boyutpedia Page 185
Page 185
The two groups did not clash directly in the hotel lobby, but an invisible, hostile atmosphere had already permeated the air, and even ordinary hotel guests could feel the suffocating tension.
That evening, Victor did not engage in any high-intensity training, but simply did some simple stretching and meditation.
He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of his hotel room, looking down at the ever-burning lights of New York.
Ivana called and gently told him that Donnie was also in New York and she couldn't come.
Chapter 155 Weighing: Riddick Bowe
Victor imagined Riddick Bowe, the power of his fists, and the thousands of eyes in the audience and the millions watching on television.
There was nothing but excitement.
On March 16, the banquet hall of the Trump Plaza Hotel was converted into a temporary weighing site.
The place was bustling with noise, and the heat was oppressive.
The media area was packed with cameras and microphones, and boxing celebrities and social figures filled the front row seats.
The air seemed to freeze, filled with the smell of gunpowder and an almost fanatical anticipation.
The host introduced both teams and key members in an exaggerated tone.
First up was Riddick Bowe and his team.
Wearing a gorgeous silk robe, Bao strode onto the stage, waving to his supporters with a confident, even arrogant, smile on his face.
His massive body was like a moving mountain, his muscles bulging, brimming with wild power. His gaze swept across the entire area, carrying an undisguised disdain, like a king surveying his territory.
It was Viktor's turn.
He wasn't wearing a bathrobe, just the team's black tracksuit, his steps steady and firm. His face was expressionless, his gaze level, fixed directly on Bao on the stage.
The audience supporting Viktor erupted in cheers, but he seemed oblivious, as if the whole world consisted only of that one single goal.
The atmosphere instantly became extremely tense.
The two stood on either side of the scale, their gazes meeting in the air, almost sparking.
The host kept rambling on and on, trying to liven things up, but nobody was really listening.
All the cameras were focused on the faces of the two giants, capturing their most subtle expressions.
Riddick Bowe was the first to remove his bathrobe, revealing a near-perfectly sculpted physique with clearly defined muscles exuding explosive power. He stepped onto the scale, the numbers jumped, and finally settled at 238 pounds.
He raised his arms, showing off his biceps, and the audience erupted in cheers and whistles.
Next up is Victor.
He calmly took off his sportswear, revealing an equally astonishing physique—massive and imposing, with smoother, more rounded lines, every muscle seemingly sculpted for speed and explosive power.
After the ceremonial part concluded, the next step, according to the procedure, was for both parties to face each other and allow the media to take photos.
This is where the real climax comes in.
The two took a step forward and stopped less than a foot away.
Nose to nose, chest to chest. Sweat, anger, and the scent of male hormones mingled violently.
Riddick Bowe struck first, lowering his head and roaring in a voice audible only to the two of them and the nearest microphone:
"You yellow-skinned monkey! You're finished! Tomorrow night, I'll tear you to pieces!"
Viktor didn't back down an inch. His eyes were as cold as knives, and his voice was equally deep but full of threat: "Anyone can talk big, you coward. Let's see who's the real deal on the stage. I'll make you regret every word you've said."
"Give it a try!"
Bao suddenly slammed his forehead against Victor's forehead!
Viktor retorted without backing down!
With a muffled "bang," though not at full power, it was full of insult and provocation!
"Hey! Stop!"
The referee and members of both teams immediately rushed forward to try to separate the two.
But it's too late.
The anger that had been building up for weeks finally erupted at this moment!
Bo shoved aside his agent, Locke Newman, who was trying to hold him back, and swung his massive arm at Victor!
As Victor parried, a swift right hook whizzed past Bowie's chin!
Although it didn't actually hit, the fierce wind from the punch made everyone gasp!
The situation is completely out of control!
Both teams, with more than a dozen people each, rushed onto the stage, pushing, shoving, shouting, and pulling at each other!
Staff and security guards rushed over frantically, trying to form a human wall to separate the two sides.
Reporters frantically pressed their shutters, the flashes almost turning the sky white, capturing the chaotic and explosive scene.
The audience members all stood up, screaming, cheering, and whistling, creating a frenzied atmosphere.
