Chapter 2: One Step Away from Being a Champion

Chapter 2: One Step Away from Being a Champion

"Go Link! His nose is injured, attack his nose!"

"Link, you're about to win, hang in there!"

"Link, get up, damn it, that's a million dollars, get up and you'll get a million!"

"Link—"

Link suddenly opened his eyes and sat up in bed, taking a few deep breaths to calm his pounding heart. For a moment, he felt disoriented.

He had been dreaming again.

He dreamed of himself in an underground fighting ring on the border of Myanmar and Thailand, fighting for a one million dollar prize in a cage match, only to be beaten to death in the finals.

In the days since he transmigrated, he often dreamed of his past life at night. He dreamed of how he hadn't even finished high school before following his uncle to work as a miner in a private iron mine in the western mountains, pushing a cart full of ore out every day.

The exit was a slope, and each time he had to hold his breath and push with all his might to get the hundreds of pounds of ore out of the mine.

He would go back and forth seventy or eighty times a day, exhausted by the end of each shift, lying in bed like a dead man.

He did this kind of work for three years.

When he was eighteen, he was eating at a restaurant when he encountered a robbery. He instinctively threw a punch, knocking the robber out and breaking three of his ribs.

His boxing coach, Old Liu, was also eating at the restaurant at the time.

Seeing his strength and agility, Old Liu asked if he would be willing to learn boxing.

Hearing that there was a monthly stipend of three thousand yuan, he readily agreed to Old Liu's proposal and started training with him, participating in amateur competitions in the country.

His amateur record was 12 wins in 12 fights. In the thirteenth match, he got too caught up in the fight and accidentally killed his opponent with a punch. Although it was manslaughter, he was still sentenced to three years in prison.

This imprisonment had a huge impact on him. Not only did he lose his qualification to represent the country, but he was also expelled from the provincial boxing team and blacklisted by other boxing clubs. He could only participate in underground boxing with Old Liu.

At the age of twenty-eight, someone organized a no-rules fighting competition on the Myanmar-Thailand border, inviting fighters, wrestlers, and boxers from various countries to participate, with a one million dollar prize for the champion.

He went with Old Liu to participate in the competition.

After six rounds of elimination, he successfully made it to the finals. However, underground fighting didn't emphasize rules, and there were many dirty tricks. He was injured in every match.

In the final match, his old injuries flared up, and he was beaten to death in the ring.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital in Miami, having become an American named Link Baker.

Link Baker, twenty years old.

When he was fifteen, his father died in a street shootout, and his mother remarried. Link Baker became a street punk, dealing drugs, drag racing, stealing, and frequently getting into fights, leading to multiple incarcerations.

A few weeks ago, in a street fight, he was stabbed in the back with a knife and died from excessive blood loss, which Link then took over.

This diving shop was inherited from his grandfather, an old fisherman who opened a diving shop on the beach when he was too old to fish.

After waking up, Link took over the shop and became a diver. Although he didn't earn much money every day, looking at the sunshine, beach, and sea, his mood gradually improved, and the discomfort caused by transmigration slowly disappeared.

He was quite satisfied with his current life.

"Hey, welcome to Miami." Link smiled at himself in the mirror. The person in the mirror had neat short black hair, narrow double eyelids, chiseled features as handsome as a sculpture, and deep blue eyes like the sea outside the window, profound, pure, with a hint of melancholy.

This face and temperament were somewhat similar to his past life, which was another point he was quite satisfied with.

Coming out of the bathroom, Link changed into a red lettered tracksuit, wrapped two ten-pound sandbags around his waist, and went for a morning run on the beach.

It was past four in the morning, and the sky outside was not yet bright. The sky was dotted with stars, the crescent moon hung like a hook, and the distant sea appeared calm in the night, with only a few small islands protruding from the water, dark and swaying with vegetation, like the exposed skulls of sea monsters.

Link ran along the seaside road, starting from the diving shop and heading north to Palm Beach District Seaside Park, a distance of about fifteen kilometers.

He ate two slices of ham pizza at Joisce's Pizza and continued running back.

As he passed the public pier, a pleasant guitar sound drifted in the wind, adding a touch of elegance to the early morning beach.

He ran past the pier and saw a girl in a long blue dress sitting on a redwood deck, holding a guitar in her arms, one leg bent, the other hanging in the air, casually swinging, with a white bandage wrapped around her calf.

Her golden hair was lifted by the sea breeze, revealing her fair and rosy profile. It was Taylor Swift, whom he had met yesterday. She was staying at the Hyatt Place Hotel in Palm Beach District, not far from here.

"Hi, Link!" The girl suddenly turned around and smiled at him.

"Hi!" Link waved and slowed down. "It's windy here, want to come sit in the shop?"

"Sure!" Taylor nodded, put down her guitar, and slowly stood up, holding onto the railing.

Link walked onto the pier, helped her carry the guitar case, and supported her arm with one hand.

Back at the shop, Link took a shower, changed into dry clothes, and cooked two steaks and two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice in the kitchen, then brought them to the front of the shop.

Taylor was sitting on a beach chair, strumming her guitar with her calf propped up. There was a sheet of music and a pen on the table, as if she was composing a new song. Seeing him coming with food, Taylor put down her guitar and thanked him.

"Link, do you go for a morning run every day?" Taylor looked at his strong arms, the chest and abdominal muscles visible even through his loose T-shirt, very sexy, making her unable to help but look a few more times.

"Almost, except on rainy days."

"I'm the same as you. I practice guitar every day, but I prefer rainy days. Sitting by the window and watching the rain gives me more inspiration," Taylor said, curving her lips and gesturing with her fork.

"Writing songs on rainy days? Sounds very romantic." Link smiled, cut the steak into small pieces with a knife, and kept putting them in his mouth with his fork. It only took him two minutes to finish an 800-gram steak.

After transmigrating, not only did his physical fitness double, but his appetite also doubled. He had to eat a lot of food at each meal to feel full, and James called him a glutton.

By the time he finished eating, Taylor had only eaten half of her small steak.

"I don't cook often, so the taste is average. You can leave the rest if you can't finish it," Link said, looking at her plate.

"No! It's delicious." Taylor shook her head, her golden ponytail swaying. She pointed at the sea and the beach and smiled slightly. "I just think it's very romantic. Sunrise, the sea, the white beach, the palm trees, and having breakfast face to face with a handsome guy, it feels like being in a movie."

Link chuckled. It sounded nice, but he thought the most romantic thing for a man was to knock his opponent out completely with a fierce swing in the boxing ring. That was what he called romance.

(End of Chapter)