Chapter 13: This Is Too Much Bullying (Please Add to Favorites and Vote for Monthly Tickets)
## Chapter 13: This Is Too Much Bullying (Please Add to Favorites and Vote for Monthly Tickets)
Boom~ Boom boom~ Boom boom boom~
"Hurry up! Faster! Richard, where's your speed? What have you been doing all this time? Why are your punches as soft as my ****? And you still want to fight professionally?"
"Use your heavy punches. Stop testing the waters. Let me tell you, this is the ring, not a movie set."
"Keep your footwork up, watch your rhythm. Oh, my God, why are your movements so slow? Did that model drain you dry?"
"Haha, speaking of that model, are you getting angry? Do you want to kill me? Hahaha, idiot, don't use so much force. Pay attention to your offensive rhythm. With your wild punches, you can't even beat a third-rate boxer."
In Bronx, on Youth Park Street, in Alvin's Boxing Gym, located in a basement, business wasn't good, and there weren't many apprentices. The gym's equipment was also very rudimentary.
In the ring, Richard was shirtless, wearing boxing gloves, and was attacking his opponent with all his might.
The opponent was a big black guy named Paul Orton, one of the old man's students.
At 22 years old, Paul was 196 cm tall and weighed 215 pounds, with a muscular build. He was training hard to participate in heavyweight professional matches.
Paul had been practicing boxing since childhood, and his punches were very powerful, almost comparable to heavyweight champions like Tyson and Lewis.
However, his mind wasn't sharp, and his movements were clumsy, far behind the agility of Lightning Richard.
"Paul, don't let that jerk control the pace. Use your strengths against him. Use your heavy punches, smash his hands hard, break his defense, and then pound his head. Disrupt his rhythm. Don't hold back, the harder, the better,"
The old man shouted from the sidelines, nearly drowning the ring with his spittle.
Boom boom boom~
Hearing the shouts, Paul steadied his pace and launched a fierce attack.
Richard, with his agile footwork and evasive maneuvers, blocked and parried left and right.
"Richard, don't retreat. In professional matches, you'll inevitably face heavyweight opponents. You need to adapt to their power and find ways to counter their heavy punches."
Alvin shouted.
Richard stopped evading and threw a series of jabs.
In boxing, depending on the position, angle, weight, and speed of the attack, punches are classified as heavy punches, straight punches, jabs, hooks, which include flat hooks, uppercuts, side hooks, and diagonal uppercuts.
Jabs are light and quick, suitable for sneaking attacks on opponents.
Three jabs, the first hitting Paul's left chin, the second was blocked, and the third struck Paul's cheek, the powerful impact causing Paul to feel dizzy and stumble back a couple of steps.
"Paul, focus! Richard wasted a year and recently messed around with women, greatly weakening his strength. If you can't even beat him in this state, you might as well go home and take care of kids. Forget about boxing."
Alvin scolded.
Paul roared, gritting his teeth and launching a rapid assault.
Boom boom boom~
Paul was 10 cm taller than Richard, with a longer reach and more powerful punches, allowing him to attack Richard's head from above.
Richard blocked and parried, retreating as he fought, his arms numb from the impacts.
"Richard, stay calm. The closer you get to the end, the less you should panic. Find the right moment to counterattack. If you can't even break Paul's offense, forget about professional matches."
Alvin shouted.
Richard steadied his steps, eyes fixed on Paul's fists.
He kept his lower body still, his waist, shoulders, neck, and head working in unison to dodge continuously, sometimes ducking, sometimes leaning back, moving at lightning speed. Sometimes, before Paul even threw a punch, Richard had already anticipated and dodged it perfectly.
"Damn it!"
Paul was furious. This bastard's head was like a turtle's, seemingly about to be hit, but always dodging nimbly at the last moment. How could he fight like this?
From the sidelines, Alvin smirked.
This kid was too damn good, with speed, precision, excellent psychological resilience, and a superb physical condition. This bastard was a perfect boxer, but he was too disobedient and wasted a whole year.
