Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

"I seem to have forgotten something, something important."

After a busy first day of the finals, the more tense day of the overall final arrived. At noon, when Link walked into the final venue, he looked at the American Airlines Arena and always felt that he had forgotten something. However, he had been too busy lately, and his mind was cluttered with too many things to remember what it was right away.

As he walked and thought about it for a while, unable to recall, he simply put it out of his mind and stopped trying to figure it out, focusing instead on the match before him.

"Link, there are a lot of news stories online right now saying that you're fixing fights. The first 16 matches were all fake, and when you get to the venue, reporters are definitely going to bring this up. You need to be prepared," West said, frowning with his gray hair, worriedly.

When they first met, West didn't look this old. The busy period had made the old man's white stubble and hair all pop out, making him seem at least ten years older.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"West, don't worry. Leave everything to me; I can handle it," Link said with an unconcerned smile.

Mario looked at him with a strange gaze from behind. How could this guy be so relaxed? Doesn't he realize how big the doubts online are?

Last night, he didn't sleep and spent the whole night browsing boxing forums to see what people thought about Link. He discovered that most people on the forums were questioning whether Link's fights were fixed, saying the 16 knockouts were fake, a tactic by the boxing promotion company. They wanted to create a boxing star, and Link was the chosen one.

Link might have some skills, but couldn't possibly be that good.

As a member of Link's team, Mario knew that Link's achievements weren't faked, but he found it oddly satisfying to see others criticizing Link.

"Hey, Link, you probably don't know how many people online are saying you're fixing fights, do you?" Mario squeezed past Reggie, walked behind Link, and was ready to put some pressure on Link to see his reaction. He grinned with an exaggerated tone, "A lot, a whole lot, you know?

Former middleweight WBC-WBA-IBF champion Bernard Hopkins, former WBA heavyweight champions Chris Byrd, Hasim Rahman, James Toney, Giant Valuev, and others.

"They've all publicly stated that even in their prime, they couldn't KO all opponents in amateur competitions. They said your punching power is beyond their imagination, heh, meaning they doubt you're fighting real matches, get it?

"Oh, and also Roy Jones Jr., Roy Jones said that if it's true, your achievements may even surpass those of Ali and Tyson, but the condition must be that it's real. Link, how do you feel about that?"

"Where did you see the news? Why haven't I seen it?" Reggie asked.

"Yahoo's boxing forum, there are a lot of posts like that, very, very interesting. I recommend you guys take a look," Mario said with a smile, fixating on Link's face.

"Shit! They're talking nonsense. Link's records are all real, there's no cheating. The Amateur Boxing Association has also come forward with an explanation, what right do they have not to believe?" Reggie asked, discontentedly.

Mario ignored him, still smiling slyly at Link: "Hey! Link, why aren't you talking, how are you feeling?"

Link looked at him and responded with a slight smile, "Mario, if one day you make it, and you want to know how great you are, don't ask others—think about who your opponents are. If your opponents are really strong and formidable, then it means you've truly succeeded.

"I'm just an amateur boxer, yet I'm being jointly attacked by several champions and famous figures in boxing. It seems I have truly made it, becoming someone even champions must treat with caution. This is an encouragement, and I'm very excited."

"Excited?"

Mario stared at Link in disbelief. To think someone else's insults were his encouragement? And he's actually excited? Was there something wrong with this guy's head?

"Well said!"

Reggie took out his phone and recorded Link's words in the notepad.

Mario rolled his eyes. Through last night's news, he figured it out; there was nothing wrong with him or the world. The problem lay with Reggie, West, and Link's fans—they were all poisoned by something called 'Link'.

Link entered the locker room, changed into his fight gear, and strode into the venue. As he walked out of the tunnel, a large group of reporters swarmed around him. Hundreds of them blocked the exit, pushing and shoving to get to the front row, passing microphones and throwing one tricky question after another at Link.

"Mr. Link Baker, I'm a reporter from American Express. Someone has reported you for fraud during the matches and suggested that the Amateur Boxing Association conduct a thorough investigation. What's your response?"

"Mr. Link Baker, some people believe there are problems with all of your first 16 fights and that your match results and eligibility should be revoked. What do you say to that?"

"Mr. Link Baker, former middleweight champion Bernard Hopkins said that if you were to fight him, he could KO you in one round. He thinks your strength is exaggerated by the media and isn't real. Would you be willing to fight him in the ring?"

The reporters thrust the microphones to his mouth as if they were feeding him ice cream.

Link stepped back, waved his hand, and pointed at the reporters who had asked the questions, "I don't like the way you ask questions, not at all. When interviewing me, please don't use unprofessional terms like 'someone', 'certain people', or 'netizens'. I'd like to hear a real name, someone who can take legal responsibility;

And you there, the gentleman from the Washington Daily News, you mentioned Bernard Hopkins—that's the former middleweight champion, right? If he still had the Golden Belt, I would be willing to fight him, but now he holds no title, and I don't see any need to fight him."

Hearing Link's words, the reporter quickly changed his questioning style. The American Express reporter loudly said, " Mr. Link Baker, many thought that you could defeat Andzeje Methodra in one round in yesterday's fight. Why did it go to the ninth round instead? Our newspaper received a call claiming there was an under-the-table deal between you two. Is that true?"

After the American Express reporter finished, the other reporters with their recorders outstretched their arms eagerly, waiting for him to speak, "Mr. Reporter, I feel helpless about your question because you haven't done your homework before this interview. You have no clear understanding of what amateur fights imply, nor do you understand the difference between amateur and professional fights.

Let me tell you, professional fights focus on the results, who holds the championship, and the Golden Belt.

The purpose of the Amateur Boxing Association's Golden Gloves tournament is to enhance the exchange and learning among young boxers, to improve together.

The reason I joined the Golden Gloves tournament was not only to win the championship but also to learn the techniques of my peers and gather fighting experience.

I am a powerhouse and often study boxing techniques; I think highly of my skills. Facing someone like Mr. Andzeje Methodra, one of the most skilled among my peers, was such a rare opportunity. How could I possibly waste it?

If I hadn't promised my fans beforehand to win by a KO, I would have even liked to go all ten rounds with him. Mr. Reporter, do you understand what I mean?"

The reporter nodded, "Mr. Baker, what you mean is that your match with Andzeje wasn't about the outcome but the process, learning from each other, but if you wanted to, you could have KO'd him in one round, right?"

Link looked at him, somewhat admiring the reporter's skill in setting traps—starting off agreeing with you, only to dig a pit you're meant to fall into later. If he nodded now, tomorrow's headlines could say, 'Link admits he could have resolved the match against Andzeje in one round.' To anyone unaware, wouldn't that be an outright admission of a rigged fight?

Link shook his head; he didn't plan to admit nor deny, leaving others to speculate, letting the topic linger. Controversy meant news, and that was exactly the outcome he wanted.