Chapter 113-the champion has a name and its Alex makunouchi

Pennsylvania Hall, Philadelphia, USA – 9 PM

Backstage, the atmosphere was tense yet focused. Inside the locker room, Alex was in his boxing trunks, his muscles loose and ready, as he went through his warm-up drills with Takamura.

Takamura threw slow jabs and straights, forcing Alex to dodge by weaving his head smoothly from side to side. Coach Kamogawa stood on the side, his arms crossed, observing Alex's movements carefully. Assistant Coach Yagi sat on the bench, watching silently.

Takamura smirked as he kept throwing light punches. "They really hate you that bad, huh?"

Alex didn't respond, only continuing to move his head and shoulders effortlessly.

Takamura continued, "At the weigh-in yesterday, no one even bothered to ask you a question."

Yagi nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Yeah, they didn't even do an interview for you. It's like you weren't even there."

Alex shrugged, his face calm. "I don't really care that much."

Before anyone could respond, there was a knock on the door.

Yagi stood up. "That must be the cameraman."

The door opened, and a bulky cameramanentered, followed by his crew. The large camera focused on Alex, zooming in as he sat down on the bench.

Coach Kamogawa grabbed the hand wraps, his experienced hands skillfully wrapping Alex's fists, ensuring they were secure. The camera zoomed in, capturing the tightening of the wraps.

After finishing, Coach Kamogawa grabbed Alex's gloves and began lacing them up firmly. Once the gloves were set, Yagi retrieved Alex's kimono and bamboo hat, carefully placing them over his fighter's shoulders and head.

The room fell silent for a moment.

Then, it was time.

The tunnel was dimly lit. Alex walked forward with his head down, his bamboo hat slightly covering his face. The sounds of footsteps echoed in the tight space.

Then, the distinctive sound of a koto played through the arena speakers.

As soon as the sound filled the air, the crowd erupted into loud boos. The moment they saw Alex stepping out onto the entrance stage, the hostility was clear.

But Alex didn't care.

His pace was steady, his eyes locked forward. Takamura, walking behind him, removed his kimono and bamboo hat, revealing his focused expression as he made his way to the ring.

The booing only grew louder.

Alex bounced on his feet lightly, keeping his body loose as he entered the ring, unfazed by the negativity.

Then, the lights dimmed again.

A hip-hop beat began to play over the speakers.

Tupac's "If My Homie Calls" blasted through the arena.

The crowd immediately switched from boos to cheers as Tracy Spann made his entrance.

Dressed in a baggy hip-hop-style outfit, sunglasses on, and his signature confidence, Spann walked down the tunnel. His coach, Khalil, followed closely behind, wearing a black tracksuit with "Tracy Spann" embroidered on the back in bold letters.

Spann moved with swagger, nodding his head to the beat, clearly feeding off the energy of the crowd.

The two fighters were now in the ring.

The arena lights brightened, and the microphone lowered from above.

Michael Buffer stepped into the center of the ring.

With his iconic voice, he delivered his signature phrase:

"Ladies and gentlemen… LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!"

The crowd erupted.

Buffer continued, his voice booming:

"Introducing first, fighting out of the blue corner! This fighter holds a perfect professional record of SEVEN wins, ALL by way of knockout! Fighting out of Tokyo, Japan… THE NUMBER FIVE LIGHTWEIGHT CONTENDER… ALEX 'THE GREAT' MAKUNOUCHI!"

Alex raised his right hand slightly, acknowledging the announcement, but the crowd responded with even louder boos.

He didn't flinch.

Buffer then turned toward Spann.

"And now, his opponent! Fighting out of the red corner! Holding a perfect record of TWENTY-FIVE wins, ZERO losses, with TWENTY-ONE KNOCKOUTS! Fighting out of Philadelphia, USA… TRACY 'SLAM BAM' SPANN!"

The Philadelphia crowd erupted, roaring in approval.

Inside the ESPN live broadcast, the camera switched to the commentary team.

A man with a deep, authoritative voice spoke first.

"We're back again for another highly anticipated boxing match! I'm John, and joining me tonight is my co-host, Calvin."

