Nigel Bennett personally opened the railing to let Simon into the ring. Ignoring the buzzing discussions that had already started around them, he looked at his boss's well-built physique, which was far superior to most ordinary people, and still said worriedly, "Boss, why don't we go back and practice for a while before coming up? This is quite dangerous".
Simon stretched his wrists and reached out to Nigel, saying, "It's a bit loose. Help me put it on again".
Nigel Bennett helplessly tightened Simon's boxing gloves through the railing. He looked him up and down, then turned to instruct the nearby fight club manager. The manager quickly had someone bring a set of joint protectors and called a bikini-clad ring girl onto the stage to help Simon put them on.
Simon sat down on the stool Nigel had pushed in and said to the eager brown-haired girl who had come over, "Forget the wrist and knee pads, just the ankle supports will do".
The brown-haired girl nodded obediently. She squatted in front of Simon, watched him cross his leg, and reached out to pull the man's foot towards her, resting it directly on a section of her fair thigh. As she put on the protectors, she said, "Mr. Westeros, my name is Danica".
Simon didn't refuse this small gesture of intimacy and smiled, "Hello, my name is Simon".
Danica smiled, revealing two pretty dimples.
With the ankle supports on, Simon stood up and bounced a couple of times, then raised a hand to the fight club manager nearby.
"And this", Nigel Bennett, still guarding the other side of the railing, held up a mouthguard to Simon. Noticing the hesitation in Simon's expression, he proactively explained, "It's new".
Only then did Simon open his mouth and put it on.
Inside the fight club, the commotion from the audience grew increasingly noticeable.
Simon put on his mouthguard, then glanced one last time at Patrick Johnston and James Pike below the stage, before starting his warm-up.
On the other side, a boxer with a buzz cut and a physique similar to Simon's also entered the ring and smiled at Simon.
However, his expression clearly showed apprehension.
Simon Westeros.
How was he supposed to fight this guy?
Everyone in the venue was a professional boxer, making a living from this sport.
Who was Simon Westeros?
The youngest super-rich, North America's richest man with a net worth of six billion dollars, a Hollywood big-shot director, a genius in financial investment, Johnston's son-in-law... a long list of accolades.
But he didn't have the boxer attribute, did he?
Fighting against someone like him, winning offered no benefits, and losing offered even fewer.
More seriously.
If he accidentally hurt him, the consequences would be even worse.
The announcer, however, began his introduction, his voice trembling as he said, "Next up, we have Jason Greer versus... Simon Westeros!"
With the announcement, the venue erupted in an uproar, and the crowd clearly surged towards the ring.
Many people had been speculating, thinking it was just a similar appearance.
Now.
It really was Simon Westeros!
Below the ring, James Packer felt the restless energy of the surrounding audience and said to Patrick beside him, "How about we call it off? Simon and your sister are getting married soon; we don't want him to get hurt."
Patrick, with an expression as if he wanted to see the world in chaos, casually pointed to Nigel Bennett and another bodyguard standing by the ring and said, "Someone's watching, and it's been arranged on stage; there won't be any problems".
James Packer, however, regretted it more and more as he thought about it.
He really shouldn't have encouraged Simon to go on stage with Patrick just now. If anything unexpected happened, he felt his old man would definitely break his legs.
He wanted to say a few more words to the boxer and referee on stage, but he couldn't find an opportunity at that moment.
On the boxing ring.
The middle-aged referee routinely checked the protective gear on both Simon and Jason, and finally asked in a low voice, "Mr. Westeros, are you sure you want to do this?"
In this venue, apart from Patrick and the spectators who loved a good show, everyone else actually didn't want Simon to go on stage.
You can't joke around like this!
Simon nodded again and then said to Jason Greer, who seemed to be contemplating how to respond, "Go all out. I can afford to lose. If you beat me, I'll give you 100,000 dollars".
Upon hearing Simon's words, Jason Greer's spirits immediately lifted.
The referee next to him, however, winked at Jason when Simon wasn't looking.
Take it easy. Money is important, but life is even more important.
Jason Greer noticed the middle-aged referee's gaze and immediately understood. He calmed down a bit and began to ponder how to defeat this billionaire without making him lose too badly.
The curvaceous bikini-clad ring girl walked around the venue once, the gong sounded, and the match officially began.
Simon raised his hands to protect himself, bowed slightly, and skilfully adopted a defensive stance.
