As Jason Luo turned to leave, the shop owner called out, "Wait a moment, sir. Your bike is beyond repair. Don't you want to buy a new one? I have the latest models of sports bikes here—guaranteed to satisfy you. The prices are very reasonable too. The cheapest starts at just over 130 dollars, and you could own a titanium alloy bike..."
Jason Luo shook his head. Spending more than four hundred on a bike was far too extravagant. If it were eighty, maybe he could accept it.
Seeing Jason Luo about to leave again, the shop owner grew angry. A young man pushing such a wreck out of his store—it was the greatest insult!
"Oh, I get it. You must like old bikes for collecting? Ha! I'm too clever. No problem, there's no deal I, Wardman, can't close. Come on, young man, follow me..." With that, he grabbed Jason Luo and dragged him down into the basement.
"Here, take a look. This is a real treasure—a 2003 Santa Cruz professional road bike, built entirely from chrome-moly steel. Durable, long-lasting, and a true collector's item. What do you think?"
Jason Luo inspected it closely. Its condition was much better than Raul's, and more importantly, the tires didn't look too aged. He asked cautiously, "How much?"
"Ha, sir, today's your lucky day. Just 180 dollars and it's yours..."
Jason Luo turned on his heel to leave, but Wardman blocked him. "I bet you can't find many of these anywhere in the US. Why don't you name your price?"
Jason Luo gritted his teeth. "Fifty! Damn, it's too hot today..."
"Oh, come on! This is a classic Santa Cruz. Eighty!"
"Fifty-five!"
"Seventy!"
"Sixty, tops!"
"OK, deal!"
...
After a tense round of haggling, Jason Luo carried the bike out of the basement for the second time that day. But just as he was about to ride off on his "new bike," Wardman stopped him with a serious look. "Sir, please take your collection with you."
Jason Luo glanced at the broken wreck on the ground. "How am I supposed to carry both? Of course I'm not taking it."
"Oh no, sir. If you don't take it, I wouldn't sell you this one even for 180!"
Jason Luo felt a headache coming on. He knew that in the US, having a recycling company pick up large junk was very expensive. Looks like he'd have to haul it himself...
So, on the streets of Chicago, Jason Luo pedaled one bike while hauling the other, drenched in sweat all the way home. Passersby thought he was doing some kind of performance art and gave him thumbs up in admiration!
...
Life shifted a little. Morning physical training with Reches became easier, but afternoon sparring left Jason Luo under crushing pressure. Kamman's attacks left him constantly scrambling, and he endured the two-hour sessions purely on willpower.
The sparring drained an enormous amount of stamina, even more than his old labor jobs. And even with a protective helmet, he still came home every night with his face swollen and bruised. Just how heavy were Kamman's punches?
What shocked him even more was that his abs were starting to show. Though only two packs were visible, he hadn't done a single abdominal workout. How could that be?
Not only that, but his muscles overall were becoming sharper. Staring at the mirror, Jason Luo could hardly believe it. A youthful, athletic frame, defined muscle groups, hard, sculpted abs... Was that really him?
His old body had been solid, but far from attractive. How could he have changed so much in just a few days?
Then he remembered the minor talent he'd drawn earlier. That had to be it. Funny... but what good was a nice physique in boxing anyway? Well, at least it didn't seem to hurt.
Because of his two day jobs, Jason Luo had little time to practice Boxing Technique. He could only squeeze in extra training at night. But more than ten days had passed since his last improvement, and his stats hadn't improved at all.
Under this routine, time flew quickly. By the ninth day of training with Kamman, they were already more familiar with each other. Jason Luo's physique was changing fast, and even his second set of abs was starting to emerge.
During a break, Kamman teased him, "Jason, you're not planning to ditch boxing for bodybuilding, are you? Look at those muscles—they're sharp. Flash them in front of the girls and your chances will shoot up. So, what's your secret?"
Jason Luo's face flushed. "No, I don't have time to train for that. Maybe it's because I ride my bike so much."
"You can get abs from biking?" Kamman looked genuinely intrigued.
Just then, a group of people entered the gym. Leading them was a burly young white man in flashy style—thick gold chains, a big gold watch, sunglasses, chewing gum, strutting with McGregor's swagger. He even had a bit of Conor's vibe.
Beside him stood a middle-aged socialite, nearly fifty, dressed in luxury, her figure still striking. Behind her were two professional bodyguards—clearly upper-class company.
Kamman seemed to recognize the young man and muttered, "Hebrey? What's he doing here?"
The man named Hebrey walked up to the ring and greeted Kamman. "Hey, Kamman, that Asian kid with you—is he Jason? I want to challenge him!"
Jason Luo froze. Someone was challenging him? Strange. From the look of him, Hebrey clearly wasn't hurting for cash. Why would he want to take his job?
Kamman looked surprised too. "What? Hebrey, don't tell me you're interested in being my sparring partner?"
Hebrey pulled off his sunglasses, flashing his gold watch. "Haha, don't get me wrong. I'm not interested in sparring. But this kid stole my friend Jonathan's job. I've got to get that honor back. No problem, right?"
Kamman frowned. "That doesn't sound like much of a problem. But Hebrey, even if you're not that strong, you're still a veteran in the amateur scene. Beating up a rookie to pad your record isn't exactly honorable."
"You... Don't talk nonsense! I'm doing this for my friend's honor—it's got nothing to do with padding records!" Hebrey shouted. "This has nothing to do with you. Asian kid, do you dare to fight?"
Jason Luo was about to answer when—"Wait!" Kamman cut in. "That's not how it works, Hebrey. If you want to challenge him, go through the proper channels. Have your agent handle it. What is this, a street fight?"
"Here's the deal—Jason's still new. Let him discuss it with his agent and then give you an answer."
"Hmph, fine. Since he's a rookie, I'll give him two days. I hope he's got the guts." With that, Hebrey turned and left.
The socialite behind him followed, but not before casting Jason Luo a lingering, playful glance that sent a chill down his spine...
...
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