Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

Before stepping onto the stage, Link had repeatedly asked himself if he could have beaten Lorenzo Aragon before the Golden Gloves. The answer was no.

Back then, even though he had a wealth of competition experience, his physical condition and boxing skills were far inferior to Aragon's.

According to his current rate of growth, the gap in physical condition between himself and Aragon was about two years.

Link also wondered if he could defeat Aragon in the finals of the Golden Gloves. The answer was still no.

Aragon was far more formidable than Andrea Berto, having won a world championship in boxing and a silver medal in the 69 kg category at the Olympics. He was an exceptionally outstanding boxer, much stronger than someone who had only resumed training two months ago.

Facing him in the Golden Gloves, defeat was inevitable.

But now, Link was filled with confidence about defeating Aragon, a confidence that wasn't delusional or metaphysical, but a true feeling.

This feeling had gradually built up during the current qualifiers.

In the first round of the qualifiers, he used his powerful punches and exquisite technique to defeat and knock out the fierce Mexican contender, Matias Ezekiel Vargas Martin.

In the second round of the qualifiers, leveraging his impregnable offensive rhythm and strong resilience, he defeated and knocked out the incredibly willful Canadian boxer, Dennis Urth.

In the third round of the qualifiers, using his sharp judgment and extensive competition experience, he quickly spotted his opponent Rosniel's injury, found his weakness, and forced him to concede early.

In the fourth round, facing Pitts who had a high resistance to striking and explosive defensive abilities, he smashed through his opponent's jaw with ruthless punches, creating a breach in his formidable defense, resulting in his forced surrender.

In these four rounds, he had won against opponents under seemingly unlikely odds, using his strengths and skills. These victories greatly boosted his mindset and self-confidence.

This process was growth.

Compared to the incessant training, the growth in strength and speed, the growth in mindset and belief was equally important for a boxer.

Because of continuous victories, his mindset strengthened, giving Link the courage to face Lorenzo Aragon in the ring, as well as the belief that he could defeat him.

Link looked at Aragon across from him and smiled lightly, "Aragon, feeling nervous?"

Aragon opened his distinctively black and white eyes, "The one who should be nervous is you. Don't forget this is Cuba, my home ground."

"No, no. I think at this moment you are more nervous than I am. After all, next you'll be facing someone who knocked out all his opponents, including Pitts who nearly tied with you. So, you must be very nervous."

"Humph! Ridiculous!"

Aragon disdainfully twitched his nose.

Link laughed, "Besides that, look around at the audience. Over ten thousand Cuban people came here with their flags to support you. They hope desperately that you will defeat that American and keep the Americas Zone championship title in Cuba. If you succeed, you will become a hero in the hearts of the Cuban people. If not, you know the consequences better than I do.

So this time, you absolutely cannot fail. You have to win. You can't disappoint those who support you. But your opponent is a very strong guy. You don't have a hundred percent confidence that you can beat him. You're scared of failing, scared of disappointing everyone.

You're very nervous, right?"

Link spoke slowly.

Aragon stared at him, his fists clenching unconsciously, his muscles tensing instinctively.

"See! I guessed right, didn't I? You are nervous. Your mindset is starting to falter, and your mind is becoming clouded. If I'm right about this, then you've already lost this fight. In a clash between masters, it's often not about the boxing itself but about the mindset.

Your mind is already in disarray, how can you hope to defeat me?"

"Shut up!"

Aragon said, gritting his teeth.

"Aragon, don't listen to him, don't let his words mislead you."

Sawon yelled from below the ring.

Link smiled gently, "Sorry Aragon, you might have a chance to win against me abroad. But here in Cuba, you're carrying too many people's hopes and burdens. You're bound to lose this match."

"You're wrong, I can definitely beat you. I must score at least 30 points against you."

Aragon said firmly, biting his mouthguard.

"Good luck!"

Link nodded.

Looking at Aragon, Link couldn't help but recall that once legendary sprinter from the East who could achieve astounding feats abroad but couldn't even start properly at home. It wasn't just because of a leg injury but also because of the enormous burden of expectations he carried at the start, too heavy a load to fly.

However, it didn't necessarily mean that Aragon was bound to lose this match and that he was guaranteed to win. This was merely a psychological tactic: to relentlessly crush the opponent's confidence and break down his fighting spirit.

Whether in the ring or on the battlefield, the effect of this tactic sometimes results in victories more glorious than those gained in a direct fight.

Link naturally didn't assume he'd win just because Aragon showed anger and tension. If he dared to think that way, he was bound to lose, considering Aragon was a seasoned veteran in major tournaments. Whether Aragon's tension was real or a feint to lure enemies was still a question.

Before the match started, it was reckless to make judgments based solely on the opponent's expressions.

All he could do was give his all, no matter the state of his opponent, striving cleanly and decisively to win the match.

'Go Link!'

Link clenched his fists tightly.

The boxing ring referee came over to check the competitors' equipment and declared the rules of the contest.

"Aragon will triumph!"

"Aragon champ!"

The audience's loud cheering was deafening.

"Go Link!"

Compared to the cheers for Aragon, this sound was more monotonous and scattered.

"Guys, put some more energy into it, how about making it a bit louder?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

On the second tier of stands, a chubby James yelled, waving a flag.

"No more, I've been shouting so long, my throat's about to catch fire, need to rest a bit."

Daniel sat down, grabbed a bottle of mineral water, and gulped it down.

"James, Link knows we are here supporting him, we don't need to shout that loudly. Besides, there are over ten thousand Cubans here, our hundred people can't outshout them."

Michael slumped in his chair, continuously fanning himself with a sun hat.

The rest were similar; after shouting at the Cuban spectators dozens of times, everyone was parched and hoarse without much energy left to shout anymore.

"Well, that's all we can do; the rest is up to Link," said James, frowning as he looked towards the ring.

"Don't worry, Link will definitely win," Franco Duvall said, smiling as he watched the boxing platform.

——

"Catherine, do you think Link can win?"

In the first row of seats, Selena Gomez snapped a few photos of Link and turned to look at her aunt, Catherine Baker, who was speaking with Anna.

"He should, he's unbeaten in his 21 amateur matches, never known defeat," Catherine replied, looking toward the ring.

"That's not certain. Look at this crowd, all Cubans, over ten thousand cheering for Aragon. Link will feel immense pressure hearing their chants; he'll surely lose. Oh, poor Link, I hope he won't cry after losing."

Selena Gomez glanced at the camera screen, at the tall, muscular boy, unbelievingly pondering how he had become so handsome in just a few years, his facial contours as if chiseled with an axe, even sporting a six-pack. Was this really the same unruly cousin she knew?

"Link definitely won't cry,"

Experience tales at empire

hearing someone speak, Selena turned her head to the left, where a young girl in the neighboring seat was speaking.

Dressed in a printed T-shirt, ripped jeans, wearing a white baseball cap with golden hair neatly tied in a ponytail, her skin was fair and tender, cheeks glowing with a healthy pink, wearing a furry wristband, exuding an artistic young woman's charm.

What irked Selena more was that the girl had long, shapely legs, standing around six feet tall, towering over her considerably. If she wanted to tap Selena on the forehead, she could do so effortlessly, and Selena generally didn't have a liking for women taller than herself.

"How do you know?"

"Link is a strong boy; not only will he not cry, but he will also defeat Aragon and become the champion of the Americas Zone, and even a world champion!" Taylor exclaimed, clenching her fist.

Selena blinked with realization; the girl was definitely a die-hard fan of her cousin.

After so many years, even Link had fans, which felt truly magical.