"ten!
"Nine!
"eight!
"seven!
"six!
"five!
"Four……
"three……
"...
"He's standing up!
"The challenger boxers are back on their feet again!"
The boxing gym was filled with excitement.
At this moment, standing on the ring, in addition to the referee in white shirts, there were also two boxers with their upper bodies exposed and covered in sweat...
One of the boxers was a bald man with a pot belly and a hooked nose.
He is the New Testament boxing champion, with thirty-two wins in thirty-two fights and twenty KOs against his opponent, the powerful Ralph McIntosh, who is known as the "New Testament Boxing Champion."
The other boxer was an unknown kid from the city.
On the wooden door of his lounge, "Fagal Terra" was written crookedly in chalk. And even this misspelled name is not known to many people.
The audience loves the "New Testament Boxing Champion", so they are disgusted with this down-to-earth kid who doesn't know the heights of the world.
At that time, Father Taylor had just returned from the European battlefield. He still had sparse black hair on his head, his sharp jaw was not covered by a disheveled gray beard, and a scar on his upper lip made him look a bit vicious.
After standing up again, his steps were still staggering.
Where am I?
What am I doing?
The roars and shouts of the audience rang out, turning into a high-pitched busy tone in Taylor's ears.
He felt like his brain was being shaken into pieces, and the memories and images hidden in the "pudding" emerged inexplicably.
It was freezing cold, and in the pitch-black trench, he saw amorphous monsters rolling over with a belching sound. Without any sleep, he raised his frozen hands, aimed and shot...
He returned home early due to an injury and took up his new job at an orphanage in Xiacheng District. The forty-odd children were unable to take a bath in the winter. They had to sleep in a large dormitory with closed windows to keep warm. The sour smell coming out of the darkness made them sad. His memory is particularly fresh.
Before deciding to participate in the boxing match, Snow, his comrade who returned home together, could not understand. They sat in the deserted aisle, smoking and looking at the stars. Taylor, who had always felt that his friend had something to say, finally waited until Snow spoke:
“Man, have you really thought this through?
“Boxing matches nowadays are no joke…
“You are not young anymore, and you still have old injuries on your legs.
"If you really want to improve things for little guys, I think there are a lot of other ways."
At this moment, the staggering Taylor tried hard to adjust his balance and try to keep his body from swaying - it seemed that this would keep the brain in his head from swaying.
He felt that everything around him had slowed down, as if his soul was out of body. While looking at himself stumbling in the boxing ring, he also watched the original conversation between himself and Snow.
(Yeah man, you're so conceited...)
He couldn't see through the state of Ralph McIntosh. He felt like he was fistfighting with a man made of stone.
(…Only let yourself face such a situation.)
McIntosh’s shoulders and trapezius muscles were connected like towering peaks.
(Just like you had to go to war in the first place...it's just something you can't defeat.)
Taro, who had been beaten to pieces by the "King of the New Testament"'s heavy punches, tried to concentrate on glaring at his opponent while looking at himself who was chatting with his friends about half a year ago.
He said with that overly optimistic calm:
"Snow, did you see Newsom today? That little boy with the bandage on his hand."
"I saw it. What's wrong?"
“You know, winter is coming—and winter is especially hard on the poor.
"The orphanage does not have enough funds to raise so many children, so we can only hire them to factories in the lower city in exchange for their daily food expenses...
“And this meager food fee can only be exchanged for bread mixed with sawdust.
"Snow, you didn't go see the factory where they work...it's not a place for people to stay at all.
“Newsom already has two broken fingers, and he’s only twelve years old.
"He told me that he felt dizzy while working and stepped on the machine and fell...
"Man—he's hungry like that."
Snow, who originally planned to persuade Taylor not to participate in the boxing match, fell silent.
"Winter is particularly harsh on the poor, my friend." Taylor shook his head, "There is not much I can do...
"My current idea is that at least this winter and throughout the next year, they will no longer have to go to the factory and eat bread like that."
(Oh, I see.)
Taylor, who was currently in the boxing ring, suddenly stood firm.
His brain was no longer sloshing around, and he could hear the roars of the surrounding audience clearly.
("Go home, you stinking downtown bug!")
I remember what I came for...
Looking at Taylor's distracted eyes before, McIntosh, who was waiting for the weird boy opposite him to fall down, suddenly realized that his opponent seemed to be a different person.
His breathing became deeper, and his distracted eyes returned to clarity, as if...
McIntosh felt that his imagination was a bit ridiculous, but he really felt like this——
Those turned out to be a pair of falcon eyes that were staring closely at the rabbit.
The boxing champion was irritated by such a look. He planned to continue to push his opponent into the corner and punch him in the cheek and jaw in the same way...
However, he did not succeed.
The nameless boy in front of him, who had clearly lost his physical strength before, now slipped out of his surrounding circle easily.
McIntosh was a little panicked - because his physical strength had reached its limit.
The Downtown Kid takes on the "New Testament Boxing Champion".
This weird and somewhat absurd boxing match is still going on...
Soon, he found that his fist could not hit the opponent.
Even if you get hit, you still have to take it hard.
The little-known boy in front of him seemed to have turned into an unbeatable person.
Finally, as if he had a premonition, McIntosh watched helplessly as the opponent dodged his obviously impatient punch.
He didn't waste this opportunity, got into his arms and delivered a beautiful right hook.
McIntosh couldn't even remember the countdown process afterwards. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the audience lifting the new boxing champion.
The lonely old boxing champion obviously did not expect that the kid from the city enjoying the moment of glory was actually thinking:
This winter, the children don't have to go to the factory and can have something decent to eat.
…
…
"ten!
"Nine!
"eight!
"seven!
"six!
"five!
"Four……
"three……
The puppet in the white shirt walked away, and Father Taylor, who was in Midnight Paradise, stood up reluctantly while holding on to the reins.
There was blood on his nose, but his eyes were surprisingly calm.
He was observing the "boxing champion" in front of him.
The corpse of a quester wearing a blood-stained mask and enslaved by Peter Pan.
He was taller than Ralph McIntosh, but his movements were much slower, and his fists were not as powerful as the "New Testament Boxing Champion" of that year.
After spitting out a mouthful of blood, the priest muttered something that no one present could hear clearly.
But those words couldn’t escape Sean’s ears:
"Amateur footwork."
"If it had been twenty years ago...
"I can knock you out in the first round."
With that said, Taylor stood still and rearranged his boxing stance.
Those eyes were the same as that of the young boxer who stood up again after being knocked down by Ralph McIntosh in the Forier boxing gym in New York City twenty years ago.