Having inherited the memories of so many people, Simon had a good number of combat techniques stored in his mind, and he had never neglected his fitness in recent years. Moreover, Simon had always known that he possessed a natural strength far exceeding that of ordinary people. Although he had never undergone extreme testing, a 200-kilogram bench press in the gym was effortless for him.
Therefore, he was quite confident that he wouldn't be too embarrassed in a freestyle fighting match with not too many rules.
As he took his defensive stance, for the entire three minutes of the first round, Simon kept moving and dodging, barely throwing any punches.
Jason Greer probably understood that Simon was trying to get a feel for things. Moreover, from Simon's rather professional fighting stance, he knew that this billionaire was not completely ignorant of combat, so he was no longer so hesitant and patiently accompanied Simon in the engagement.
In the second round, Simon finally began to try throwing punches, and Jason Greer, remembering Simon's promised $100,000, also started to counterattack.
However, the confrontation was still not very intense.
The uninitiated watched for the spectacle.
When the third round began, and Simon was still dodging more than attacking, while Jason Greer seemed to still be 'playing around' with this important figure, boos had already started to erupt in the venue.
Everyone wasn't there to watch a rigged fight.
As an insider, Jason Greer was becoming increasingly surprised, because he had unknowingly exerted more than seventy percent of his strength, but his opponent was still at ease.
Moreover.
Although he wasn't hit many times, when Simon Westeros hit him, it really fucking hurt.
The standard five-round match quickly reached the fourth round.
Having given way for three rounds, this time, as soon as it began, Jason Greer launched a fierce attack on Simon without holding back. Simon maintained his defensive stance but also started to increase his counterattacks.
With such an intense confrontation, the boos from the audience finally subsided, and everyone watched intently, waiting for one side to be defeated.
In the boxing ring, after seemingly struggling to block a combination attack from Jason Greer, Simon, seizing the moment when his opponent's centre of gravity was off-kilter, suddenly gathered strength and unleashed a powerful hook.
Bang—
This wasn't a movie.
Of course, it wasn't the sound of a punch.
Instead, it was the sound of a burly man, 1.8 meters tall and weighing 90 kilograms, collapsing like a broken sack.
Both on and off the stage, everyone who had been worried that Simon would suffer such a fate was stunned. After a few seconds of bewilderment, seeing Jason Greer lying motionless on the ground, two doctors who had been waiting below the stage quickly rushed up.
After a frantic examination, one of the doctors said to Simon, "Mr. Westeros, he's fainted".
"Just fainted?"
"Perhaps a slight concussion, but it shouldn't be a major issue".
The manager instructed the staff to carry Jason Greer away. Only then did the referee remember, he stepped forward, grabbed Simon's right hand, and raised it. The announcer's high-pitched voice came over the broadcast at the opportune moment: "The winner is, Simon Westeros!"
Applause erupted below the stage.
Simon, however, did not descend. Still feeling a craving for more, he walked to the edge of the stage and said to the astonished fight club manager, "Next one. Tell them, if they beat me, they get 100,000 dollars. If they lose, they get nothing".
Seeing that Simon wanted to continue, the audience, who hadn't felt much excitement until then, finally gave him even more enthusiastic applause.
Then.
The second match.
The third match.
The fourth match… When Simon, using his opponent's own methods, knocked down his tenth opponent, an Asian man from Thailand, with a vicious elbow strike, the already packed fight club erupted in a unified, enthusiastic roar as more and more people poured in.
"Westeros, Westeros, Westeros..."
Ten consecutive matches, ten consecutive KOs. Many boxing enthusiasts in the venue looked at Simon with an admiration that transcended mere fandom.
Witnessing a super-rich man consecutively defeat ten opponents, most people felt that even as mere spectators, this was enough to brag about for many years.
Simon himself, naturally, could not remain completely unscathed. Nigel Bennett, who had been guarding the side of the ring to prevent any accidents, saw his boss's noticeably swollen cheek and other injuries on his body. After the referee announced the result, he opened the railing and entered the ring, saying, "Boss, you can't continue".
Simon also felt somewhat exhausted. He looked up at the electronic clock hanging in the venue; it was already past midnight, so he nodded.
However, Simon did not immediately descend the stage. Instead, he walked to the edge, gestured to the already dumbfounded Patrick, and then said to James Packer, who was next to him, "Go, get him changed. We'll have a match".
He knew his brother-in-law had brought him here tonight with ulterior motives.
In reality, although Patrick had instigated it, if Simon hadn't wanted to, he would never have succeeded.
