Isekai in Hajime no Ippo with Gaolang’s Template

Note: back to normal updates.

The crisp January air filled Alex's lungs as his sneakers struck the pavement in rhythm with his steady breath. It was January 18th, just one week before his bout with Shinobu Iga for the Japan Lightweight Title. Normally, Ippo would be by his side, matching his pace, but today Alex jogged alone.

The reason? Ippo's routine detour to the bakery where his crush worked. Alex smirked at the thought. "Ippo's more dedicated to buying bread than to keeping pace," he chuckled inwardly.

As the streets of Kamogawa passed by, Alex's thoughts wandered. The upcoming fight loomed in his mind, not with fear but with strategic focus.

Alex's Inner Thoughts

"A press conference in six days," Alex mused, wiping sweat from his brow. "Should I stir things up or keep it neutral? Honestly, I don't have any bad blood with Iga. He's just holding the belt—the belt I need to move forward."

His pace quickened slightly as he mulled over the challenges ahead. "But Marcus Rosario... now that's a name that's been bothering me."

The reigning WBC Lightweight Champion, Marcus Rosario, nicknamed "The Bad Boy of Puerto Rico," dominated Alex's thoughts.

"To be honest, I want to challenge him. Fly straight to Puerto Rico, piss him off, and get in his head. But..." Alex sighed aloud. "...flying to enemy territory with no protection might not be the brightest move."

The thought lingered, grounding Alex as he jogged onward. "There's still so much I want to accomplish in life. Getting reckless now could derail everything."

Lost in his musings, Alex found himself in front of the Kamogawa Boxing Gym. The familiar scent of sweat and leather greeted him as he stepped inside. It wasn't long before Takamura noticed him.

"Hey, Alex!" Takamura called out, throwing a towel over his shoulder. "Wanna spar? Light, of course—I don't need you crying before your big fight."

Alex smirked, grabbing his gloves. "Sure, let's see if you've still got it, old man."

Takamura's grin widened. "Old man? You're getting cocky."

The sparring session was quick but effective. Alex focused on footwork and counter-punching, testing the reflexes and speed he had honed over months of training. When they finished, Alex leaned on the ropes, catching his breath.

His eyes glanced up at the template display in his mind.

Gaolang Wongsawat's Progress: 50%.

Alex's lips curled into a faint smile. "Halfway there."

After the sparring session, Alex sat in the corner of the gym, towel draped over his shoulders. His gaze was distant, fixed on the floor as if searching for answers in the wood grain.

"Oi, what's with the blank stare?" Aoki's voice broke through Alex's reverie. The playful boxer plopped down beside him, a lopsided grin on his face.

Alex shook his head slightly. "Just thinking about the future, that's all."

"Future, huh?" Aoki scratched his head. "Man, you're too serious. Lighten up a bit. Oh, hey, you know Miyata's fighting on your undercard, right? He's going up against Mashiba."

That caught Alex's attention. "Really? I hadn't been paying attention to the undercard lineup."

Aoki laughed. "Figures. You're so laser-focused on Iga you probably forgot the rest of the world exists. But yeah, Mashiba versus Miyata—it's gonna be intense. You think Ippo knows?"

Both men glanced toward the ring, where Ippo was weaving around imaginary punches, working on his drills. His movements were sharp and precise, a testament to his relentless training.

"Knowing Ippo, he'd probably cheer for Miyata," Aoki said, smirking.

Alex leaned back, crossing his arms. "Maybe. Those two have some weird rivalry thing going on. Still, it'll be interesting to see how that fight plays out."

It was a quiet evening when Aoki approached Alex at the gym, grinning wide. "Hey, Alex, you've been looking stressed lately. How about I treat you to some ramen at my restaurant? My treat!"

Alex, finishing his post-sparring cooldown, gave Aoki a side glance. "You sure? I don't want you cutting into your profits just for me."

Aoki waved him off. "Don't be ridiculous. Business is good, and I owe you for helping me out with the restaurant paperwork. Come on, let's go."

After a quick cleanup at the gym, the two headed to Aoki's ramen shop. The cozy restaurant was alive with the sound of bubbling broth and the soft chatter of satisfied customers. Alex sat at the counter, the warmth of the place a stark contrast to the cold January night outside.

Ippo, on the other hand, had already driven home in his new Nissan GTR, excited to practice his driving skills with the car Alex had gifted him during Christmas.

As Aoki stood behind the counter, preparing two steaming bowls of his signature ramen, Alex broke the silence.

"Aoki, can I ask you something?"

Aoki glanced at him curiously while expertly slicing some toppings. "Sure, what's up?"

Alex rested his elbows on the counter, his tone serious. "I've got this problem about my next step after this title match in Japan."

Aoki raised an eyebrow as he began plating the toppings. "Man, you're already thinking ahead? I thought your problem was Iga."

Alex sighed, leaning back. "It's not like I'm underestimating Iga, but I believe I'm a level above him."

Aoki paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it... in your four pro fights, you've got four KOs. You never sweat, you never bled, and none of your opponents lasted beyond the second round—except Shohei Matsuda."

Alex smiled faintly. "Yeah, Matsuda was the exception. Speaking of him, do you know how he's doing?"

Aoki grinned as he placed the bowls in front of them. "I heard he opened a restaurant for his wife to manage. It's doing pretty well so far."

Alex's expression softened. "That's great to hear. I'm happy for him and his family. He deserves it."

The two began eating, enjoying the rich flavors of the ramen. After a few moments, Aoki broke the silence.

"So, what's on your mind for your next step?"

Alex set down his chopsticks and crossed his arms. "After I win this title, I don't plan on defending it. I want to challenge Marcus Rosario for the WBC belt. But getting his attention won't be easy. I was thinking of flying to Puerto Rico and playing some mind games."

Aoki's eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. "Man, that's bold. But I heard that guy carries a gun with him everywhere. Flying into enemy territory without protection might not be the brightest move."

Alex let out a wry laugh. "Exactly. That's the part that's giving me second thoughts."

Aoki leaned on the counter, his expression serious. "Why not go for Juan Nazario, the WBA champion? He's also from Puerto Rico, so you'd still make an impact over there. Plus, he seems less... 'trigger-happy.' Matter of fact, I'll even go with you. You know, keep things lively."

Alex raised an eyebrow, considering the idea. "That... actually makes a lot of sense. I'll talk to Yagi-san about contacting Nazario's team first. If they don't accept, we'll make a scene in the media—or just fly there and make them notice us."

Aoki grinned, raising his glass of water. "Now that's the spirit. Just don't forget to bring me along for the fireworks."

Alex smirked, finally feeling a sense of clarity. "Alright, it's settled. Time to take the first step toward the world stage."

They clinked their glasses in a silent toast, the warm steam from the ramen rising between them as Alex's determination solidified.

To be continued...