My Pro Boxer System

I opened the door to my room, but the space before me wasn't my room. It was an empty stadium with a ring in the center. There was a girl lying upside down on a chair outside the ring, her white hair spilling onto the floor.

"Oh, you're here." She did a handstand off the chair and landed on her feet. "Took you long enough."

Her voice sounded familiar.

"Are you… Alexa?"

She looked at me with a soft expression, her delicate cheeks softening into a blush. It sent a ripple through my heart as the realization sunk in. Honestly, I never expected her to be a real girl; I thought she was some hyperactive AI or maybe some kind of god. But instead, she looked like a regular girl.

For one, she was short; even I, standing at 5'8", towered over her. Her hair was white like polished silver, and despite everything, she was really cute. She had a mischievous air about her, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

If I were into regular girls, I definitely would've gone for her but alas, my type was otherworldly beauties who don't exist in this realm; a regular girl simply wouldn't live up to my expectation so I try to stay as far away from them as possible.

Her welcoming smile spoon morphed into a frown. 

"You're thinking something weird, aren't you?"

"I was wondering how such boisterous laughs could come from such a small body."

She folded her arms, giving me a look that could cut steel.

"Make fun of my appearance again and I'll send you to a place that makes hell look like a playground." she said with a bit of sass. "Anyway, you'll begin your basic training for the day. Step inside the ring."

She gestured toward the ring behind her, and that was when I saw him for the first time. There was a man inside the ring holding two sets of boxing gloves. He hadn't been there when I arrived; it was as if he materialized out of thin air. His face was completely expressionless.

"Who is he?" I asked, a little creeped out by the man's lack of expression.

She cocked her head to the side and rested her index finger on her chin.

"He's one of my dolls. Don't worry; his body belonged to a carpenter, but his soul is that of a veteran boxer. He'll make a splendid coach and sparring partner."

Her words concerned me a little, but still, I climbed through the ropes and entered the ring. The floor was wooden but firm. From inside the ring, it seemed a lot bigger. The man threw a pair of gloves toward me.

"Put these on."

The way he spoke was robotic; it held no emotion. It was like I was staring at a shell of a human being.

The inside of the glove was soft and comfy, and so was the outside. I was left wondering how something like this could hurt someone. The man aligned himself in front of me and began speaking.

"The most important thing in boxing is your guard," he stated.

"I thought the most important thing was knocking someone on their ass."

He ignored my jest completely.

"One must always be ready to move his feet, either to retreat or to advance. The toe of your right foot must be directly behind and in line with the left heel."

I did as he said and aligned my feet without trouble. The stance felt a little strange, and I suspected it would take some time before I got accustomed to it.

"Good. Your right arm should now be across your rib. In boxing, we refer to this spot as the mark. Your left arm should be up to your chin, guarding your face."

He approached me and started adjusting my head.

"You should lower your chin and keep your head slightly tilted to the right. Make sure it bends slightly over your right shoulder. This prevents both your eyes from being hit at once. You keep your head to the right so it isn't directly in line with your opponent's left hand, thus not making you an easy target."

He grabbed hold of my wrist, his huge hand wrapping around it seamlessly.

"Your hand isn't clenched. Keep your hand clenched, or you risk lowering the force of your punch and spraining your hand."

"Uh… Oh… Yes, sir."

I didn't know how to react; his eyes were dilated as if he were some kind of ghost. I had this strange feeling in my stomach that the man in front of me wasn't even human.

"You must become accustomed to this stance. You must keep your muscles relaxed so that this stance can become second nature for you," the man continued, maintaining his robotic tone. "Now that you're on your guard, the first thing you'll learn is feinting, which is to offer a false attack to your opponent."

Though I was a complete amateur, I knew what feinting was. It's like tricking someone into thinking you are going to punch them just to mess with their head; then, when they are confused, you come in with a sneaky punch.

"I must tell you that there are many styles of boxing. The one I'm teaching you is the one most deemed suitable for you after a thorough analysis of your body, habits, and brain function."

"Eventually, you will grow into your own style of boxing, and we will be there to guide you along," Alexa interjected. She was seated on her chair, watching us attentively with a smirk.

The man didn't even spare her a glance before continuing.

"Back to the topic: you'll be learning how to feint with your foot."

"My foot?"

"Yes," he said stoutly, without any wavering or doubt. "Moving in and out of a person's space confuses them. For example, a quick rush may cause the person to attempt a block, leaving an opening you can exploit. A perfect side step can cause them to lead in a way that gives you the perfect opportunity for a counter."

I was slowly understanding what he was saying, which caused me to crack a smile. It's like a bait and switch; just by using swift movements, I could force my opponent to open themselves up, allowing me to slowly pick away at them.

The realization made me understand a boxing phrase I had heard a while back:

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee." I muttered.

"The reason I'm teaching you this first is that feinting is a core part of boxing. From the moment the match begins, you want to keep your opponent confused and bewildered until the bell rings, signaling the end."

As he spoke, I couldn't help but notice his feet tapping on the ground. The movement alone was distracting; my eyes kept glancing back and forth between his face and his feet tapping the wooden floor.

"To feint isn't just to use your hands and feet. It requires every trick you can come up with. From a twitch of your eye to a nonchalant attitude, it is any trick that makes your opponent think, 'Yes, this is the time to attack.'"

My eyes shifted to his feet again, and in that split second, he lunged at me. My hands flew to my face, expecting a hit to the head, but instead, I felt a sharp pain as the man plunged his fist into my abdomen.

I learned in that moment that the gloves indeed weren't soft.

Pain gripped me from the inside out, turning my legs to jelly as I collapsed to the ground in agony. My vision was a haze as I struggled to regain my breath.

Through the chaos, I heard the sound of cackling laughter as Alexa clutched her stomach and fell off her chair, laughing. The sight irritated me. I bit down so hard on my lip tasting a metallic taste in my mouth. The man's cold eyes stared down at me like an invisible pressure as I crouched, holding my stomach.

"Your next lesson: how to deliver a blow."