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Shortly after the match, news appeared in the sports sections of newspapers like the New York Post, Chicago Tribune, and USA Today: former light heavyweight champion Montell Griffin announced his retirement.
The articles mentioned Montell's two defeats, one to champion Roy Jones Jr. and another to a young, debutant boxer named Richard Blade.
The authors speculated that these two defeats were the main reasons for Montell's early retirement.
This news didn’t stir much reaction from the public, but it sparked some discussion within the boxing community.
Montell had been famous for many years, participated in 50 matches, and defeated numerous top fighters, including several professional boxers with championship titles.
His skills were unquestionable.
But Richard Blade, at just twenty years old, without a single professional match under his belt, could defeat Montell?
Not very likely.
Some speculated that Montell had aged and his performance had declined, leading to his loss to a newcomer.
Others suggested Montell intentionally lost, engaging in match-fixing for money.
Some said that the match wasn’t a professional one, making it highly manipulable and that winning or losing didn’t matter.
Some people who bought the videotape of the match watched it and then fell silent.
After a few days of discussion, Richard's name successfully entered the public eye.
Richard, however, was not concerned with public opinion; he was busy buying a house.
---
"Richard, this is the sales contract. Once you sign it, this property will be yours."
In a law firm in the Bronx, lawyer Gilbert spread out a document.
Richard nodded, took the pen, and swiftly signed his name.
"Richard, congratulations! You've finally got back what belongs to you."
Gilbert clapped his hands and smiled.
"Thanks. You should come over sometime; I have many legal questions I want to ask you."
Richard said, putting away the contract.
"What questions? We can discuss them here."
Gilbert adjusted his glasses.
"I can't afford it. Three hundred dollars an hour, and I'd go bankrupt discussing things for a day."
"Haha, you’re really stingy. You’re worth tens of thousands, and you’re haggling over a few hundred dollars with me?"
Gilbert scolded.
"I have to be frugal. After buying the house, I'm broke."
Richard pulled at his pocket.
"Alright, why don't you transfer all your legal matters to me? I'll charge you an annual fee, five thousand a year, how about it?"
"Lower, three thousand?"
"Screw you, this is a law firm, not a market. Are you really bargaining with me?"
Gilbert said angrily.
"Okay, okay. The cost of this time is included in the annual fee, right?"
"You, you are really stingy!"
Gilbert pointed at him, helplessly extended his hand, "Pleasure doing business!"
Richard smiled.
---
"Richard, did you really buy back the building?"
On Jackson Street, in front of building No. 404, Susan asked excitedly.
"Yes, I bought it back."
Richard showed her the property deed.
"Oh~, that's great! Richard, your mom and dad in heaven would be so happy for you."
Susan hugged him.
"Really?"
Richard looked up at the sky, which was very blue. He wondered if there was a heaven.
He then looked at the two-story building in front of him, with its exposed red brick structure and black iron-framed arched windows, old-fashioned and rustic in style. The small balcony on the second floor, with a few lush green plants, added a bit of charm.
This used to be his home. After his father died, his mother fell seriously ill and needed a lot of money, so they had to sell it to a real estate company.
When he became an adult, he kept renting the place with the aim of buying it back one day.
With the money he won from the recent match, nearly forty thousand dollars, plus his savings, it was just enough to buy the property. Without hesitation, he approached the real estate company.
After some negotiation, he reclaimed his home.
His feelings were mixed.
Richard sighed.
Bang~ Bang~ Bang~
Suddenly, a few party poppers went off in the air, with ribbons and confetti raining down on his head.
"Haha, Richard, surprised?"
"Richard, congratulations!"
Anthony, Paul, Mike, and a few young people from the street emerged from around, smiling and offering their congratulations.
"Thanks, this is great."
Richard smiled at the drifting confetti.
"There's more to come!"
Bang! Bang!
Anthony and Paul opened two bottles of champagne, spraying it all over the yard in front of the building.
Richard wiped the champagne from his face. These guys were really extravagant, wasting two-hundred-dollar champagne.
"Thanks, today we'll have a party."
Richard shouted.
"Alright!"
