Jason Luo's appearance underwent a complete transformation. His hairstyle, freshly styled by a professional designer, now looked sharp and stylish! Word was, he'd have to get it trimmed again before every match...
All his daily wear, boxing gear, and competition outfits were replaced—everything provided by BX Promotions, with all packaging costs fully covered.
The tattoo on his arm was finally completed. After several revisions, the final design featured a mighty dragon coiling around a traditional huabiao pillar, its head raised in a fierce roar toward the sky—majestic and awe-inspiring!
Besides that, Rod demanded Jason Luo spend at least thirty minutes each day practicing expressions in front of the mirror. The goal? Look cool, ruthless, and fierce!
Over the next few days, Jason Luo realized just how vital it was to have a strong promotion company backing him in the professional boxing world.
Many underfunded promoters couldn't even organize proper matches in the beginning. They could only arrange minor six-round events on the fringes of the circuit.
Those fights had no audience, poor venues, weak opponents, and sometimes even incompetent referees who made outrageous calls—it was a total mess...
Slightly better promoters could occasionally secure opportunities, but without enough resources for promotion, fighters had to climb entirely on their own effort.
Top-tier companies, on the other hand, had well-established systems. They could secure undercard slots in major events, allowing their fighters to enter the public eye early and build fame quickly...
BX Promotions was one of those powerhouses. Rod happily told Jason Luo that he'd secured a rare opportunity for him: thirteen days later, a WBO Interim Championship would take place in Puerto Rico, and BX had obtained an undercard slot—which Rod managed to assign to Jason.
With that slot secured, finding an opponent became much easier. It was a golden opportunity for exposure and a decent payday—an irresistible combination!
Sure enough, within two days, after discussions with Coach Brown, they settled on Koselan, ranked 643rd by the WBA, as Jason's opponent. When Koselan heard he'd get to fight on the undercard of a major event, he immediately accepted.
Both camps submitted their applications to the WBA, and approval came swiftly. Officials would arrive in four days to supervise the weigh-in...
Jason Luo was thrilled—his debut was finally happening. But when he received Koselan's file, he was stunned.
Koselan, age thirty-six, from Houston. Height: 185 cm. Reach: 188 cm. Last recorded weight: 78.6 kg.
Professional record: 22 wins, 7 losses, 2 draws—with 6 knockout victories.
A thirty-six-year-old veteran?
Jason quickly understood—this was a setup to help him pad his record. Still, that was fine. It was the perfect chance to build strength and gain experience.
Seeing Jason's relaxed expression, Coach Brown could tell what he was thinking.
"Jason, don't underestimate him just because he's older. These ring veterans can still be dangerous—some guys in their forties can hit harder than you'd expect."
"When fighting them, you'll have no advantage in experience or stamina management. That's why you need to go on the offensive, maintain pressure, and control the tempo. For the next few days, we'll train for high-paced offense and focus on improving your combination punches."
Brown dragged Jason to the heavy bag as he demonstrated. "Start with a powerful swing to the ribs, then follow with a quick uppercut. That's a move Tyson loved to use. But there's another—his feint hook. Right before the hook, he shifts position suddenly to throw off his opponent..."
"Now, pay attention to this combo. When you throw a hard left swing, even if your opponent's guard is up, his head will instinctively move to the right to absorb impact. If you then connect a right swing from that side, both forces collide—huge power! But the timing window is tiny, so you'll have to practice until it's second nature."
Training, training—boxing was like climbing an endless mountain. The higher you go, the more you feel its greatness.
Four days before weigh-in. Normally, he'd need to dehydrate for weight control, but stepping on the scale, Jason's weight was perfect. Just a bit of diet management would do.
...
During a training break, when Coach Brown was away and only his sparring partner remained, Jason leaned closer and whispered, "McGrady, let's play a game."
"A game? But we're supposed to be training," McGrady said. The 20-year-old fighter from Ivory Coast was honest and straightforward, doing well in the amateur scene.
Jason glanced around like a conspirator. "Don't worry. Here's the deal: you attack me with your fastest punches. If you land even one, you win. But when I say stop, you stop immediately. Deal?"
McGrady grinned. "Jason, you're underestimating me! Sure, you're stronger now, but I don't believe I can't land even one punch!"
"That's the spirit! You'll see. But remember, not a word of this to anyone, got it?"
McGrady laughed. "Alright, fine! Just don't regret it when you lose. You're way too confident!"
Jason was just as fired up. He'd been itching to test his Absolute Evasion and needed to understand it before the real fight—better to experiment now than embarrass himself later.
They got ready. Jason shouted, "Go!" and McGrady launched forward, unleashing a storm of punches. Jason activated Absolute Evasion.
What happened next left him stunned.
It felt just like the fight against Tutkason—his focus sharpened to the extreme, his vision expanded, but most importantly, he lost control of his body's core movements.
McGrady's punches came in a blur, full power.
Jason didn't block a single one. He dodged purely through instinct—swaying, dipping, weaving left and right. His footwork moved strangely on its own, even slipping into movements that looked almost like a wildcat's dance!
McGrady froze mid-flurry, eyes wide. "Jason, what... what kind of Footwork is that?"
"Don't ask! Keep attacking!" Jason snapped.
"Oh! Okay!"
Jason tried counterpunching next. His punching power wasn't affected, but the lack of bodily control made coordination awkward. Sometimes when he tried to throw a punch, his body moved back instead. When he meant to weave left, his feet slid sideways. His attacks looked almost ridiculous!
But his defense remained flawless—blocking McGrady's strikes felt effortless.
Before forty seconds had passed, Jason called for a stop. As the Absolute Evasion effect faded, control returned to his body. He felt drained, especially in his lower back—he'd pulled off evasive movements he'd never even imagined before.
Rubbing his waist, Jason saw McGrady staring at him, mouth agape. "Jason, that was insane! How did you do that? Teach me—I'll pay anything!"
Jason thought, Teach you? I don't even know how it works myself!
Out loud, he said coolly, "What's the big deal? Just practice—experience comes with time. A young fighter needs a few tricks up his sleeve, right?"
Still holding his waist, Jason turned and walked away, leaving McGrady staring at his retreating back in awe...