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57.23% boxing or actor? / Chapter 87: Chapter 87: Let's Compete Tonight

บท 87: Chapter 87: Let's Compete Tonight

"Richard, your mental fortitude is too weak." The next day, at the breakfast table, Dr. El complained.

"It is a bit weak. I couldn't stand it after only a few seconds. I need to practice more," Old Tang said while chewing on bread.

"Stop talking about it, it makes me nauseous just thinking about it. By the way, where's Alvin? I didn't see him this morning," Richard asked while eating.

"He met an acquaintance and they went on a date," Dr. El chuckled.

"He didn't come back last night?"

"Yes!"

"Alright!" Richard shook his head.

"Hello, are you Mr. Brad?" At this moment, a man with short hair walked over.

Richard glanced at him. It was tonight's opponent, Vasily Kirov, a Kazakhstani who temporarily resided in Phoenix, Arizona.

He was 24 years old, 186 cm tall, with a reach of 198 cm. He was an Olympic champion, Asian Championship champion, and World Championship bronze medalist. He had a professional record of 12 wins and 12 knockouts. He was a very formidable opponent.

"Hello, Mr. Kirov!" Richard reached out and shook his hand. The two separated after the handshake, neither of them trying to exert any force.

"Mr. Brad, I've watched your matches. You're a very skilled boxer. I'm very happy to be competing with you." Vasily Kirov had just moved to the United States and his English wasn't very standard yet.

"Thank you, I'm also very happy to spar with you, Vasily. Can you tell me how you plan to win the match tonight?" Richard chuckled.

Vasily was stunned for a moment, then grinned. "If possible, I still hope to win by knockout."

"Haha, good idea, I also like knockouts. Tonight, let's see whose fists are sharper," Richard said, clenching his fist and smiling.

"Okay!" Vasily smiled and bumped his fist against Richard's.

---

"How do you feel?" After Vasily left, Dr. El asked.

"He has a stable mentality and is very confident. He's a tough opponent," Richard said while eating bread.

"Are you confident?" Old Tang asked.

"Of course!"

"Tell me the truth. The casinos here have set up a special betting line for you two. The odds of you winning or losing are 1:5.8, and Vasily's odds are 1:1.7. If you're confident in winning the match, I'll take out my coffin money and bet on you," Old Tang said.

"Old Tang, don't say that, you're putting a lot of pressure on Richard," El criticized.

"It's okay, bet on me, and I guarantee your coffin money will double," Richard smiled faintly.

"Haha, alright, I'll bet on you," Old Tang laughed.

"What are you guys talking about?" Alvin arrived late.

"Alvin, are you back from your date?" Richard asked.

"Who went on a date? I just went to negotiate with the organizers. This time, more than 6,000 tickets have been sold, plus advertising, videotapes, etc. Your match bonus has exceeded 100,000 dollars," Alvin sat down and said.

"That's not a lot!" The last match between Lewis and Cannon had a prize of 12 million, the gap between the two was too obvious.

"100,000 dollars is already the treatment of a quasi-international boxing champion. Besides the bonus, there are also opportunities. It is said that top promoters like Al Haymon from Top Rank, Eddie Hearn from Matchroom, and even someone from Ari's PBC are coming.

These people are only a step below Don King, Duva, and Arum. The fact that they're coming to watch the match in person shows that they value you guys a lot, Richard, perform well!" Alvin said.

"Okay!" Richard shrugged.

After finishing his meal, he went to the hotel gym to do some simple training.

At noon, Anthony and Paul arrived with a group of cheerleaders, including Susan, Mike, Robert, some apprentices from the gym, and a group of neighbors from the street.

These people were not only here to cheer, they also had a more important task, which was to bet. Atlantic City had many casinos, larger betting lines, and more wins and losses.

As soon as they got off the bus, they rushed into the casinos, taking out hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of dollars to bet.

They all claimed to be Richard's supporters, betting on Richard to win, but in reality, no one knew who they were betting on.

"Haha, Richard, are you confident in winning?" Norman laughed loudly.

"Why are you here?" Richard asked in surprise. This guy didn't want to run and left the gym after making harsh remarks. He hadn't been seen for more than half a month.

"I'm here to bet. The betting lines in the Bronx are too small, I can't make much money. I heard the odds here are high, so I hitched a ride. So, are you confident in winning?" Norman asked.

"Yes!" These days, people asked this question every day, and he was too lazy to answer.

"Not confident enough~" Norman frowned. "I was originally going to bet 500,000 on you, but hearing your tone, I only dare to bet 100,000."

"Whatever you want!" Richard shook his head.

"Richard, Richard, look at our cheerleader outfits, how are they?" Susan walked over wearing a bright red dress.

Behind her were six stout women, also wearing bright red dresses, which reflected against their dark skin, making them look black and red.

Richard felt his eyes burning again. "Susan, they look great. The red is very bright, even if there are many people at the scene, I can see you at a glance."

"As long as you like it, Richard, go for it!" Susan hugged him and left with the cheerleaders. They also had to go and place their bets.

Richard smiled lightly and returned to his hotel room. Before the match, he preferred to sit alone in silence, like meditation in yoga, emptying himself and achieving liberation.

At five o'clock in the afternoon, there was a knock on the door. The match was about to begin.

Richard walked outside, and the hallway was filled with people: Alvin, Dr. El, Old Tang, Anthony, Paul with a crooked smile, Norman leaning against the wall, Jim looking around in the crowd, Mike giving a thumbs up, and Susan and the others with enthusiastic faces.

"Richard, go for it!" Everyone shouted together.

"Go for it!" Richard waved his fist and smiled.

"Let's go, stop being sentimental here," Paul muttered with a dark face. I didn't see everyone doing this when I had my matches. There's favoritism again.

"Alright, let's go!" Richard led the group downstairs. The people around him were old, young, fat, and thin. They didn't look like a regular army at all.

How could they fight like this?

Rumble~

Just as they were about to leave the hotel, a white Chevrolet sedan stopped by the roadside, and a hot woman stepped out of the car.

"Honey, am I late?"

"No, just in time!" Richard smiled and picked her up, spinning her around.

"Aren't you doing a show in Seattle? Why are you here again?"

"I canceled it. I was worried that someone would only be watching striptease and forget about the match, so I came to supervise," Bundchen said with a raised eyebrow.

"Please don't mention striptease, it makes me sick just thinking about it."

"Hahaha~"

"Hey, stop showing off your love, hurry up and get in the car!" Paul urged loudly from the minibus.

"Coming!" Richard took Bundchen's hand and got on the minibus.

The match was about to begin.

---

(End of Chapter)


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