"Just us guys?"
Anthony asked.
"Haha, with me here, are you worried about no girls?"
Mike grinned.
"Alright, Mike, go get some girls, lots of them."
Paul shouted.
"No problem!"
"."
Richard's expression changed. This housewarming party better not turn into a wild party.
"Susan, you can also invite the neighbors to join in."
"Sure, everyone will be very happy to know you got your house back."
Susan left excitedly.
"Oh~No, Richard, if you invite those old ladies, how are we supposed to have fun?"
Anthony and the others asked with dark faces.
"Hey, we're all friends, what does it matter?"
Richard smiled and walked into the door with his hands behind his back.
"So, should we still call the girls?"
Mike asked, holding his phone.
"No way, my mom will definitely come. How can we have fun?"
Robert from next door complained.
"It’s okay, we can invite a few familiar girls to play on the second floor and leave the first floor to them."
Anthony suggested.
"Hehe, that could work!"
"Is your sister home, Robert?"
"Screw you!"
After fooling around at home for a day, Richard went back to the gym to continue training the next day.
In December, the WBC light heavyweight championship tournament would begin.
The tournament was divided into three stages: the qualifiers, semifinals, and the championship challenge match.
First, he would compete with fighters of the same level. The winners would qualify for the semifinals. The ultimate winner could challenge the current champion. Winning the challenge would earn the title belt. Roy Jones Jr.'s belt was won this way.
The tournament would run from December to July 1998, with specific times and locations to be announced.
Before the competition started, he needed to do more training.
"102, 103, 104, 105"
On the pull-up bar, Richard was doing arm strength exercises, with several weight plates hanging from his waist, wearing just a single shirt.
After his match with Montell, he identified some issues with himself.
For instance, his defensive skills were not refined enough, making it easy for opponents to find weaknesses and land punches on his face.
He also excelled at quick jabs, but his punches lacked explosive power.
Among the people he had sparred with, Paul had the heaviest punch, with a single blow reaching 1200 pounds. Montell's punch was around 1000 pounds.
His punch was only 800 pounds.
This strength was decent in the underground boxing scene, but in the professional boxing world, it was filled with fierce competitors. It was said that Tyson's punch exceeded 1600 pounds, which was terrifying.
If he had Tyson's explosive power, he could have KO'd Montell with one punch in the last match, instead of hitting his brow over 30 times to make him bleed.
So, he needed to strengthen his power training.
"117, 118, 119"
"Tsk tsk, Richard, why are you so diligent? You're making me feel bad for sleeping in."
Paul yawned as he walked over.
"Once you're here, train seriously. Stop talking nonsense."
Alvin came over with his hands behind his back.
"Hehe, I'll train right away. Wait, what's that smell?"
Paul sniffed, his eyes falling on Alvin, "Alvin, what did you bring that's so good?"
"Nothing, hurry up and train."
Alvin said with a stern face.
"Alright!"
Paul rubbed his nose, glancing back every few steps as he walked to the barbell rack, picked up a 100kg barbell, and started lifting, his eyes subconsciously looking toward Richard.
When Richard finished his pull-ups, the old man took out a big lunch box and opened the lid, releasing an enticing aroma.
The old man said it was some beef and lamb bone soup that had been simmering all night, along with delicious beef, best eaten while hot.
Sniffing the aroma, Paul felt his mouth water and tears flow. Why was there such a difference in treatment between disciples? It was so unfair.
"Paul, come have some beef."
Richard called.
"No way!"
Paul turned his face away. If I go when called, wouldn't that be losing face?
"If I call you, come. Stop being so fussy. This is something Richard ordered from that Chinese restaurant, good for strengthening the body. If you want some, you can order it too. You’re not short on money."
The old man said.
"Really? Then I'll try some. If it's good, I'll order it too."
Paul rubbed his hands and ran over with a smile.
"Wow~, it smells so good!"
Richard smiled and also started eating heartily.
Currently, he weighed only 81 kilograms and needed to gain more weight and strength. So, he needed to adjust his diet.
After eating the nutritious meal, he continued his physical training.
---
Bang bang~
(End of this chapter)