Chapter 65: Chapter 60: Knight Fighting Art Acquired

Meanwhile, Li Wei, the one behind the whole affair that had dealt a major blow to Evan’s reputation, remained completely oblivious.

"Wang Haoran, didn’t you say before that Li Wei might not make it as a professional?"

Watching Li Wei’s retreating figure, the Indian girl nudged Wang Haoran’s shoulder again, twisting the knife in his heart without mercy.

"He’s got a 4-star player evaluation now. His future looks bright," she said, sighing wistfully. "Man, I really want to get to know him."

"What’s the big deal?" Wang Haoran’s face flushed red as he listened to her. "Don’t you know all these athletes use drugs?"

"Drugs?" The Indian girl paused for a moment. "Wang, don’t you think you’re being a little too malicious toward your own countryman?"

"Countryman?" Wang Haoran scoffed. "I don’t have countrymen who get famous by using drugs. In this country, it’s impossible for an Asian to make a name for himself in football with our physique, unless he’s a total ’juicer.’"

"The higher he climbs now, the harder he’ll fall when that physical report comes out," he said, his conviction growing with every word. "There’s no way he’ll pass his physical. I specifically looked up the NCAA rules, and they have very strict regulations for drug testing. Even if he gets in by some fluke, he won’t be able to perform. His grades definitely won’t keep up with the university coursework, either. We’ll just wait and see."

The Indian girl frowned and glanced at her classmate. For some reason, despite being Asian himself, he seemed to harbor an extraordinary hatred and hostility toward other Asians. This person, who was usually so gentle and humble, completely changed his tune the moment the topic of race came up.

’And he calls others a juicer,’ she thought to herself. ’As if I don’t know you’ve been secretly trying to buy Ritalin for your exams.’

She took a step to the side, no longer wanting to talk to this classmate who reeked of sour resentment and dark thoughts.

...

That evening, at the Iron Blood Boxing and Muay Thai Gym.

During his first real sparring match, Li Wei easily defeated a student with one year of experience. Afterward, that student filed a complaint against the coach, citing racial discrimination.

For the second match, the resentful coach, acting on a personal grudge, specifically brought in a semi-pro boxer with three years of fighting experience. In the end, he too was worn down by Li Wei’s stamina.

This time, it was the coach’s turn to step into the ring.

In the ring, the coach held a defensive stance, silently enduring Li Wei’s ferocious, all-out assault. Shirtless, Li Wei’s blows rained down on him like a hailstorm.

’Damn it, doesn’t he get tired? Doesn’t his body get fatigued from lactic acid buildup?’

The coach was crying out in his heart. He had once been a minor name in the professional circuit, but under Li Wei’s offensive, he was rendered powerless to fight back, forced into a passive defense.

BANG!!!

After five rounds.

"Alright, alright, alright," the coach quickly called for a stop. "That’s enough, that’s enough! Damn it, your stamina is monstrous."

"Maybe I’d be better off going pro in boxing?" Li Wei asked with a smile, breathing just a little heavily. "You know, like Mayweather? Would that be better than football?"

"It’d be tough on your own," the coach said, shaking his head. "Do you know Zhang Zhi Lei? He’s the strongest Asian fighter today and a strong contender for the championship belt. But no matter how skilled he is, the league just won’t arrange suitable opponents for him. As a result, he hasn’t gotten a title shot in years. They’re planning to just drag it out until he’s past his prime."

"Go play football, kid," he said after a pause. "I’m a New York Giants fan. I hope you can lead the Giants to another Super Bowl championship! They haven’t won one in over a decade."

Before Li Wei could even speak, a series of attribute windows popped up.

[Knight Fighting Art: 3/3 Completed]

[You have defeated a powerful opponent: Fighting Art Mentor]

[You have obtained the passive skill: Knight Fighting Art]

[System Reward: Constitution +0.3]

[Knight Fighting Art (Passive Skill): You are proficient in the techniques of unarmed combat and possess a high aptitude for unarmed sports.]

’Wait? What did it say? A single skill raises it by 0.3 points?!’

Li Wei was momentarily stunned. Before he could even process it, a scorching heat surged through his entire body.

[Constitution 2.5]——[Constitution 2.8]

The slight fatigue he had felt from five rounds of high-intensity, non-stop attacks was instantly burned away with a single, light breath.

He took off his boxing gloves and squeezed his wrist.

With the increase in his Constitution, it wasn’t just his internal organs and cardiopulmonary endurance that had improved. The ’solid’ feeling in his bones was even more pronounced, and he felt more substantial, more grounded. His feet on the floor felt as if they had taken root.

"Thanks, Coach," Li Wei said with a smile. "I probably won’t be coming here as often from now on."

’Now that I’ve learned the fighting art, I don’t plan on wasting any more time here.’

"I don’t have much more to teach you anyway," the coach said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Keep it up. I hope to see you become the number one NFL draft pick in four years and lead the Giants back to the playoffs."

"That’s still four years away," Li Wei said with a laugh. "It’s a long time from now."

Over the next few days, Li Wei returned to his regular routine.

With no need to go to the gym to grind stats or train at the stadium, he could once again free up time for his part-time job on the Upper East Side.

Don Quixote had been getting busier and busier lately. On Saturday, he and Susan had to fly to Delaware to register their company. He had even slept in Susan’s office one night recently.

When Li Wei jokingly asked if he’d taken the opportunity to get closer with Susan, Don Quixote flew into an embarrassed rage, declaring that he would no longer be deceived by women and was now completely uninterested in them.

「Two days passed in a flash.」

On Friday afternoon, before it got dark, Li Wei and Don Quixote arrived in the Bronx District, which bordered Queens.

Their time was limited; they needed to leave the Bronx before sunset.

In this area, basic order and balance could be maintained during the day. But whenever night fell, it was as if this place entered another world, and all sorts of dark, sinister people and creatures would crawl out from the cracks.

"We’re here. It’s that basement up ahead," Don Quixote said, his steps hurried. "Jose was always such a down-to-earth kid. He and his wife fled from Mexico, and they wanted so badly to stay in this country. I don’t know what’s happened to him recently..."

It was a room only a third of the size of Don Quixote’s old basement, with a single, dim yellow lightbulb dangling precariously.

Jose was curled up on a blackened mattress. He was so thin he was little more than a skeleton, his eye sockets sunken, and his skin had a deathly gray pallor.

Don Quixote had only been away from Jose for a month, but he had already become like this.

"Don Quixote..."

When Jose saw Don Quixote, his eyes lit up for a moment, but that light was quickly replaced by an intense mix of shame and guilt.