Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

Boom!

In the morning, in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, New York, the weather was gloomy. The tall buildings were also enveloped in dark clouds, resembling Gotham City from a Batman movie.

The cars on the road caught up from behind, bringing a chill breeze and a few yellow leaves.

Link Baker wore a red Nike sports hoodie and green joggers, running along Fifth Avenue outside Central Park. He ran from the museum district to near the Waldorf Apartments when suddenly, the sky began to rain. This was his third rain since he had come to New York.

It started as a light drizzle, but before he had run 300 meters, the rain suddenly intensified, and the air became misty.

Link sped up, dashing under a bus stop shelter, using the overhanging awning to shield himself from the pouring rain.

Since he often lived in Miami, where it was sunny most of the year and even the rainstorms were quick, coming at night and leaving by day, he rarely experienced the persistent dreary rain like in New York. After such rains, the roads were damp, and the air turned cool and moist, making Link miss the sunny Miami.

"Are you Link Baker? The Olympic champion, Mr. Link Baker?"

As Link, with his hands in his pockets, looked out at the sky beyond the awning, he heard someone speaking next to him—it was the homeless man lying on the bench.

Dressed in dirty clothes, with unkempt beard and an unpleasant smell emanating from him, there was also a worn-out travel backpack on the ground.

Link had no bias against such persons because there had been times when he himself had fared even worse. At least they could relax on the benches outside Central Park and enjoy the rain and breeze, something he couldn't do.

"Yes, I'm Link. Do you know me, sir?"

Link thought about the lollipops in his pocket and handed one to the homeless man.

"Haha, I see you every day. How could I not recognize you?"

The homeless man laughed and pointed to the scrolling advertisement on the bus stop.

Link looked back and saw his own ad for Tide detergent that he had shot in Los Angeles not long ago. Although he didn't understand why Procter & Gamble would choose a boxer as their spokesperson, the offer was two years for $600,000 US Dollars, which Link naturally couldn't refuse.

After the Olympics, the brand shot the ad overnight. Just five days later, the ad featuring him was on TV, and even on bus stop billboards.

In the ad, he wore a sea-blue knitted shirt and white casual pants, next to a bucket of Tide detergent in blue packaging. The slogan was "Champion detergent, with excellent stain removal power."

Link looked at his own face, pale and clean, not feeling a bit greasy, and suddenly understood why Tide had chosen him as their spokesperson.

"Mr. Baker, what brings you to New York? I heard you're from Miami."

The homeless man spoke.

"Yes!"

Link, with a citrus lollipop in his mouth, replied, "Do you know about the WBA Super Middleweight Golden Belt competition? I'm here to participate in the match."

"Oh, I've seen that episode of 'Follow the Champion to Watch Boxing.' Man, you have to admit your punches are impressive, even more so than Tyson's. You're definitely going to be a world champion one day."

"Thank you!"

Link smiled and bumped fists with him.

Bus number M86 burst through the rain and stopped in front of the bus station. Link waved to the homeless man and ran into the bus, taking the slow ride back to the Yorkville apartments on East 80th Street, a wealthy neighborhood adjacent to the New York City Museum and Central Park.

This apartment was arranged by Franco, featuring two bedrooms, four bathrooms, a large terrace, and a gym, luxuriously decorated. Based on this area's real estate prices, this apartment was valued at over three million US Dollars.

In the garage below the apartment building, there was a silver-gray Mercedes-Benz S-Class sedan, meant for his transportation.

All these were Franco's way of apologizing.

Originally, Franco had agreed to move the Dynasty headquarters to Miami within the year, but currently, Dynasty had a shortage of funds. Establishing a new headquarters, training field, medical therapy center, and building new channels all required a significant amount of money.

After a meeting, everyone decided to initially keep the headquarters in New York. Miami could have a branch, and when finances allowed, they could gradually relocate.

Link had no objections to this.

As a boxer, as long as there were matches and he could make money, it didn't matter where he fought. Also, to make a name for himself in America, he couldn't be limited to just Miami; he needed to make his mark in other places too.

New York was one of the birthplaces of American boxing and also home to the headquarters of boxing organizations like WBA, WBC, and IBF. Holding boxing matches here attracted many spectators and offered a broader market.

However, he had discussed with Franco that if he reached the finals in the WBA Golden Belt competition, it would be best to hold the final in Miami. He had more fans there, and in terms of influence and economic benefits, Miami was undoubtedly more suitable. Franco also agreed with his opinion.

