allendalepharm Page 27
Page 27
"The plans have changed, darling. If I don't accept it, the Siberian bear will kill me!"
Svetlana said coldly, took a small tape recorder out of her jeans pocket, and pressed play.
Veronica's voice can be clearly heard in the recording: "...Last week at the motel, Victor was so much better than Kevin...He was so good I could see my stomach heaving!"
Victor clenched his fist and then relaxed it.
He stared at the tape recorder, and then, to everyone's surprise, he laughed.
“You know, Svetlana,”
He walked to the telephone. "You have no right to negotiate!"
Svetlana froze: "What?"
Viktor had already dialed the number: "Hi, is this the immigration office? I have a Russian citizen here who is illegally residing, yes, with an expired visa... Address?"
He looked at Veronica, whose eyes flickered with a complex mix of anger and relief.
Veronica took the phone, clearly stated her address, and then added, "She also threatened to release illegal recordings, and I have evidence."
Svetlana's face turned deathly pale: "You can't do this! Dmitri will—"
“Tell your ‘Siberian Bear’,”
Victor interrupted her, his voice as cold as steel, "I'll be waiting for him in the ring. Openly and honestly."
Fifteen minutes later, as immigration officials put Svetlana into a police car, Veronica stood on the porch with her arms crossed.
After the police car drove away, she turned to Victor: "She'll tell Kevin."
No, she won't.
Victor said, "With illegal overstaying and threats, she'll be deported immediately. And..."
He pulled the cassette tape from his pocket and snapped it in front of her. "This is the only thing she can control. She won't waste it on something she's destined to lose!"
Veronica stared at him for a long time, then unexpectedly laughed: "You mean she came today just to stay out of it?"
Victor stroked Veronica's large breasts: "Of course not! Spend two nights in the police station, then go explain the situation, and she'll thank you!"
The night breeze brushed against his face, carrying away some of the sweet, cloying scent of alcohol and perfume.
Viktor took a deep breath and ultimately just touched it before leaving—the match was about to start, and his life essence couldn't be wasted!
Victor unscrewed the cap of the mineral water bottle and tilted his head back to take a big gulp.
The cool water slid down his throat, carrying a subtle mineral taste, which made him unable to resist taking another sip.
This was his third bottle of mineral water this morning, but he still felt incredibly thirsty.
He stared at the blue-labeled water bottle in his hand, his brows furrowing involuntarily. "I've never thought this water tasted so good before."
The clock in the training hall pointed to 10 a.m. Viktor put down his water bottle and headed to the locker room to change into his training clothes.
As he passed by the restaurant, a rich aroma made him stop in his tracks.
"Dear Martha, is there fried liver and onions for lunch today?"
He asked Martha, the chef who was preparing lunch.
Martha looked up and smiled. "Yes, Victor, you have a really good nose. Want to come in and try mine? But it's only ten o'clock now, we have two hours."
Viktor swallowed hard, feeling an indescribable craving—of course, for food.
This is the third time this week that he has been craving liver.
Last week, he even made a special trip to that small restaurant in the east of the city just for their signature foie gras.
"What's wrong with me?"
He walked toward the locker room muttering to himself, a thought flashing through his mind, "Could he be sick?"
Once the idea took hold, it wouldn't go away.
During training, Viktor found himself unable to concentrate; the coach's shouts seemed to come from a great distance.
After training, he took a shower and stood in front of the mirror to examine himself carefully.
His eighteen-year-old face had lost its boyishness; his three-layered chin remained unchanged, and his prominent Adam's apple was barely visible.
He raised his arm, merging into one, with explosive power lurking beneath the surface.
"It looks like there's nothing wrong..."
He murmured to himself, but still decided to go to the hospital for a check-up.
Chapter 23 Bloody Showdown!
That afternoon, Victor arrived at the private hospital.
When registering, the nurse asked him which department he wanted to see.
"Uh... Gastroenterology?"
He said uncertainly, "Or...the nutrition department?"
He was eventually assigned to see the general practitioner, Andrei.
Dr. Andrei was a middle-aged man in his fifties, wearing round-framed glasses, and looked kind and approachable.
