Tomorrow, a new chapter in his life would open, but God closed the cover of the book. When he opened his eyes on the First Floor of Hell, he had to face off a whole new reality. All the rules were being rewritten, and he had to pick up the pen if he wanted to get out of here. He had to find those like him and play the role of leadership he had escaped all his life.
"Hey baby, hey, look at that neck!"
"Little Bear Boy!"
Hearing the audience talking, I involuntarily glanced once more at Toraman, who was walking slowly but firmly in front of the machine.
Indeed, the man did not deny that he had grown up in the countryside. It is not known whether it was the effect of complete organic nutrition or whether it was in genetics, but the foundation seemed solid.
"Even though it's embarrassing to get here before you two, I'll forget about it while I'm eating your money."
As soon as Toraman finished speaking, he drew a half-moon and slammed his fist into the bag hanging from the machine.
This time the sound came not from the crowd but directly from the device itself, the young man taking refuge in the creator and banging his fist.
2050!
Toraman's hand was unsteady. He would have hit 300 more hits than the boxer who had just gotten into a decent position.
"I guess I didn't quite hit it!"