Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

We are the champions my friends

And we'll keep on fighting till the end

We are the champions

We are the champions

No time for losers

Before the match began, the organizer invited five local Miami bands to perform on stage to warm up for the upcoming boxing match.

Over ten thousand spectators passionately sang along, creating a very lively atmosphere at the venue.

After the last band finished "We are the champions," the match began.

The finals were divided into two types, the first being the ranking contest, where the top twenty boxers of each rank competed to see who had the highest ranking.

The setup for the ranking matches was simple, each of the four divisions—east, west, south, north—would have the first-place boxer from one division fight the second-place boxer from another division.

If the first-place winners from all four divisions won their matches, they would then fight each other.

If a first-place boxer was defeated, the ranking of the entire division would drop by one.

Those ranked third, fourth, and fifth would draw lots to fight.

Link's first-round opponent was Mario Morales from the Western Division, Los Angeles area. Although sharing the name Mario, they looked nothing alike in appearance, physique, or demeanor.

This Mario was Black, had full dreadlocks, was extremely muscular with particularly large chest and arm muscles, and had a thick waist.

He was the second place in this year's Golden Gloves Western Division, fourth place in last year's national amateur championships, and third place in the Pan American Games boxing event. He was 24 this year, weighed 77.8 kilograms, was 180 centimeters tall, and had an amateur record of 35 fights with 27 wins and 8 losses.

Mario Morales was a power boxer with very strong fists and a sturdy body with excellent resistance.

With these two strengths, he fought through many opponents to reach the divisional finals.

His weaknesses were short arms, not enough agility, and somewhat coarse techniques.

Defeating him was not difficult; the hard part was, how do you knock out a well-built strong man with padded gloves?

"Hey, kid, heard you want to KO all of us? Quite the treat, how hilarious. I'm good at KOs too. Let's see today, who gets KO'd first?"

Morales clenched his fists and vigorously thumped his solid chest, making a thudding sound.

So strong!

Link was a bit troubled, but he had already bluffed, now he could only do his best.

After the match started, he used his significantly greater speed to continuously jab at his opponent's head.

In the first round, he threw 75 punches, hitting his opponent's head 11 times—three straight punches, six jabs, and two swing punches.

To his surprise, after taking so many hits, Morales still stood firmly in the ring at the end of the first round, like a steel tower.

In the second round, he and Morales abandoned defense for offense, attacking each other intensely. The cheers and shouts from the audience never stopped.

In the third round, he continued the fierce assault on Morales's head, landing 6 out of 45 punches, including two heavy punches in succession on Morales's forehead. Morales staggered, holding onto the ropes without falling.

In the fourth round, Link threw 42 punches, landing 5 on Morales's head. Finally, with the fifth, a straight punch brought the opponent down.

But Morales quickly stood up, clapping his head and roaring angrily at him, starting an intense counterattack.

Link wiped the sweat from his chest muscles with his gloves, sighed, and wondered, Can you really knock out this muscle man with padded gloves? He truly set a difficult task for himself.

Despite his helplessness, the audience enjoyed the spectacle, watching two muscular men on the stage, fighting fiercely, fists pounding flesh, sweat flying—what a thrill!

Every time they hit each other, the audience would shout loudly in sync, WOW! MY GOD!! The noise was earth-shattering, even louder than when the Heat won the championship at home.

"Link is burning too much energy in this match, he has another one this afternoon, how will he keep going?" West asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, West. Link is a great boxer. How could a great boxer possibly lose?"

Mario leaned back in his chair, chewing gum, and grinning as he watched the match on stage.

Although he trained at the same gym as Link, right now he very much wanted to see Link lose.

Once Link lost, he would have a chance to say directly that all Link's previous talk was just boasting, and afterward, Link couldn't glare at him with that annoying look anymore.

"I also think Link won't lose. He dares to fight like this; he must have some plan," Reggie said, his eyes full of admiration and excitement as he kept them on the ring.

Mario rolled his eyes and muttered, "Crazy fan."

"Link! Champion!!" James and his neighbors shouted loudly from the stands.

"Link, you must win!"

Link's fans also cheered him on and encouraged him.

"Is he really going to knock out all his opponents and take the championship trophy?"

