Xiao Yang left, leaving me with 10,000 US dollars when he left. I don't remember how many times Xiao Yang gave me money, and I can't remember how much money he gave me. If there is a conversion between banknotes and favors, I think what I owe Xiao Yang must be a great favor. What's more, Xiao Yang has helped me so much, and how to go about it may have become a question that I often need to think about in my next life. First, though, I need to get out of this place alive.

I moved out of the handyman's house and into the fighters' dormitories. I didn't get out of "hell", but I'm going to live here as a fighter for the next year. It's a south-facing house with floor-to-ceiling windows that seem to let in the sunshine into the bedroom, a bathroom with a shower, and satellite TV on the wall with a few Chinese channels. If I wasn't living with people, I would think it would be a perfect dormitory. Luckily, my roommate, American Mike, didn't seem to be difficult to get along with, and he just asked me not to disturb his rest at night. The first day I moved in, Mike opened a bottle of vodka to celebrate me. Not to mention, the taste of this vodka is really good, but the price in this place has reached 50 US dollars, which is really expensive.

I don't have any luggage, and the most precious thing I carry with me is the stack of photos that Xiao Yang handed me yesterday. When I moved, I gave the bedding and some scattered items to Lao Wa and Yao Sheng. Yao Sheng and Tian Zhigang were very happy with my things and said a lot of words of gratitude. Only Lao Wa began to complain to me that he shouldn't take my business, blaming me for hurting him. I originally thought that Lao Wa, who had experienced it with me, would be able to become friends with me, but I didn't expect that in Lao Wa's heart, I was a sinner who changed his life. The world is so big, maybe we are not the same kind of people in the first place. But I still promised Lao Wa to find a way to introduce him to the kitchen to help, after all, Lao Wa's hands in winter are really distressing.

The two consecutive boxing matches in the Little Black House have made me a bit famous among the fighters, and many people will even take the initiative to greet me, but they don't call me "big mountain", but "mad dog". At first, it sounded a little awkward, but it didn't take long for me to get used to it. Of course, not everyone likes to have a handyman-turned-boxer like me. Because of my skin color, race, or birth, many people are also hostile to me. If it weren't for the fact that I didn't know much about my strength, I think there would be a lot of people who would want to dispose of me in the little dark room. One thing is for sure, and that is that all of Japan here has a deep hatred for me. I'm not worried about that. This is a place where strength speaks, if not, let's go into the little black house.

Archie's training with me was a bit unpredictable. He didn't give me any guidance other than controlling my tobacco and alcohol intake, and watching me train alone. I was very scared of this way of training for several days, and I didn't make any progress, when will I be able to meet Archie's requirements, when will I be able to go out?

When I asked Archie where my skills needed to be improved, Archie shook his head and said that your skills are very mature, as long as your physical fitness can keep up, it is completely OK. Archie knew my mind very well, and he said, "As long as you can be the best fighter here, I'll agree with me to leave here." ”

Even if I am confident in my own strength, I can't help but have doubts, this place is really Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, who dares to claim the throne here?

"Have a little confidence in yourself," Archie smiled at the look on my face, "Maybe it won't be a year, after all, there are only a few people here who are stronger than you are now." ”

Archie's calmness is like telling a story that has nothing to do with us.

The speaker has no intention, but the listener has a heart. Becoming the strongest here became my only goal.

Maybe even if Archie doesn't say it, I'll make it my goal to be the best fighter here. But if this goal is tied to my sooner or later departure from this place, my motivation is like a plug-in in the game, and I become tireless. Without any supervision, I was always the first to come and the last to go. When I'm not working, I also observe the training methods of these fighters from all over the world, and learn from their good places for my own use.

Archie's role as a coach has become a daily reminder to urge me to rest early and remind me to relax.

In the face of such a chicken-ribbed coach, I can only be speechless.

I've started to think of every fighter here as my imaginary foe, and based on how they train and how they train against each other, I imagine what we'd be like in the ring. Imagine how I would face different styles, different habits, different genres.

This kind of imagination has helped me a lot and made me feel a lot more about myself. But this kind of promotion really has nothing to do with Archie, the coach.

Of all the fighters I've watched, it's "Priest," "Genius," and "Old K" that really make me feel the pressure.

"Pastor", "Genius", and "Old K" are also nicknames, just like everyone calls me Mad Dog.

The priest is a Frenchman, not at all like the romantic and beautiful French man in his impression. The priest was very rigid, at least I had never seen him laugh. The priest had a large cross tattooed on his back and a silver cross around his neck. The most impressive thing is that as soon as you walk up to the four corners, the priest will kneel in the corner of the ring and start praying, reciting a few prayers. Although it is a little weird, the strength is indeed recognized as strong in the circle of fighters. I saw Mike and the priest sparring each other, and within a minute, Mike was beaten and powerless. I could tell that the pastor hadn't done his best at this time. I'm confident I can beat Mike, but I won't win so easily.

The genius is an American like Mike. Archie told me that if a genius wasn't an addict, he probably wouldn't have taken a fancy to me. Genius is really a genius in martial arts, he has very little time to train every day, but he is extremely efficient. Archie said that the most important reason why the genius came here was to get rid of drug addiction, and he couldn't control himself at all outside. Archie whispered to me that the priest had been defeated by genius before he came to Hell.

As for Old K, I can't think of how to describe him. Because he looks so ordinary, he's really the kind of person who can't be found in the crowd. Average appearance, ordinary body shape, mediocre personality. If you cover the row of letters "K" tattooed on his arm, you will only think that he is an ordinary middle-aged Russian. But he was the one who spent four years in "hell" and entered the little dark room thirteen times. Archie told me that now I will die a miserable death when I meet Lao K.

I didn't doubt what Archie said. Those blue eyes couldn't see a trace of mood swings, and Old K was like a puppet or a robot, cutting off his emotions. He really struck me as unfathomable. In my memory, I have never seen such a fighter.

But Lao K is just a fighter, isn't he?

If it's not God, I'll defeat him!