Chapter 96: Boxing Memories
Author: Geraint
A day later, Ichika brought them to his new business—a boxing gym. The building had a simple design, but inside, it was amazing. All the equipment looked advanced, and several athletes were already applying to join.
"Welcome to my new business venture—my very own boxing gym!"
Mirko looked excited, seeing strong, muscular people training inside.
"Amazing! I see a lot of strong people here! Can I fight any of them?"
Her eyes twinkled.
"Yeah, strong people from all around the world come here to train. We can request a spar if they're willing."
"Alright! I can't wait! Let's go, Ichika!"
Mirko grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside.
The others watched with squinted eyes.
"Why do I feel like Ichika built this place just for Mirko?" La Brava said.
"Same here," Mt. Lady added, and everyone nodded in agreement.
Inside, the gym manager quickly greeted Ichika and shook his hand.
"Thank you for visiting us today, Boss! As you can see, business is booming—we're getting a lot of clients."
"I see. It's only been a week, so we need to be ready for any problems. Please continue working hard and give our athletes the best training possible. Their success is ours."
"Yes, Boss! Our gym has the best sports equipment in the world, invented by the CEO of Yamagi Industries himself—the top support item inventor!"
"Alright, can you show us around?"
"Of course. Follow me."
The manager guided them around, explaining the advanced equipment.
Before long, the place became crowded, annoying some clients.
"Hm?"
Ichika noticed several people carrying large cameras, all pointed at a tall man in a black suit with a red necktie. He was a foreigner with blond hair, sunglasses, and an arrogant demeanor. A large gold chain hung from his neck.
While the manager was explaining,
"This gym might focus on boxing, but we also train athletes from other sports who want to improve their boxing skills, like those in MMA. We also—"
"Hey! Where's the manager? Tell him I'm here to train!" the arrogant man shouted in English.
"Yes, sir?" the manager replied in English, approaching him.
"I have a big fight in two weeks, and I want to spar with someone here! My sparring partners are too weak!"
"I'm sorry, sir. The gym just opened, and we don't yet have athletes trained enough to spar with you."
"Huh? I thought this was a world-class gym! What a sham!"
As the manager continued apologizing, Ichika stepped forward and tapped his shoulder.
"That's enough."
"Huh? Boss?"
Ichika walked up to the arrogant man with a smile.
"If you're looking for someone to spar with, you're in the right place! Welcome to Yamagi Boxing Gym! We offer top-tier training!"
"A brat? Are you the owner of this place?"
"Yeah. And since no one's available to spar with you, I'll gladly step in."
The manager was shocked, as were those who understood the exchange.
"What?!"
The arrogant man paused.
"Pfffffft! Bwahahahaha!"
He removed his sunglasses.
"You don't recognize me?"
"I don't."
"I'm George 'The Destroyer' Armstrong! The Undisputed Featherweight Champion of the World!"
"That's cool," Ichika said plainly.
"You brat!"
Armstrong scowled.
"I didn't plan to waste my time, but I guess it'll be fun teaching you the difference between amateur and pro. Fine—let's do an exhibition match. I'll play with you a bit."
"Thank you very much," Ichika said with a service smile, bowing.
Ichika changed into black shorts and white shoes. While sitting, he tightly wrapped his hands with bandages—his technique fluid, as if he'd done it for years.
"Ichika! This isn't fair! I want to fight him too!" Mirko pouted.
"Sorry, Rumi. It's boxing—no kicking."
The manager helped him put on his gloves, worried.
"Boss, this is crazy!"
"It's fine. We have to give our customers the best service," Ichika said with a smile.
"Do you even know how to box?"
"Of course. Just punch him until he can't stand, right?"
The manager grew more concerned. The board of directors had warned him Ichika was reckless—he hadn't realized how reckless.
Ichika stretched, then ran and jumped into the ring.
Armstrong entered in a sleeveless black shirt, black jogging pants, and white boxing shoes.
"Hey, kid! You should wear headgear. It's required for amateurs."
"It's fine. I don't need one."
"Don't blame me later."
Armstrong was clearly not taking it seriously. Ichika knew—and planned to wake him up.
"Ugh! This is embarrassing! Why do I have to do this?!"
Lady Nagant, dressed in a bunny girl outfit, walked into the ring with a placard:
[Round 1]
Ichika gave a thumbs up to the manager, who nervously returned it.
Ring!
The bell rang. Both fighters put in their mouthguards and approached the center of the ring.
The difference in height and muscle mass was obvious.
They touched gloves and took their stances.
"Huh?"
Armstrong felt something strange. He was the champion, yet this amateur wasn't intimidated. Instead, he was the one feeling pressure. He'd destroyed countless boxers in his weight class—but now, a smaller kid was staring him down like an equal.
"Tch."
"What's wrong, kid? Scared?"
They stared each other down, waiting for the first move.
"Come on! Punch me!"
Ichika was reading his opponent.
When Armstrong opened his guard slightly, Ichika launched a high-speed left jab.
Thud!
It hit his jaw. Armstrong's head snapped back—and he fell on his butt.
Ichika calmly walked to the neutral corner.
"What the hell was that?!" Armstrong yelled in shock.
Everyone was speechless. A kid took down a champion in seconds.
No one counted—it was just a spar.
"Ugh! What happened?!" Armstrong stood up.
The media, broadcasting the fight live, was stunned.
For Ichika, everything felt nostalgic. Memories of his past life flooded back—when he first started boxing before switching to MMA. A young boy running into a rundown gym, meeting his coach for the first time.
Staring at his clenched fists, he once asked:
"How does it feel to be strong?"
(To be continued.)
(A/N: I'll fix my mistakes later.)