My Pro Boxer System

Different combos popped up into my mind as I wailed away at the punching bag made of sand. The combination for the first bag was a jab, cross, a left hook, and then another cross. I executed them perfectly, dreading the punishment if I didn't.

When I finished with the first punching bag, I made my way to the second, still maintaining my stance. Though I was nervous, I didn't hold back; I hit the bag with the same power I had used on the first. My fist sank into the bag, impacting with a crisp clap. Relief washed over me when I realized it was sand.

Another combo popped into my mind. This time, I started with a cross, followed by a left hook, and then another cross. The bag sang with each impact of my fist. It was the only sound in the room. Alexa was sitting off to the side, watching with an unamused expression on her face. She was probably trying to keep a straight face so she didn't accidentally give away which bag was made of cement.

When I was done, I moved on to the next punching bag. The first move in this combination was a jab, so I readied myself and threw it. As my fist impacted the bag, a sharp pain stung at my fingertips, but I ignored the pain and continued with my combo.

It was the bag made of concrete. I had no choice but to hit it just like I hit the one made of sand. My fist stung and burned with every hit but I pushed it to the back of my mind and continued the combo's. The concrete made a dull sound every time I hit it.

I continued like this for hours. Soon, the skin on my fist was completely rubbed off, leaving me to punch with bare flesh. I gritted my teeth and ignored the pain, punching at full strength. My mind was slowly becoming accustomed to hitting the concrete bag. The pain was mind numbing but I slowly fell into a rhythm.

Every hit had to be perfect. Just the slightest mistake could mean breaking my wrist. If I got too sloppy, I could even dislocate my shoulder, and knowing Alexa, I would have to continue regardless.

It felt as if I was punching much harder than before as if my power did increased. It was then confirmed by several system notifications that popped up. Most of the punching bags were covered with blood, the shape of a fist.

My shoulders ached from the impact of each blow, but I felt they were getting stronger too. The combinations I was practicing also became second nature to me.

My training continued for hours nonstop. When I got home, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was 1 AM. I needed to get up at 4 am for my 12-mile run, but it didn't matter much since this body could perform optimally with only 2 hours of sleep. My fists ached, but I dragged myself to the bathroom, took a shower, and then went to bed.

When I woke up the next morning, all my injuries had healed. It didn't even leave behind a scar tissue on my fist and my sprained ankle from the crash crash yesterday had also healed as if it had never happened. Thalia's room was still locked, which told me she wasn't going to join me this morning, so I left the house by myself and went for my run.

After I finished my run, I went to do some basic exercises in the park. The system had assigned me 150 push-ups, 150 sit-ups, and a 10-minute plank, which felt more like an hour. My muscles burned, but it was something I was used to.

Just as I was finishing up the plank, a shadow loomed over me. I glanced up to see the sleepy face of a pink-haired girl dressed in black leggings and an oversized pink sweater.

"Can you hurry it up? How long are you going to take?" she yawned.

It was Yuki. What was she doing here?

"Did you follow me?" I asked, giving her a suspicious look.

She completely ignored me and went to take a seat on one of the benches.

"And by the way, I'll need you to pay me back for the cab fare I paid to get here." she said in a condescending tone.

"What? What are you talking about?"

She frowned and glared at me.

"You were running too fast, so I had to pay a cab to follow you."

"Why were you following me in the first place?"

"Because I don't want you to run away and cause trouble for me."

Maybe she would be punished by the gang if I ran away. If that was the case, it made sense that she would follow me. On that note, it was unreasonable for me to pay for her cab fare.

"I won't pay for your cab," I told her.

"Tsk! Whatever." She fanned me off and grumbled something under her breath.

She then took out her phone and began typing while I finished up with my plank. After I was done, I did some stretching and then sat on one of the benches while I inspected my stats. The status screen was invisible to other so I didn't have to worry about her seeing it.

"You don't really think you'll win tonight's match, do you?" she finally asked after stealing glances at me for a while.

"Why wouldn't I win?"

She suddenly turned her phone screen to face me. There was a picture on it.

"This is the guy you'll fight. His boxing name is Fat Bitch. Look at him; do you really think you can beat a guy like this?"

"Did you by any chance give him that name?"

She frowned.

The man in question looked like a giant behemoth. I couldn't tell his height from the picture, but I guessed I was slightly taller. He was obese, about 3-4 times my size. A guy like him looked like he would never get the chance to step into a professional boxing ring, but in an illegal match, he must have shined.

In a match that isn't properly regulated and has no weight class, I could see how he would have an advantage.

"You understand now; you can't win. Push-ups can't save you from this one. I once saw him punch a guy so hard he coughed up blood."

Fat Bitch, huh? With how big he was, he must have been an infighter—someone like Cassian. But does he even know proper boxing techniques, or does he solely rely on his power?

"Hey! Are you even listening to me?"

"Thank you for the advice," I said.

She looked puzzled that I had thanked her.

"W-whatever. I just wanted to let you know what you were up against. So make your peace with your family or whatever."

She really thought I would die. I guessed her time working for the gang had made her see a lot of unpleasant things.

"Alright, it's time I head back home," I said, prying myself off the park bench. "You're not going to continue following me, are you? Don't you have school?"

"I don't go to school, so I have all the time in the world."

Her response struck me as strange, but I didn't pry, as something told me she wouldn't answer if I did.

So instead, I decided to walk back home.