The camera then shifted to Calvin, a stocky, white man with a broad smile.

"This is a banger fight, John! Two undefeated knockout artists going head-to-head… Let's see what happens!"

The tension in the arena was electric.

Both fighters stood in their corners, eyes locked on each other, as the referee called them to the center of the ring.

Alex's POV

The referee stood between us, his eyes moving from me to Tracy Spann.

"Touch gloves if you wish," he said.

I locked eyes with Tracy. His gaze was filled with pure killing intent. He didn't even flinch, didn't even consider touching gloves.

I exhaled. Whatever. This will be fast and easy anyway.

I didn't bother raising my hand either. Instead, I turned and walked back to my corner. Takamura grinned, slapping my shoulder.

"Make it flashy, alex."

I rolled my shoulders, feeling light, feeling confident.

The bell rang.

I took the center of the ring immediately—just like I always do.

Tracy matched my movement, stepping forward with his high guard, his stance steady. He was a southpaw, leading with his right foot.

I shifted into my Hitman style, left arm hanging low, my head tilted slightly forward, right glove guarding my chin.

I flicked out a quick jab—a test shot.

Smack. It landed on his guard.

Tracy didn't react. He just absorbed it.

Then, he threw a sudden counter—a right hook!

I leaned back effortlessly, dodging it.

This pattern repeated for a while. I attacked, Tracy countered, but I dodged everything. I was in complete control.

Everything felt so smooth, so easy. The ring felt like home, and I knew—I could knock him out now.

Then, I saw it.

Tracy leaned forward.

This is my chance.

I threw a flicker jab, forcing his guard up, then immediately launched a right cross aimed at his temple!

But just as my punch was about to land—

Tracy's eyes sharpened.

He moved his head outside my cross—and then, he countered.

His own right cross came like a bullet.

Shit—!

I twisted my head just in time, taking the hit at an angle, deflecting most of the force.

But Tracy had anticipated that.

Before I could move, his left hook exploded into my face!

CRACK!

Pain shot through my eye.

Blood splattered onto the canvas.

I immediately pivoted to escape, but—

I hit the ropes.

Damn it!

Tracy pounced.

"Tch!" I threw both hands up to block, but Tracy was relentless.

BAM! A right hook smashed into my gloves.

BAM! A left uppercut followed, shaking my arms.

Jab! Cross! Another hook!

I kept my guard tight, absorbing the damage. But I could barely see.

Blood dripped down my face, blinding my right eye.

 ESPN Commentary Booth John's voice was filled with excitement.

"This is it! Tracy Spann has Alex Makunouchi on the ropes!"

His co-host, Calvin, was even more animated.

"Finish him! Go to the body! Left hook to the ribs!"** Calvin was literally panting, throwing shadow punches in his seat.**

Tokyo, Japan (11 AM, Live)Across the world, in Japan, millions were watching.

Inside the studio of Nippon Hōsō Kyōkai (NHK)—Japan's national broadcasting network—the fight was being aired live to the entire country.

The host, Tetsuya Chikushi, clenched his fists, leaning forward.

"Hang in there, Alex!" he shouted, mimicking a boxing stance.

His co-host, Keiko Ijūin, covered her face with her hands, only peeking through her fingers.

"I can't watch!" she whimpered, her voice trembling.

Coach Kamogawa was on his feet, veins popping from his forehead.

"COVER UP, ALEX! WEAVE! DON'T JUST BLOCK!"

Takamura slammed his fist against the corner post.

"Shit! That bastard is good!"

Tracy kept pounding away.

Left hook! Right cross! Uppercut!

I felt every hit rattle my bones, but I stayed firm, my arms locked in a tight guard.

Then—

DING! DING!

The bell rang.

Round one was over.

Alex's POVI staggered back to my corner, my vision blurred by blood and sweat.

The ring doctor stepped in, examining my right eye.

"The cut's deep," he muttered, quickly working to stop the bleeding. The cool touch of adrenaline swabs and Vaseline numbed the pain slightly.

I exhaled, my chest rising and falling as I tried to clear my mind. My ears were ringing. Everything felt muffled.

Across from me, Coach Kamogawa was talking.

