death of hope

Chapter 37 "Flying Windfall" (37) Boxing Champion

The boxing duel was chosen in an abandoned underground warehouse in the block, and the dust was flying in it. After turning on the humidifier and watering it, it got better.

The gate of the iron fence was wide open, and neighbors from all over the neighborhood came to watch, drinking drinks, eating snacks, and even the elderly with their children in their arms to watch.

The atmosphere was too relaxed, it didn't look like you were going to fight to the death, but it was like a small gathering between neighbors to clear up misunderstandings.

The men with fluorescent tattoos stood together, all members of the gang "Black Command" in the neighborhood, the boss Robert was wearing a black gentleman's suit and a bow tie.

Dressed brightly, he is surrounded by younger brothers in white vests and jeans, and the gap in style creates a sense of humor.

After a horrible muffled sound, Robert's proxy boxer—a big man nicknamed "Titan" received a powerful swing, the braces fell out, and his heavy body hit the ground, his legs stretched out, unaffected The control ground started to swing, and the referee went over and started counting down:
"Knocked down! 10...9...8..."

An aunt holding a child stomped her feet and shouted: "My God, uncle, what are you doing, go and help this young man, someone is going to die!"

At the end of the countdown, the host regretted losing. A group of gang members climbed over the elastic rope of the ring and surrounded them, "Are you okay, Titan?" Some even started artificial respiration.

The big boxer opened his eyes: "Go to the fuck... idiots, get out of the way... so many people, I can't breathe..."

"Hey, he's still panting, and he still has the strength to yell at the street, so he won't die!" A gang boy shouted; "I just don't know if he will become disabled."

The victorious proxy fighter took off his gloves: "I've got the power under control, he'll be fine."

"You won, old neighbor." Robert loosened his tie and shook hands with Roy: "Tell me, where did you find the agent boxer... This is too powerful."

"It's an employee of a security company."

"Call him over for a chat."

The agent boxer put on his overalls - it was a special operations trench coat made of high-tech fabrics, the armband velcro was embroidered with the logo of Norton Security Company, and he stood beside Roy in a military posture, with his hands behind his back .

"Your commission is complete. If there is no other order, I will return to the base. The armored vehicle is still waiting for me outside."

"Don't rush away." Robert greeted the boxer: "Dude, you are too fierce, stay and have a drink."

"You can't desert during working hours, you need the client's permission."

"You're too stiff, man," said Roy; "I'll let you sit down and have a drink."

"No way, the company stipulates that customers come first, and you are still a black gold card VIP customer." The boxer sat down and said, "Thank you, I just happen to be thirsty."

A few wine tables were placed next to the boxing ring. In order to show the majesty of the gang boss, everyone in the audience got a share, and they were all given snacks and drinks. The children in the community were running and playing around. The little girl stared at the automatic rifle in the gang member's hand, stretched out her little hand to touch it, but was gently persuaded away:
"Little Jessie, you should play with the doll, it's dangerous."

Old Jon, the most respected man in the block, and his shop assistants sat at a large table, and Miss Susan, who had changed back to her daily attire, also came.

Several armed gang members went to stand guard outside the iron fence to prevent other armed groups from launching a surprise attack. In today's chaotic situation, only violence can stop violence.

Robert opened a bottle of brandy and asked, "What's your name, macho."

"Michael Damnesson, just call me Dyson."

"Dyson... the heavyweight boxing champion? The owner of the four boxing gold belts?"

"If a hero doesn't mention his bravery, it's all in the past."

"No wonder you look so familiar, so you are a big star on TV." Robert held up his glass: "Dude, you can't be a cyborg or a robot, right? That fist swings like a big hammer on a construction site. Breathe with the wind."

"I am a 100% human body. It is not difficult to punch hard. You can do it with hard work. What is difficult is balance and pace, which requires talent."

The knocked down boxer "Titan" recovered and came to give Dyson a high five:
"You're really good, dude, you punched so hard, my eyes were filled with gold stars, my dick was spinning, and shit was about to come out of you."

"Sorry, friend."

"Hey, why are you apologizing? If you want to give in to me, that would be called disrespect!"

"Actually, you are already very strong, close to professional level."

"Brother, I have been practicing in the club for two years, and I have rarely met opponents in half the city. This time I am completely convinced! Alright, let's go first, I have to go see my teeth."

"Wait," Robert called "Titan" and stuffed a stack of banknotes into his palm; "It's been hard work, take a good rest."

"Thanks, boss." The big man nodded his notes and left while whistling.

Robert continued to pour wine: "Heavyweight boxing champion Dyson, a living legend, a gentleman in the boxing ring, has never been involved in a doping scandal, and never talked trash before provoking his opponents. He is really an amazing person."

"That was the peak period." Dyson lowered his head: "At the end of his career, he will lose his insurance at the end of the year, squander all his money, and owe a whole lot of debt to pay off. In the end, he can only apply for a job at a security company and exchange his life for money."

"Being a little carried away by the joy of success, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I made a group of cronies, and they encouraged me to take hallucinogens, ruined my body, couldn't play games, lost my advertising agency, and then I broke up with my agent, went to jail, divorced, and started my life. Downhill."

"Boxer, when was the turning point in your life?" asked Old Jon at the next table.

Dyson thought for a while: "In the match where I KO the new boxing genius Sakayev, I defended the WBO gold belt for the third time. That was the pinnacle of my career, but at this time, Mr. D'Amato Passed away.

He had a good eye and thought I was talented, so he paid for it and brought me, a skinny orphan from the slums, to the gymnasium to fight boxing, teaching me from scratch.

For me, Mr. D'Amato is not only a mentor, but also a loving father. I don't have the money to hire a physical trainer and a nutritionist, so he does it all by himself.

After each practice, he massaged my muscles, saved money, and bought me fresh hot milk. Thanks to this, I can grow taller and stronger, and my technical strength has become more and more superb.

After he left, no one would do that again, no more.

The agent only accepts money, and lures me into the abyss step by step. If Coach D'Amato is still alive, everything will be very different. "

(End of this chapter)