"So, young man, what's wrong with you? You're willing to spend seventy dollars to see a doctor? Do you have fat in your brain?"
Dr. Andrei opened the medical record book.
Viktor explained somewhat awkwardly his unusual craving for mineral water and liver.
After listening, Dr. Andrei nodded and ordered a series of tests.
"Let's do a full check-up first to see if we're lacking any trace elements."
Blood tests, X-rays, ultrasounds... a series of examinations took Viktor most of the day at the hospital, costing him $1,100.
At four o'clock in the afternoon, he sat down again opposite Dr. Andrei, waiting for the results.
Dr. Andrei adjusted his glasses, looking somewhat surprised.
“Mr. Victor, your test results... are very interesting.”
Viktor's heart jumped.
"what is the problem?"
"First of all, you do have some anemia, which could explain why you crave iron-rich foods, such as liver."
Dr. Andrei pointed to the blood test report, "But what surprised me even more was that your bone age test showed that your bones are still developing."
Viktor's eyes widened, his cerebellum shrank slightly: "This is impossible, I'm already eighteen years old."
"It is indeed uncommon, but it is not without precedent."
Dr. Andre explained, "Especially for young people like you who engage in high-intensity sports, bone development may continue until around age twenty. Your case is a bit more special, with an unusually rapid increase in bone density."
Viktor felt a wave of dizziness: "What does this mean?"
"This means you need to supplement with more minerals, especially calcium, magnesium, and iron, and more meat, eggs, and dairy. Instead of relying on high-intensity training and a controlled diet to burn fat, which will only make you weaker and less suitable for high-intensity boxing."
Dr. Andre wrote a prescription: "I suggest you increase your intake of dairy products, dark green vegetables, and red meat. In addition, you can take some multivitamins as appropriate."
As I left the hospital, the sun was already setting.
Viktor held the prescription in his hand, lost in thought.
Still developing at eighteen?
This explains his three centimeters of height growth in the last six months, but what does the abnormal increase in bone density mean?
Damn it, you only realize how little you know when you need it!
That night, Victor tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
At two o'clock in the morning, he suddenly sat up in bed, and a thought flashed through his mind.
"Fuck your steel body!!!"
He repeated those four words in a low voice.
That was the last sentence the system left before it disappeared.
At the time, he thought it was just a metaphor, but now that he thinks about it...
"Could it be that the system really changed my body structure?"
He stared at his well-defined knuckles, imagining the changes happening to the bones inside. After pondering all night, Viktor knew clearly that if he wanted to live well, he needed to change his way of life, given his current situation—the gang's subtle control, the boxing gym as a backup, and his obvious weaknesses.
······
The day of the fight arrived quickly, and the Chicago Elite Boxing Gym was packed to capacity.
The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of cigars and the scent of fine perfumes, and excited shouts occasionally erupted from the audience.
There are forty games today, spread over two days—the first round of eighty games only took three days.
At 10:00 AM, it was the heavyweight boxing match between Victor Lee and Russia's "Siberian Bear" Drairovsky.
When Victor Lee walked into the arena wearing a red jersey embroidered with a golden dragon, the entire Chinese audience erupted in thunderous cheers.
He slowly removed his battle robe, revealing a muscular body covered in tattoos—a fierce tiger with piercing eyes and a white forehead, running from his back to his chest.
His 361-pound weight caused every step he took to leave a dull thud in the ring.
On the other side, Drairovsky was like a moving iceberg.
This 1.94-meter-tall Russian giant had bulging muscles all over his body, and his thick golden chest hair shimmered under the spotlight.
He pounded his chest fiercely, letting out a beast-like roar, which drew harsh whistles from members of the Russian mafia in the audience.
The ringing of the match bell pierced the noise of the underground boxing ring, like cutting open a bloody wound.
Viktor and Delaylovski charged out from their respective corners at the same time, crashing into each other like two raging bulls.
The iron cages surrounding the arena trembled slightly with their footsteps, as if they too were excited about the battle.
Viktor's narrow eyes gleamed coldly under the spotlight.
His 204-centimeter reach was like the Grim Reaper's scythe in the octagon, and his first jab precisely pierced through Drajlovski's defense.