But I couldn't hear him.

Is this it?

I felt a sinking dread in my stomach.

Is this how my career ends?

Suddenly, an image popped into my mind.

A man. Conor McGregor.

Not the confident, sharp, and lethal McGregor from his prime. No.

The broken McGregor. Drunk, partying, doing drugs. A man who once stood at the top but let it all slip away.

Is that my fate?

No.

NO.

Before the thought could consume me further, a sudden force snapped me back to reality.

"Oi!"

A hard hook from Coach Kamogawa slammed into my arm.

I blinked. My vision focused.

"Did you even hear what I just said?!" he barked.

I swallowed, then nodded silently.

Coach narrowed his eyes. He knew I was lying. But he didn't press it.

I shifted my gaze across the ring.

Tracy was staring at me.

His coach patted his shoulder, nodding. They were confident.

Then—

DING! DING!

The bell for Round 2 rang.

I stood up.

And suddenly—everything changed.

As I walked to the center of the ring, the world around me slowed.

The deafening crowd? Muted.

The bright lights? Dimmed.

Everything faded away except for one thing.

Tracy Spann.

The referee signaled us to continue.

Tracy moved first.

A jab.

A cross.

I saw it all.

I smoothly rolled my shoulder, deflecting both punches like water flowing around a rock.

Tracy's eyes burned with murderous intent.

But it didn't faze me.

He followed up—double body shots and a right hook.

I caught them on my guard, then—

BAM!

I countered with a sharp right cross.

CRACK.

His nose broke instantly.

Blood gushed out.

But Tracy, fueled by adrenaline, didn't stop.

He kept punching, wild and desperate.

I kept dodging. Countering. Slipping through the chaos effortlessly.

ESPN Commentary BoothJohn's voice was filled with disbelief.

"What is this?! I've NEVER seen anything like this before!"

Calvin, usually confident and cocky, looked completely shaken.

"What happened?! Why is this fight turning around like this?!" His hands clutched his headset in shock.

Tokyo, Japan (11 AM, Live)In Japan, millions were watching.

Keiko Ijūin, the NHK co-host, had her hands over her face.

But through her fingers, her eyes widened.

"YES! ALEX IS FIGHTING BACK!" she shouted.

She turned to her co-host, Tetsuya Chikushi.

A man in his 50s, usually serious and composed—but now?

His expression was filled with pure amazement.

His voice trembled slightly as he muttered,

"This… this is the Flow State."

Keiko blinked, puzzled. "Flow State?"

The millions of viewers leaned in, listening.

Tetsuya straightened his posture, regaining his composure.

"I've only heard of it in stories," he said, voice steady now. "But here's what I know.

"It's a mental state where an athlete becomes completely absorbed in their task. Their movements become instinctual—fluid—like second nature. Right now, Alex is no longer thinking."

"He is simply acting."

Keiko's jaw dropped.

And across Japan, millions of people sat in awe.

Tracy's POVWhy?

Why won't you just give up?!

I threw everything at him.

A right uppercut. A left hook to the body.

But he dodged it.

Then—BAM!

A left hook crashed into my face.

I CAN'T SEE!

Blood poured into my left eye.

I CAN'T BREATHE!

My nose was completely shattered.

I'M DROWNING!

But—I refuse to fall.

I refuse to lose!

I roared in my mind.

I threw a desperate jab.

But then—

I saw him.

Alex.

He slipped INSIDE my punch—

And in one smooth motion—

BAM!

A left uppercut slammed into my chin.

BAM!

A right cross followed immediately.

Everything turned black.

Alex's POV

stood over Tracy, his battered face pressed against the canvas, his body completely still.

The referee knelt beside him, counting—but it didn't matter.

He was out.

Then—

"TEN! IT'S OVER!"

The referee waved his arms, signaling the end of the fight.

I won.

But... something inside me still wasn't satisfied.

A smirk crept onto my face as I took a step forward.

Then, I reached down, gripping an imaginary shovel.

And I started digging.

One. Two. Three shovels.

I pantomimed tossing the dirt over Tracy's unconscious body—burying him.

Authors note: there is a guy in the comment section suggested this so i put it here.