Thinking of this, Alvin gritted his teeth in anger.
"Paul, hit him hard! If you can't beat Richard, how will you compete in heavyweight matches?"
Alvin shouted.
Paul grimaced.
Three years ago, before Richard came to the gym, he was Alvin's prized student, the favored son. Alvin was very attentive to him.
But after Richard arrived, everything changed.
He lost his favored status.
From prized student to Richard's sparring partner.
He was very unhappy and challenged Richard to a duel.
At that time, he was 19 years old, with 14 years of boxing experience, while Richard was 16, just entering the gym.
In their first boxing match, Richard lost badly.
He was smug and confronted the old man, questioning his choice.
The old man just glanced at him, saying they should fight again in a month.
A month later, Paul lost the second match, then the third, then the fourth… He hadn't won since then. This was too much bullying.
Richard was too abnormal. Whether it was strength, speed, technique, or boxing awareness, he was on par with top heavyweight boxers.
With this guy around, Paul could never rise to the top.
"Paul, what's wrong?"
Seeing Paul dazed, Richard paused his punches.
"Nothing,"
Paul muttered bitterly.
"Keep fighting. Boxing matches ultimately test your stamina and willpower. If you can't endure this in daily training, how will you win in professional matches?"
Alvin shouted.
"Kill!"
Filled with resentment and frustration, Paul transformed into a black gorilla, charging viciously.
Boom~ Boom boom~ Boom boom boom~
---
Training ended around six in the evening.
Paul collapsed on the ring, and Richard lay on the ground, the old man massaging his feet and legs.
"Richard, go home and do some relaxation exercises, like jump rope, yoga, or meditation."
Alvin advised.
"Got it."
Richard didn't need relaxation exercises; a good night's sleep would make him feel revitalized the next day.
"Eat more meat regularly. You need to gain weight. At 80 kg, you're suitable for super middleweight matches, but still too light for light heavyweight."
In professional boxing, super middleweight boxers weigh around 76 kg, light heavyweight around 81 kg, and heavyweight over 91 kg.
"Alvin, what about me? Anything I need to watch out for?"
Paul asked, looking at Alvin expectantly.
"You?"
Alvin raised an eyebrow, "What does it matter? I've been telling you for over ten years, but you're lazy and don't listen. Why remind you?"
"I…"
Paul turned away, tears streaming down. Being white, handsome, and skilled at boxing was such a big deal? He swore to be whiter in his next life.
"Richard, there's one more thing you need to remember."
Alvin said.
"What is it?"
"Do you know who our biggest enemy as boxers is?"
"It's ourselves. Only by constantly defeating ourselves can we surpass our opponents."
"Wrong. Our biggest enemy is the woman in your arms."
"?"
Richard raised an eyebrow.
"Since the rise of boxing, many boxers have been invincible in the ring but ultimately fell because of women. I hope you learn from their mistakes and don't repeat them."
Alvin said seriously.
Richard smirked, "Alvin, there's something I've always wanted to ask you."
"What is it?"
Alvin asked, puzzled.
"Rumor has it that over thirty years ago, the night before your match with Ali, you played cards all night with three women in a hotel, which caused you to be weak in the legs the next day. Is that true?"
"Get lost!"
Alvin smacked him with a soul-crushing palm.
Richard laughed and got up to leave the gym.
"That kid, he's becoming more and more insufferable."
Alvin smirked, hands behind his back, walking off the ring.
"…"
Paul looked around, realizing everyone had left without even saying goodbye.
He pounded the floor in frustration. Being outclassed and ignored repeatedly was too much.
No way!
He had to work harder, strive for success.
When he became a champion, he'd flaunt his gold belt, slapping them in the face.
Paul clenched his fists.
Boom boom boom~
He resumed his practice in front of the sandbag.
"…"
Not far away, the old man glanced over, smirking.
(End of Chapter)