Chapter 5

The day when I found you crying in the street as if it was the end of the world, I noticed you had a rather athletic physique, so I lent a hand as I passed by. I don't know what happened to you to put you in that state, but the fact that you're now sitting in front of me, willing to do anything to find your family, is not something just anyone can achieve.

I smiled humbly at him, grateful for his words of encouragement. "I didn't have a choice, Joe. My family means more to me than anything, and I'm ready to do whatever it takes."

He nodded as if he understood perfectly. "It's that determination that I want to see in boxing."

"I have no other choice, Mr. Joe. If I want to see my family again someday, I have to keep moving forward."

The next day, when I arrived at the club, Coach Martinez was already waiting for me.

"Ethan, come over here; we're going to start your first lesson. And probably the most important one," he said mysteriously.

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just nodded for him to continue.

He handed me a headgear and worn-out gloves.

"What do you think is most important in a boxing match, Ethan?" he asked as he started warming up.

As I put on the headgear and gloves, I thought about Martinez's question. "Well, I guess technique and strategy are important, as well as physical fitness. But there must be something else that's crucial, right?"

Martinez smiled, seeming to appreciate my thinking. "You're right, Ethan. Technique, strategy, and physical fitness are essential. But there's an even more important element: mentality. Boxing is also a mental battle."

He continued warming up while talking. "Self-confidence, concentration, the ability to stay calm under pressure, these are crucial mental qualities for a boxer. Boxing can be a brutal sport but also a physical chess game. You need to anticipate your opponent's moves, react quickly, and keep your emotions in check."

I listened attentively. "So, how do you work on mentality in boxing?"

Martinez stopped and looked me straight in the eyes. "That's what we're going to find out today, Ethan. We'll start with an exercise that will test your mentality."

He approached me and said, "First, get in your guard position and keep your eyes open."

I followed his instructions, and before I could understand what had happened, I felt a blow to my face, sending me to the ground.

Looking up, I saw Martinez looking at me with a smirk. "In this lesson, I'm going to teach you how to take hits and not be afraid. Most importantly, don't close your eyes when you see a punch coming. Now get up; we don't have all day."

He made me take off the headgear, and then began instructing me on how to prepare to take punches. "The first thing to remember, Ethan, is to stay calm. Fear and panic are a boxer's worst enemies. Keep your eyes open, even when you see a punch coming. That's how you'll learn to anticipate and react."

Martinez was right; I couldn't freeze up every time my opponent attacked. If I couldn't even keep my eyes open, all my promises to Joe would be in vain.

Seeing the determination in my eyes, Martinez smiled. "I prefer that look. Let's continue. Don't worry if you can't do it at first. You just have to grit your teeth until you get it. That's how most things in this world work."

Martinez encouraged me to keep going, and we resumed the exercise. Each time I saw a punch coming, I tried not to close my eyes, to keep my gaze fixed on my opponent, and to react appropriately. But my body had a different opinion. Unconsciously, I would close my eyes and brace for the impact.

However, I wasn't in a rush. I would progress step by step, and eventually, I would get there. Toward the end of today's session, my eyes remained open as my body began to respond correctly according to Martinez's instructions.

"You're doing well, Ethan. We'll stop here for the morning lesson. You have your first day of work this afternoon, right?" he asked, not even looking tired after two hours of intense training.

I wiped sweat from my forehead and nodded in response to Martinez's question. "Yes, that's right. Mr. Joe managed to find me a job on the docks. I have my first day of work this afternoon. I'll have to leave soon."

Martinez gave me an approving smile. "Good. Don't forget that boxing and the work you're undertaking go hand in hand. The discipline you learn here will help you in all aspects of your life."

I shook his hand with gratitude. "I'm grateful for this opportunity, Coach. I'll give it my all."

Martinez nodded. "That's all I ask. Now, rest up this afternoon, and come back here for the evening training. You're on the right track, Ethan."

I wholeheartedly committed to my training at JM's Boxing Club in the following days. Each session was an intense lesson in endurance, technique, and perseverance. Under Coach Martinez's guidance, I gradually improved my boxing skills, learning to channel my energy and execute precise movements.

Every morning, I woke up sore, but it was a satisfying ache, a tangible proof of my dedication to this new path. In addition to my training sessions, I continued to explore this retro version of New York. The cobblestone streets, old buildings, and colorful signs constantly reminded me that I was far from my own time and family.

Every time I thought about it, my heart ached, and tears welled up in my eyes. My job on the docks allowed me to rent a small room in a building not far from the boxing club.

I didn't know my new neighbors well; I rarely saw them due to my busy schedule. I woke up at dawn, starting my day with a 30-minute jog before heading to the club for my morning session with Coach Martinez and some regulars.

Then, in the early afternoon, I went to my job on the docks, unloading cargo from the ships. I usually left the docks around 6 p.m. I took a 1.5-hour break before returning to the boxing club for the evening training.

By the time I arrived home, it was generally 10 p.m. The mysterious leather-bound book I had discovered continued to occupy my thoughts. Every night, I took it out of my jacket and reread the words written inside.

The call of the power contained in its pages was tempting, but I resisted the temptation to delve too deeply into its content. I felt that I had to first master my own present before embarking on such a mysterious journey.

Then I remembered an evening about three weeks ago. I was sitting on my bed, contemplating the book's content when I suddenly heard the sound of someone trying to pick my lock. Without time to do anything else, I grabbed the wooden stick I kept near my bed and hid behind the door, preparing to neutralize the intruder.

As the door opened, the intruder entered my room. He began to look around as he ventured into the room. Suddenly, his gaze fixed on something. As I looked at what he was staring at, my heart skipped a beat. I had forgotten the Omniscia on my bed.

The intruder picked up the book and casually flipped through it. But then his body froze. In an instant, the intruder who had broken into my home had his eyes locked onto the second page of the Omniscia. His features went from nonchalance to confusion, then to fascination. He read the words with increasing intensity as if he were absorbed by a new and strange reality.

Suddenly, the intruder let out a muffled scream and strange black veins began spreading across his body. The sight unfolding before me was as fascinating as it was terrifying.

The black veins spreading across the intruder's body seemed to pulse to the rhythm of his scream. His face displayed an expression of pain mixed with fascination as if he were witnessing something extraordinary but paying a terrible price.

But as the seconds passed, the intruder seemed unable to hold on any longer as his facial orifices began to bleed.

The blood flowing from his facial orifices added an even more unsettling dimension to the already disturbing scene. I stood there, helpless, while the intruder continued to suffer the consequences of reading the second page of the leather-bound book.

However, the transformation of the intruder didn't stop there. His screams intensified, and I could see sparks emanating from his skin before it turned into ashes. It began with the tips of his fingers in contact with the book and quickly traveled up the intruder's arms, leaving nothing behind.

Lost in the horror of the scene, I didn't realize that the intruder's screams were getting fainter before disappearing entirely, leaving no trace of the intruder except for a small pile of ashes on the floor.

I stood alone in my room, and if it weren't for that small pile of ashes on the floor, I would have probably thought it was all a dream.

I stood there, stunned and frightened by what I had just witnessed. The intruder had paid a terrible price for reading the second page, and he simply ceased to exist.

After picking up the book with trembling hands, I carefully closed the leather-bound book, aware that its power was far beyond what I had imagined. Kassim, the Guardian of Knowledge, had been right to warn me.

My experience with the intruder had been a brutal reminder of the dangers that resided within the pages of this mysterious book, and I now knew that my quest for knowledge had to be conducted with extreme caution.