The arena fell silent for a moment.

Normally, this kind of taunt would be met with boos, jeers—outrage.

But instead—

They stood.

They clapped.

The roaring applause filled the entire stadium. They weren't just entertained; they were in awe.

I turned towards my corner.

Coach Kamogawa. Yagi. Takamura.

They were already rushing toward me.

Before I could react, Takamura grabbed me and lifted me into the air.

"YOU DID IT! THAT WAS AMAZING!" he bellowed, laughing loudly. "YOU'RE THE CHAMPION, Alex!"

I could see it—pride in Kamogawa's eyes. Yagi, usually calm and collected, was smiling ear to ear.

The referee waved me over, signaling for the official decision.

I stepped forward. Tracy had just regained consciousness.

He slowly pushed himself up, blood dripping from his broken nose, his lips split, his brow cut wide open.

Then—

Michael Buffer raised the mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has stopped this contest at 20 seconds in Round Two, declaring the winner by knockout…

AND NEW—WBO LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD…"

He paused, letting the suspense build.

"ALEX 'THE GREAT' MAKUNOUCHI!!!"

The referee grabbed my wrist and threw my arm into the air.

The crowd erupted.

A thunderous explosion of cheers.

Not just admiration—but absolute respect.

They had witnessed a masterpiece.

As the cheers echoed around me, I turned toward Tracy.

He stood there, his face swollen, his body broken—but his spirit still intact.

I extended my hand.

"Respect to you," I said in English.

Tracy stared at me.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then, slowly, he bowed.

He was too injured to speak, but that one gesture said it all.

We shook hands.

The crowd clapped even louder.

Michael Buffer handed me the mic.

"Do you have anything to say to the world?"

A translator stood by, ready to interpret my words.

I raised the mic to my lips and took a deep breath.

Then, in Japanese, I said:

"I did it.

To my supporters back home in Japan—thank you!

And full respect to Tracy."

I turned, pointing at him.

"He gave me my first real challenge. Just like they say—

'It takes two to tango.'"

The translator repeated my words, and when the crowd heard the phrase—they laughed.

But then—I leaned forward.

The arena quieted.

I stared directly into the camera.

"Marcus Rosario."

I let his name hang in the air.

Then—I dragged my thumb across my throat.

The crowd went insane.

"ALEX! ALEX! ALEX!"

ESPN Commentary BoothJohn, still in disbelief, shook his head.

"This… this is HISTORY!"

Calvin, the usually skeptical co-host, sighed and nodded.

"I'll admit… I had my prejudices against Alex. But tonight, he conquered the entire U.S. boxing scene."

He exhaled.

"And… he gained my respect."

NHK BroadcastKeiko Ijūin and Tetsuya Chikushi were jumping up and down on live TV.

The usually composed Tetsuya pumped his fist into the air, shouting:

"HE DID IT! HE DID IT!! ALEX MAKUNOUCHI IS WORLD CHAMPION!!!"

Across millions of Japanese households, families cheered, screamed, and celebrated.

Makunouchi Household – Tokyo, JapanIppo, Aoki, and Kimura danced around the room, screaming in excitement.

"HE'S THE CHAMP!"

Mari and Aunt Hiroko clung to each other, hugging tightly, tears of joy streaming down their faces.

I turned back toward the center, where Michael Buffer held the WBO Championship Belt.

He handed it to me.

I lifted it into the air.

The cheers grew even louder.

But as I looked at the golden plate, I felt its true weight.

Not physically.

Mentally.

This wasn't just a title.

It was a symbol.

The referee took the belt and handed it to Coach Kamogawa.

He stepped forward, then wrapped it around my waist.

A world champion.

A real champion.

Then—Takamura suddenly crouched down.

Before I could react, he threw me over his back and lifted me up.

The crowd cheered louder as I instinctively raised my fist into the air.

"ALEX! ALEX! THE GREAT! THE GREAT!"

Camera flashes exploded all around me.

I smiled.

I felt it—

Like I was on top of the world.

Note: im not uploading on Saturday because im watching ufc 313 just a heads up if your expecting a chapter on Saturday