Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

Link arrived at the entrance of the O2 Arena and answered questions from a few reporters. Just as he was about to go inside, he saw his opponent Carl Franke’s convoy arrive. He turned his head to size up the other party, and also recalled his opponent’s profile.

32 years old, 185 cm tall, with a reach of 186 cm. He debuted in ’02 and currently has a record of 26 wins, 1 loss, with 24 victories coming by way of knockout. The only defeat was last year when he fought for the WBA European championship and lost to Mikkel Kessler.

Later, he avenged this loss in the WBC world championship fight and beat champions such as Jean Pascal and Jermain Taylor.

His nickname ’The Cobra’. Stay connected through

His jab is extremely fast and tricky.

His fighting style is fierce; the more he fights, the stronger he becomes, excelling in bloody, ferocious battles.

As Link looked over, Carl Franke also glanced at him a few times and nodded in his direction.

Link nodded back in acknowledgment, then led his support team into the pearl-shaped dome of the stadium.

The fight was to start at two in the afternoon.

Reporters Gary and detective Charlotte also entered the venue right on schedule. When they reached the back row of the spectator seats, the stadium was packed full.

Centered around the blue ring in the middle, from the VIP seats below the ring to the last few steps, there were people everywhere.

About 28,000 people.

This is the maximum capacity for a boxing event at the O2 Arena.

In the stands, many young people were holding Link’s posters: boxing posters, singer posters, and even Link’s fitness posters, which were not widely distributed and came with the luxury edition of the album.

When Link made his entrance, all his fans shouted loudly, cheering ’Go Link!’ and ’King of Boxing Link!’ Some were urging him to fight hard and win more Golden Belts to raffle off to them.

But this is London, Britain.

When Carl Franke made his entrance, the cheers were even louder, and the applause was more enthusiastic.

More than twenty thousand people were cheering for Carl Franke, hoping he would defeat Link and keep the WBA and WBC Super Middleweight Golden Belts in the country.

"Emma Watson is over there!"

Charlotte said, pointing to the front row seats while holding binoculars.

Gary lifted his camera and looked, Emma Watson was wearing a blue dress with her hair tied back in a golden ponytail.

Next to her sat Harry Potter, Gold-hair Wayne, and young master Malfoy, all of whom were concentrating on Link in the ring and whispering to each other.

"Keira Knightley is over there!"

Charlotte pointed to another spot.

"Never mind Keira for now; the rumors about her and Link are fabricated by us media folks, and Keira has a boyfriend now," Gary said.

To capture valuable material, they needed to eliminate a few distractions before acting, and Keira Knightley was one of them.

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders and lifted her binoculars again, focusing her gaze on the boxing ring.

Up on the ring, Link was wearing red boxing shorts with his name ’LINK’ embroidered in white silk threads on the waistband, and fitting red gloves, as he took part in an interview with the hosts from BBC Television and the European Television sports channel. ɽÁΝŏ₿Èȿ

His opponent, native British boxer Carl Franke, was in black shorts and black gloves, and his coach was speaking to him on the side, with him nodding occasionally.

From a height perspective, Link looked a bit taller, but his muscles were more evenly distributed, making his physique appear not as bulky as his opponent, Carl Franke.

"Bernard, who do you think will win?"

Charlotte asked, putting down her binoculars.

"It should be Link; the guy KO’d Mikkel Kessler in 101 seconds, Jermain Taylor in 98 seconds, and Jean Pascal in 42 seconds. Although Carl also beat them, he didn’t do it as effortlessly."

"If only Carl could win, I bet 100 pounds on him," Charlotte said.

"How high are the odds?"

"For Link to win, it’s 1 to 1.05. For Carl to win, it’s 1 to 51.5."

"That high?"

Gary exclaimed in surprise.

He had only heard about the time Tyson and James Douglas had a match with odds exceeding 1:50.

In that upset, Tyson lost, and many who had bet on Douglas made a fortune. It was rumored that Tyson had bet on him too.

"If Link bet one million on himself and then deliberately lost the match, he could make fifty million?"

Gary guessed.

"The betting companies aren’t that stupid; they investigate the identity of anyone placing large bets in detail. Moreover, given Link’s current status and value, he wouldn’t do something that damages his reputation,"

Charlotte said.

Ding ding!

The bell for the match sounded, and all the presenters and staffers on the ring stepped down, leaving only Link, Carl Franke, and the ring referee.

Charlotte immediately lifted her binoculars, focusing on the ring.

"Boxing!"

The referee gave the command, and the match began.

Link and Carl Franke touched gloves and then started moving their feet, constantly changing positions.

"Come on! Go Link!"

"Go Franke! Franke for the win!"

The live audience also started shouting loudly.

Amid the cheers of the crowd, Carl Franke was the first to launch an attack, his fists flying like shuttles, hammering down on Link without giving him a chance to strike back—heavier and fiercer with each punch.

Link raised his fists high, nimbly moving his feet, continuously dodging.

In under fifty seconds, Carl Franke had thrown 87 punches.

At the 52-second mark, Carl Franke used rope-a-dope strategy, cornering Link to the edge of the ring. Taking advantage of Link’s inability to reposition himself, he pierced through Link’s defenses with several consecutive punches, one of them landing on Link’s cheek.

Link stepped back from the blow.

"Wow!"

The audience let out a huge gasp with that punch.

It was said that Link had incredibly high boxing skills; he usually needed only a few dozen seconds or rounds to beat others on the ring and was rarely hit in the face.

But this time, he was struck on the cheek by Carl Franke and even staggered.

The British fans in the audience started shouting excitedly.

"Come on, Carl!"

"Carl will win!"

"Carl, you’re the best!"

The shouts from the crowd grew louder and more intense.

Amidst the cheers of tens of thousands of spectators, Carl Franke fought even harder, his fists moving faster than shuttles, often throwing four or five punches in a second.

Even the live commentary became excited.

Mr. Edward Campbell from the BBC stood in front of the camera, speaking in an extremely provocative voice that Carl Franke was now possessed by Pacquiao, displaying all of boxing’s speed and ferocity.

The commentators suggested that before the match, everyone believed Link would win, but now there seemed to be a twist in the fight.

The scale of victory was tipping in favor of Carl Franke.

’The undefeated champion’ Link Baker might taste defeat for the first time at the O2 Arena.

From a distance, Charlotte glanced at the live broadcaster and said in surprise to Gary, "Is Link going to lose?"

Gary, watching the match on the ring, was also unsure about the situation.

"Not sure, but the papers from the United States said that Link has been busy selling albums for the past few months, with no time for training. It was reported that his strength noticeably declined during his match with Andre Rael, so it’s possible he might lose."

"If Link loses, that would be great for me; I bet one hundred pounds on Carl, with odds of 51 to 1, which means five thousand pounds!"

The more Charlotte spoke, the more excited she became, yelling towards the ring.

"Go Carl!"

"Carl must win!"

At that moment, she joined the cries of over ten thousand British fans. When their voices fused together, they made the dome of the O2 Arena buzz with vibrations.

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