In the audience, promoters like Franco Duvall and Greg Cohen watched Link aggressively attacking on the stage, their eyes filled with admiration but also skepticism.

If Link could really achieve this goal, it would mean that with his ability, he could not only win the championship trophy, but also obtain it in an extremely difficult manner, proving that his strength far surpassed others in his rank.

If so, the internal evaluation of him by the promotion company would be elevated to another level, and the terms offered to him would be even more generous.

But first, he had to complete a challenge that no one had yet accomplished.

Bang!

On the boxing ring, in the fifth round, Link once again used a Right Swing Punch to knock down his opponent, Mario Morales.

"Damn it, you've angered me."

Mario Morales jumped up, his eyes bloodshot, and he swung his fists fiercely like a mad bison from America.

Morales's punches were heavy, heavier than heavyweight Mario, at least over 900 pounds; Link had taken a few punches before, and even though protected by gear, it was still very unpleasant to be hit.

Seeing Morales lose his rationality, Link decided not to meet force with force. He utilized his exceptionally quick reflexes to duck, tilt his head, and lean back, narrowly and cleverly dodging Morales's assaults one after another.

"Wow, Wonderful!"

"It's incredible, he dodged them all."

"Is he Flash?"

The audience widened their eyes, watching him use flash techniques like Flash to avoid Morales's punches repeatedly, and they couldn't help but exclaim loudly, cheering for his spectacular performance.

"That was amazing, great fighting."

"Link, you are the best boxer."

"To hell with the little Roy Jones, I'm a die-hard fan of Link from now on."

Link's fans were so excited they were shouting and jumping around, with a few female fans getting so excited that they even took off their T-shirts and stood on their seats waving them vigorously.

"I'm going to kill you, Link!"

Morales roared, but it was useless; he was a power-type boxer, not a speed-type. In Link's eyes, his punches, though powerful, were sluggish, far slower compared to the fish at the bottom of the sea, and were not hard to dodge.

Link again ducked to avoid Morales's heavy punch and countered with a well-known Rear Hook Punch, landing a blow on Morales's nasal bone.

Morales cried out in pain and fell backward onto the ground, blood spurting from his nose.

Boom!

The audience shouted excitedly again.

"Link!!!"

"You are the champion!"

Morales lay on the ground for over three seconds, then staggered to his feet and roared as he charged at Link, as if to kill him.

Bang!

Link landed another Sneak Punch, smashing hard on Morales's nasal bone.

Morales was knocked down again, his nose bleeding profusely, the blood flowing from his nose to his chest, looking very gruesome.

The referee approached to ask if he wanted to continue the fight, Morales angrily said he did, but his coach threw in the white towel, requesting to stop the match. He saw clearly from outside the ring that Morales was no match for Link.

Whether it was speed, technique, mindset, or his famed heavy punches, none could compare to Link.

Completely outclassed by Link, continuing the fight was pointless. It was better to end the match sooner and conserve energy for the ranking matches.

"The winner of this match is... Link Baker!"

Link's fist was raised by the referee once again.

"Link! Link! Champion!"

Thousands of Miami spectators in the stands started shouting loudly, clapping and cheering, creating a spectacular and enthusiastic scene.

Link held up his red boxing gloves and waved vigorously, and although it was a TKO (technical knockout), it also counted as a KO.

"He did it! He did it!"

Franco Duvall looked at Link on the ring, excitedly patting the railing.

A couple of days ago, he and Link had a long talk on the train, where Link said he wanted to unify the Golden Belts of four organizations across five ranks, aiming to change the current boxing scene and create a huge shift in North American boxing.

Ordinary people hearing this might consider him insane.

But if this person demonstrated immense strength, then one could not treat him lightly.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Today, Link said he would win the match by knocking out his opponent, and now he had done it.

He was not just a highly ambitious person but also one capable of achieving those ambitions, a rarity indeed.

Franco Duvall glanced at his competitors nearby, took out his phone, and called a person he did not want to disturb—his father, Mr. Lou Duvall.

Mr. Duvall was the founder and actual controller of the main event company.

Concerned with a 100 million US dollar deal and the company's future development, he could not help but disturb Mr. Duvall and seek his approval.