Old Jack and Frankie held onto Victor tightly around the waist, dragging him backward.
"Calm down! Victor! Calm down! This is a trap!"
Old Jack roared in his ear.
On the other side, Bao was also being held by several people, but he was still like an enraged bull, charging forward with all his might, pointing at Viktor and roaring: "You're dead! Viktor! Did you hear me? You're dead!"
Viktor stopped charging forward. He ceased his struggle, his chest heaving violently, but the flame in his eyes did not go out; instead, it burned even colder and more intensely.
He stared intently at Bao, as if trying to etch his image into his soul.
He didn't say anything more, but the silent, intense killing intent he exuded was more chilling than Bao's roar.
After several minutes of chaos, the situation was barely brought under control.
The two sides were separated to opposite ends of the stage, but the hostility in the air was so thick it was impossible to dissipate.
The weighing ceremony ended abruptly amidst this near-farce conflict.
But everyone knows that this conflict foreshadows the brutality of tomorrow's match far more than any words.
······
Back in the hotel suite, the atmosphere remained tense. Old Jack closed the door, looking at Viktor with a stern expression: "You were too impulsive just now, Viktor. You almost fell for their trick."
"I know."
Viktor loosened his tight collar, his voice regaining its usual calm, "But I need to confirm some things."
"Confirm what?"
"It's confirmed that his anger is real and that he can't control it."
Viktor walked to the window and looked down at the crowd and media still gathered below. "His power is real, but his emotions are unstable. When I retorted just now, I could clearly see the surprise and deeper anger in his eyes. He thought he could intimidate me, but he didn't."
Ethan handed him a bottle of water: "So?"
Viktor took a sip of water, his eyes sharp. "When the match starts, he'll be eager to succeed. He'll want to knock me down as quickly as possible to save face on the weigh-in. This will consume a lot of his energy and expose more weaknesses."
Old Jack nodded slowly, the grimness on his face easing slightly: "That's right. Anger is a weapon, but a double-edged sword. He can't use it well, but you can. You did the right thing, Victor, you provoked him, but you maintained your bottom line."
He paused, then emphasized, "But remember, tomorrow night, standing before you will still be a monster with destructive power. Any carelessness will lead to utter destruction."
"I have never forgotten."
Viktor's tone was calm, yet it contained an iron will.
He said no more.
He needs absolute silence.
He declined all interviews and events, and even for dinner he simply ate some food prepared by a nutritionist in his room.
Afterward, he took a long warm bath to relax his muscles, and then began to meditate.
His thoughts were no longer chaotic.
The conflict on the weighing platform, the profanities in the newspapers, Bao's arrogant face... all these images were transformed into a pure driving force for him.
They were no longer a distraction, but became fuel for his will.
He clearly reviewed the tactical plan:
Use footwork to control distance, disrupt and probe with jabs, dodge the right-hand punch, and seize the moment when the left hand instinctively lowers its grip to apply pressure and wear him down, looking for a finishing move after the second round...
He could almost see the course of the match rehearsed in his mind. Pain, fatigue, the shouts of the audience, the scorching spotlight... he was prepared to endure all of it.
Even as night deepens, New York's lights remain dazzling.
Viktor stood alone in the center of the room, slowly executing a few air strikes. His movements were fluid and precise, silent yet possessing a deadly rhythm.
His eyes were calm and still, like the eerie tranquility at the eye of a storm.
All the noise has faded away, and all the preparations are complete.
At this moment, he no longer thought about winning or losing, nor about the future or the past.
"I have to take them down one by one!"
Chapter 156 A Formidable Opponent
The banquet hall of the Plaza Hotel in New York was brightly lit, with crystal chandeliers illuminating the entire space as if it were daytime.
The night of the game, at the Plaza Hotel in New York.
All 15000 seats were filled, with celebrities, business tycoons, Hollywood stars, and sports figures all gathered together.
The air was filled with the smoke of expensive cigars and a sense of anticipation.
Viktor was making his final preparations in the locker room.
He closed his eyes and meditated—imagining the possible scenarios of the match and rehearsing his tactics.
But tonight, Riddick's face and words kept intruding into his thoughts.
Viktor took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of these distracting thoughts.