Still, a lesson needed to be taught.
Patrick seemed not to have heard what Simon said, opening his mouth as if to ask, "Huh?"
Simon made another gesture to James Packer, and then Patrick was pulled backstage.
Nigel Bennett saw this situation and did not try to dissuade them.
Simon was covered in injuries now; even if they weren't serious, he would definitely be scolded by Raymond Johnston when he got back.
As the instigator, their most unaccomplished young master certainly deserved a lesson.
James Packer personally pulled Patrick backstage to change clothes, but in less than a minute, he ran back alone, a clear suppressed smile on his face, and said to Simon, "Pat ran off, Simon. Should we chase him back?"
Simon smiled and waved his hand, then, leaning on the railing, he used a little force to flip off the stage.
Seeing Simon leave the boxing ring, the audience, knowing there wouldn't be another match, immediately surged towards him, trying to find an opportunity to interact with Simon.
Nigel Bennett quickly gestured to the surrounding staff to protect Simon and push through the frantic crowd to the backstage area.
Sitting on a sofa backstage, Simon finally felt a sense of exhaustion. Listening to the faint shouts of 'Simon' and 'Westeros' coming from the front, he let several bikini-clad girls who gathered around help him take off his boxing gloves and ankle supports. Overwhelmed by intense fatigue, he closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep.
Although there were intermittent breaks, ten consecutive matches, lasting nearly three hours of high-intensity confrontation, had drained the last bit of energy from Simon's body.
He couldn't remember much of what happened next.
He vaguely felt being taken to the Johnston family's private medical centre in the city, undergoing various treatments. Janette also appeared, seemingly saying a few words, and then he returned to the mansion.
And then.
The hazy dark dream lasted for a long time. Someone was touching the wounds on his face. He casually grabbed the hand, pulled it closer, and held it in his arms.
It felt very reassuring.
Finally, he woke up. This was Simon and Janette's bedroom in the Johnston family mansion, with the woman curled up in his arms like a kitten.
He turned to look out the dim window, unsure if it was morning or dusk.
Feeling his movement, Janette opened her eyes, her beautiful gaze flickered a few times, then she leaned her head over, and her small white teeth bit his ear.
Pain shot through him, and Simon immediately pleaded, "Stop, if you bite it off, you'll be the one who feels bad".
"Bastard, I wouldn't feel bad for you", Janette pressed a little harder a few times before letting go of him. Her smooth cheek rubbed against Simon's face, then she propped herself up to look him in the eyes: "Don't ever do that again".
"Mmm, I won't", Simon said, looking up and kissing the woman's lips. "What time is it now?"
Janette didn't answer, cupping Simon's face and continuing to meet his gaze: "You must promise".
"I absolutely promise", Simon nodded solemnly, saying, "Actually, it was your brother who egged me on. I wanted to teach him a lesson in the end, but he ran away".
"I don't care about your messy affairs", Janette softened her body again, pressing against Simon and saying, "Dinner will be a while. Are you hungry? We could go out to eat?"
"Hungry, yes", Simon said, feeling something pressing against him. He reached down and found it was a button. He tossed it aside and continued to Janette, "But, let's eat at home. Also, is the old man angry?"
Janette retrieved the button, raised her hand and tossed it into the gap between the bedside table and the wall, watching it disappear. She then leaned back against Simon's chest and said, "No, but the media is quite lively today. The newspapers are all reporting 'Simon Westeros KOs ten opponents consecutively', and there are videos circulating. North America has reports too. You're a boxing champion now, aren't you proud?"
Simon, hearing the slight sarcasm in Janette's tone, said, "Aren't photos and videos generally not allowed in fight clubs?"
"You were going crazy on stage last night, and the whole of Melbourne was stirred up. So many people crowded in, how could you prevent something like that? It's a pity, after I rushed to the city, I could only see you in the hospital".
Simon smiled and said, "I was supposed to discuss the Cersei Capital matter with Tony today, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. Blockbuster is listing on the 18th. I'll stay one more day tomorrow, then I must rush back to North America the day after. Time is really tight".
Janette hummed, clearly showing little interest.
Simon sensed the woman's mood and stopped talking about those things. He gently lifted her light body and placed her to the side, saying, "Alright, you can lie down a bit longer. I need to get up now".
Janette's small arms wrapped around Simon's arm until he sat up. Finally, she scratched his back, then buried her head in the pillow, turning her head to gaze steadily at the man getting dressed.