When Link returned to the Yorkville apartments on 80th Street, just as he walked into the lobby, he saw a girl sitting on the sofa, her hair damp, wearing a cream-colored hoodie and blue jeans, holding her legs with both hands, her forehead resting on her knees, and her golden-brown hair spread out to the sides, covering her cheeks.

Upon hearing the footsteps, the girl looked up and revealed a pair of blue fox-like eyes, a beautiful facial contour—it was Taylor Swift.

"Hey~ Link, why are you so late?"

Taylor jumped off the sofa and rushed over to him.

"Taylor, what brings you here?"

Link touched her rain-drenched shoulder, which felt as moist as his own. As he asked about her visit, he led her into the elevator.

"I came here to record an album, arrived yesterday afternoon, and had asked you for your address a few days ago. As soon as I woke up this morning, I took a cab here. I tried calling you, but couldn't get through," Taylor said, holding his warm palm.

"I was jogging in Central Park without my phone. Remember to let me know in advance next time. Except for my morning runs, I mostly spend my time at the main events training ground in Queens and I don't bring my phone there either."

"Got it. How long will you be staying in New York this time?"

Taylor asked, leaning on him.

"Probably a month or two, maybe longer."

"That's great!"

Taylor clapped her hands excitedly and smiled up at him, "I'll also be here for two weeks or maybe longer, so we can meet up more often."

"Sounds good."

Link took Taylor back to the apartment, noticed her clothes were a bit damp, and found her a white long-sleeve T-shirt and capris. At her height of 180 cm, the clothes weren't too long on her.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Link, care to join me?"

Taylor stood in front of the bathroom, turned around, and winked at him with a slightly flushed cheek that had an awkward allure.

Link simply smiled and pushed her into the bathroom.

He then went to the kitchen and prepared a dish of shrimp seafood pasta and a thick broccoli beef stew. Just as he was setting the table, Taylor, drying her hair and still damp from the shower, came out.

Wearing his long T-shirt and pure cotton pants, she looked somewhat slender, but her rosy cheeks, fair skin, and beautiful smile added to her charm and youthful vitality.

"Link, am I a sexy girl?"

Taylor asked, drying her hair.

"Why do you ask?"

Link looked at her curiously.

"Don't ask why, just tell me how you feel about it."

Taylor intentionally pulled up the hem of her T-shirt, revealing her fair belly and slender waistline, looking a bit sexy.

Link gave a soft smile. The nineteen-year-old Taylor was still taking the innocent route. Neither her figure nor her demeanor was particularly sensual, but to a young woman, being considered sexy was very important. He admired her and said, "You're not just sexy, you're also quite a hot girl."

"Really? Then why didn't you take up my offer to join me in the bathroom just now?"

Taylor asked, sitting beside him.

"It's not that I was afraid to come, but are you sure you wanted to do that kind of thing in the morning?"

"Alright! I was just testing you to see if you were a lustful guy. You passed,"

Taylor patted his shoulder, smiled slightly, and started sipping the stew he made, repeatedly praising that his cooking was fantastic, a hundred times tastier than what her mom, who couldn't do household chores and only knew how to cause trouble, would make.

Link forked some pasta and asked, "Did you tell your mom before you came here? If you forgot, you should give her a call so she won't worry."

"I told her. I said I was going to see you and asked her not to bother me before noon. She's been behaving well lately. She hasn't called me even though I've been out this long,"

Taylor said, placing her phone on the table and lighting up the screen.

Link nodded and didn't say much more. He knew that Mrs. Andrea didn't approve of his relationship with Taylor and roughly knew the reasons, so he had never initiated contact with Taylor in the past to avoid creating problems for each other.

However, since the Olympics, Mrs. Andrea seemed to have changed her attitude slightly. Last time she picked up when he called Taylor, her tone was much softer, not as cold and distant as before.

Link was pleased with the change. If he had disregarded her displeasure and clung to Taylor in the past, it would have only met with her strong rejection. But now, having proven his strength and capabilities with his fists, he no longer needed to say anything.

The change was also one of the gains from the Olympics.

"What are you smiling at?"

Taylor asked with a spoon in hand, pretending to be upset, "Are you laughing at me for being greedy?"

"Of course not, I'm just glad you like the soup I made. By the way, what are you recording in New York, a new album?"

Link changed the subject and asked.

"No, it's a charity song about dreams. I don't like the songs the company provided, and I want to write my own, but I'm lacking inspiration. Link, you're a world champion and a symbol of the American Dream. Could you share your story and feelings with me? I hope to find some inspiration from you. How does that sound?"

Taylor propped her cheek with her hand and asked with a beaming smile.

"Of course, but let's eat first,"

Link said, pointing at the toast on the plate.