I will give this glove to Paris, so that your fairy tale will be complete."

"Miss Hilton?"

"Yes, this is the Hilton Hotel, equivalent to a castle, Paris is the prince, and you are Cinderella. She just wanted to invite you to dance, and the more I think about it, the more I feel it fits."

Ivanka laughed.

Richard shrugged, "But I think you are the real princess."

"Thank you, no, I'm the prince, Prince Trump, haha~"

Ding~

The elevator reached the bottom floor and the two walked out together.

"Richard, it was fun chatting with you, let's chat again sometime!"

"Okay, goodbye!"

The two shook hands and Miss Trump drove away in a luxury car.

Richard looked at the luxury car in the distance, pulled the corners of his mouth, and unexpectedly met a big shot tonight, the future big princess, but her father looked so unreliable, this kind of person can also be the president? I don't know what the future of America will be like, alas~

Dingling~

The phone rang, it was Bundchen's call.

"Honey, I'll be there soon, at most fifteen minutes, see you later!"

Richard got into a taxi and disappeared into the neon-lit street.

--

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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