Luke didn't linger in Nashville. Once he'd accomplished his goal, he returned to New York to prepare for the upcoming duel.
The moment he got home, he opened his status panel.
[Name: Luke] [Age: 19] [Strength: 15] [Agility: 20] [Endurance: 15] [Available Attribute Points: 4] [Skills: Master-Level Swordsmanship, Master-Level Parkour, Master-Level Throwing Knives, Master-Level Martial Arts, Master-Level Dialogue Delivery, Advanced Acting Technique, Advanced Acting Insights]
His agility had already reached its potential limit and couldn't be enhanced further.
That left only strength and endurance as viable options for improvement.
And right now, the obvious choice was strength. Greater power meant a better chance of taking down Tyson quickly.
So Luke poured all his available points into strength.
[Strength: 15 → 17] [Available Attribute Points: 4 → 0]
His points were depleted, but his strength had successfully increased to 17 — now nearly on par with Tyson's 18.
If Tyson's right punch could still hit with 650 pounds of force, then Luke should be able to do nearly the same!
Sure, he hadn't undergone formal boxing power training, and his raw strength was still slightly lower. But he had master-level martial arts—his technique for generating power was far superior to Tyson's.
This would be Luke's first real test of his master-level martial arts, but he didn't plan to test it on anyone beforehand.
After all, there was no one comparable to Tyson to practice against. Ordinary people wouldn't even be a reference point.
So Luke decided to go straight into his first real fight—against Tyson himself.
He believed in the system's skills. They had never let him down before.
Three days flew by, and the day of Luke's duel with Tyson arrived.
The venue was set at the Conrad Hotel in downtown New York.
This place held some history for Luke—it was where he first met director Sommers, and where their partnership had famously fallen apart. Now, fate had brought him back here again.
Vin Diesel personally drove Luke to the hotel's grand conference hall, which had been converted into a makeshift arena.
As soon as Luke and his entourage opened the doors, a swarm of reporters who had been waiting rushed toward him.
Microphones and cameras immediately filled his view.
"Mr. Luke, are you confident about today's match?"
"Some say martial arts are just flashy moves with no real combat value. What's your response?"
"Do you think you're stronger than Bruce Lee?"
"As an action actor without much real fighting experience, are you nervous about this match?"
None of them cared whether Luke wanted to be interviewed—they just wanted a juicy quote. Some of them even had darker thoughts: This handsome face looks perfect now, but imagine the contrast once we get shots of him beaten and bruised after the fight. That'll sell.
"Please step aside," Mr. Eisen pushed through the crowd. "Luke needs some quiet before the match. You can interview him afterward."
"Come on, who knows if he'll even be able to talk after this?" "Yeah, maybe we'll be interviewing him from a hospital bed later!"
Vin Diesel silently spread his thick arms wide, blocking the reporters from following.
Luke followed Mr. Eisen to the team's waiting area, where he was surprised to find Director Cohen and Director Johnston already there.
"Hey, what are you two doing here?" Luke greeted, surprised. He hadn't told them to come.
"We can't help with the fight," Johnston said, "but we figured we could record the event. This'll be valuable material for the future—and we'll make sure it's filmed properly."
"If you lose," Cohen added, "we'll delete the footage. But if you win, it'll make great content for your documentary."
Luke nodded lightly. "Don't worry. I'm not going to lose."
His calm, confident tone immediately eased their nerves. Every time Luke spoke this way, something miraculous followed.
"The hotel has an emergency medical team ready," Mr. Eisen said, "but I don't really trust them. So I called an old friend—he's one of Mount Sinai Hospital's best trauma doctors."
Luke smiled in thanks. He didn't think he'd need medical help, but he appreciated Eisen's thoughtfulness.
Then he lifted his gaze toward the opposite side of the arena.
Tyson was already warming up, his dark muscles glistening under the lights. Nearby stood a Fox News reporter—the same one who had been stirring up drama from the start.
"Mr. Tyson, do you feel confident about winning today's match?" the reporter asked.
"Of course. It's inevitable," Tyson replied with an easy smirk. "Just like the sun rises in the east every morning. Out of respect for the guy's courage, I'll try to break fewer ribs. As for that pretty face of his—well, I'm afraid it won't be staying pretty for long. I just wonder if Miss Annie will still want to be his on-screen partner after that."
"How long do you think it'll take you to beat him?" the reporter pressed.
Tyson raised a single finger and gave a dark grin. "One round. If he lasts more than one, I'll crawl out of here upside down."
"You're very confident! I'm sure that confidence will translate into an incredible performance!" the reporter said, wrapping up his interview before turning toward Luke's side.
He wanted both sides' statements—it made for better TV.
"Mr. Luke isn't taking any interviews right now," Director Cohen said, stepping forward to block him.
"It's fine," Luke said from behind him. "Let him come."
The Fox News reporter blinked in surprise. He'd expected to be turned away—but Luke was actually agreeing to talk.
Delighted, he stepped closer. "Mr. Luke, are you confident about today's fight?"
Luke answered calmly, "If I didn't have confidence, there wouldn't be a fight today."
"And how long do you think it'll take to win?"
Luke raised a single finger—but didn't say a word.
"Oh my God," the reporter exclaimed, thrilled. "Mr. Luke's answer is exactly the same as Mr. Tyson's! He's confident he can finish it in one round as well! This is going to be one for the history books!"