He Was a Professional Fighter

Chapter 1: The Offer

When I told him I’d fight, his uncle laughed on the phone. “I knew you’d say yes.”

“But I have one condition,” I said.

“What is it?”

“The gloves have to be standard—12 ounces.” I still remembered my last fight against “Mad Dog.” The gloves were thinner than training gloves, almost like fighting bare-handed. The lighter the gloves, the harder the punches.

Wang Haiqun paused. “I can’t promise that. But I’ll try. Get ready.”

“When’s the fight?”

“One week.” His uncle said, “Just think about that 10,000 yuan. That’ll keep you motivated.”

I went to a sports store near campus and bought kick pads and hand wraps. Then I turned to Wang Hui. “Be my training partner.”

Chapter 2: Training

“Me?” Wang Hui pointed at himself. “You think I can do it?”

“I think you can.”

He lifted his shirt and pointed at his ribs. “Bro, can you count how many ribs I have?”

I pulled his shirt down. “Skinny doesn’t mean weak. It’s the fat guys who have no strength. Don’t worry, I won’t make you train for free. You’ll get a third of the prize money.”

“10,000 is good. But if we lose, it’s only 2,000. A third of that is just a few hundred.” He smirked.

“A few hundred is better than nothing. Let’s eat first, then train.” I dragged him to a small restaurant near campus.

Wang Hui held the kick pads while I trained on the school field. Barefoot, my kicks hit the pads with loud smacks, drawing a crowd. I didn’t care. Let them watch—they didn’t know who I was anyway.

Chapter 3: The Night Before the Fight

Wang Hui trained with me for five days. I wasn’t tired, but he was exhausted—his arms could barely lift. On the last day, I rested and went with him to “Lida Nightclub.”

The fight was coming. I was excited—but also afraid.

Before the match, I saw my opponent, “Electric Stick.” He looked at me with pure arrogance, like I was nothing. That pissed me off, but I didn’t react. I knew he was trying to break me mentally first. Fear means defeat.

“Bet a lot on you. Don’t disappoint me,” his uncle said, tossing me a pair of gloves.

“You trust me too much. If I lose, don’t blame me.” I still didn’t realize this was an underground fight. Real underground fights? You can’t lose. The consequences are worse than disappointment.

I checked the gloves. “These aren’t 12 ounces! They’re 8!”

“Take it or leave it. I fought hard just to get these.” His uncle sounded annoyed.

Chapter 4: The Fight Begins

“Remember ‘Mad Dog’? Knocked out cold in one kick! Now, the winner—’Venom’—faces a new challenger: the boxing beast—Electric Stick!” The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers.

I stepped into the ring and raised my fists in a martial arts salute. Electric Stick leaned on the ropes, smirking. He didn’t return the respect.