The Boxing System: I Became the King of the Ring

"Yo, Javi. Wake up, man."

Tommy’s hand shook Javier’s shoulder. His voice was too loud, disturbing the quiet Sunday morning. The black eye from his fight looked better now - yellow-green instead of deep purple. But his grin was infectious.

Javier’s eyes opened slowly. His body felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Every muscle ached. His ribs throbbed where Devon had caught him clean in round one.

"What time is it?" Javier groaned, rolling over.

"Nine thirty. Carlos’s game starts at noon."

The group home was alive with noise. Kids ran between rooms, shouting about finding clean clothes and borrowing shoes. Doors slammed. Voices echoed through thin walls.

Javier sat up careful, wincing when pain shot through his side. "State championship, right?"

"Hell yeah. First time any of us made it this far." Tommy bounced on his toes. "Carlos has been up since six, pacing around like a caged animal."

The system window flickered weak in Javier’s vision:

[MINOR RIB FRACTURE: 94% HEALED]

[REST REQUIRED: 48 MORE HOURS]

He pushed himself off the low mattress. His legs felt stiff. Everything hurt, but he felt proud of that hurt, they were battle scars.