Super Fighting Tokyo.

Made with a hollow inner liner and leather stitching, it is suitable for boxers to strike quickly.

Whoosh~ Whoosh whoosh!

Old Ali unleashed several rapid punches, striking continuously and creating gusts of wind; it was a sight to behold even just watching.

"..."

Bai Mucheng's memories surged, and combining them with online reports, he slowly recalled:

"In the 90s, in London, before the third round of the match was over, you made all of 'hero' Brian London's punches miss."

"He was cornered, and it only took him less than two seconds."

"In those short two seconds, you delivered a total of 17 powerful punches, and not a single one missed."

"This is the pinnacle of punching speed."

"Based on the film frame count of the 8mm camera used at the time, your punching speed had already reached—"

"From the moment of throwing a punch to the moment the fist hits the target, there are only 0.11 seconds."

Shiramu Cheng tried to demonstrate.

"This punching speed has far surpassed that of Sugar Ray Robinson, the famous middleweight boxing champion who was once hailed as having the fastest punching speed in history."

"It has even surpassed the speed at which the brain issues commands to the muscles."

"In other words—such a punch is guaranteed to hit."

"..."

Old Ali, upon hearing his past, let out a long sigh of relief.

"The one who knocked me down in the ring—my son—has a faster punching speed than me."

He said slowly, "I'm very worried about him because he's about to enter a world that 'determines who is the strongest'."

"My love for my son is absolutely genuine."

"but--"

Old Ali then changed the subject, "As a fighter, I can't help but wonder, if the man I consider a thorn in my side suffers a setback in battle, will I have a chance to defeat him?"

"..."

Bai Mucheng listened, raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Isn't that too despicable?"

Old Ali grinned, "That's just how this game is! There will always be someone who wants to play it to the very end."

Bai Mucheng said in a deep voice, "...Really impressive."

Even now, even though he is over sixty and plagued by serious illness, Ali is still trying to become stronger.

He looked you up and down. "Judging from your muscles, it's obvious you've been training for a long time."

Old Ali grinned, his smile becoming increasingly unserious, completely unlike that of an elder. "I knew you'd figured it out!"

"Although the progress of the exercise is slow, it is still having some effect..."

"..."

Bai Mucheng let out a soft breath, "That was really exhilarating."

Old Ali asked curiously, "How so?"

Bai Mucheng pursed his lips and said, "Including you—Mohammed Ali, those fighters, and many people from all walks of life."

“Your existence and the things you strive to do are interesting to me, and they also bring me joy and a sense of fulfillment.”

Bai Mucheng looked at Lao Ali.

"You just recalled that Yujiro Hanma once told you that what is great is not your fighting skills, but your 'heart' that will not yield even when facing your country as an opponent."

"I like it too!"

"So there are people who can do this, so there are people who can do that..."

"These behaviors can reveal a person's willpower, that is, a person's 'heart'."

"Every time I see these, I feel unbearably itchy all over."

Bai Mucheng crossed his arms, took several deep breaths, and his expression became fanatical, showing an excitement and impulse beyond ordinary people.

"If there's such a thing as 'combat addiction,' then I think—I'd say I'm 'willpower poisoned,' right?"

"..."

Old Ali's training method is a very scientific and modern style, requiring a sparring partner; Shiraki Sei, on the other hand, enjoys a lively atmosphere.

The two chatted and finished their afternoon training plan.

As evening approached, the setting sun blazed red.

Old Ali rested for a while, then got up to say goodbye, told his bodyguards to leave, and returned to his luxury hotel in Tokyo where he was staying.

Shiraki Sei watched as this "great" boxing champion, and also his friend, left.

……

……

After leaving the house, Old Ali walked to the street corner, about to get into the car.

Suddenly, he noticed a burly man with a thick beard wearing a long trench coat walking across the road and heading towards the Fighting Spirit Martial Arts Hall.

When passing by Old Ali, it seemed as if they sensed Old Ali's fighting spirit.

The burly man with the thick beard turned his head, nodded to Old Ali, and greeted him.

"..."

Old Ali paused for a moment, then nodded in response.

He couldn't help but look back at the building on the street.

Fighting Spirit Martial Arts School —

It truly lives up to its name as a "fighting center." Unlike the amusement park that's all about fighting, it has a more "everyday" feel to it.

……

……

Judging by the time, it's time to make dinner.

Shiraki was about to go to the kitchen when, to his utter surprise, he was greeted by an unexpected guest.

——【Demon Gun】Kuroki Gensai.

Dressed in a trench coat and casual clothes, with his usual black beard, he exuded an extremely resolute aura.

No sooner had Old Ali left than this powerful figure, whom he had met once before, came to visit and entered the courtyard of the Fighting Soul Martial Arts Hall.

Shiraki Cheng was genuinely surprised, "Uncle Kuroki...?"

"Um, sorry to bother you."

Kuroki Gensai stood in the courtyard, showing no intention of entering.

Seeing this, Shiramu Cheng also put on his shoes and slowly walked into the courtyard, facing this extremely strong and powerful uncle.

"Hmm...you don't seem to be here to exercise. Is there something you need?"

"..."

Kuroki wasn't one to talk much, so he got straight to the point: "I learned about the 'Inner City Key Card' in your possession from my old friend Katahara Metsudo."

"Huh~?"

Bai Mucheng suddenly realized that he still had that metal card in his pocket.

Although, according to the analysis of Gu Haiping and others, this card would inevitably attract powerful individuals, Shiraki Cheng did not expect that even a grandmaster like Kuroki would be attracted.

"I'll just ask you directly—"

Kuroki said in a deep voice, "Shiroki, what do you want? Wealth? Power? Or battle?"

"..."

Upon hearing this, Bai Mucheng was somewhat puzzled and scratched his head, "Asking me like this all of a sudden feels really complicated."

Kuroki frowned slightly and said seriously:

"As you probably already know, that card involves the Kengan Society, criminal groups, and even the villains of the inner city."

"If you want to fight, that card is no longer pure for you."

Kuroki gently exhaled a breath of hot air.

"On the other hand, if you want wealth and power to make your martial arts school flourish, that's easy too; there are many people who can help you."

"As a fighter, which type are you? Hmm?"

"..."

Bai Mucheng listened with a strange expression, raising an eyebrow and asking, "Did Grandpa Katahara send you?"

"not quite."

Kuroki explained, "What he entrusted to me was to collect the 'unwanted' key cards from the fighters, which is also a kind of training for me."

"As for the question I want to ask you, it is a question that I, Kuroki, personally want to ask you."

"Shiraki Cheng, what kind of fighter do you want to be?"

"If your answer is perfunctory, it proves that you are not mature enough. Just hand the card to me; it's useless to you."

"..."

Bai Mucheng remained silent for a moment, his expression turning somewhat strange, which gradually evolved into displeasure, a dislike of being looked down upon.

"In short, you need to give me an answer, right?"

He looked at Kuroki, a smile gradually spreading across his face. "Perfect timing, old man! Let's have a go!"

The next moment—

Bai Mucheng pushed off the ground and charged forward, taking large strides toward Hei Mu.