The American TV series "Four-Round Boxing Champion Starts with Shameless"

Page 121

The flashes were deafening, almost burning one's retinas.

Ubelman wore an impeccably warm smile, holding Viktor's hand tightly with one hand and patting Viktor's muscular shoulder vigorously with the other, their posture as intimate as if they were long-lost brothers.

Viktor was injured, but he didn't care.

"Chicago is proud to have a boxer like Victor Lee!"

Ubelman's voice boomed through the microphone, resonating throughout the streets with a powerful and theatrical impact: "He faced the world's strongest boxer without fear, fighting to the very last moment! This is not just sportsmanship, it's the spirit of Chicago—tenacity, resilience, and never giving up! He is the true embodiment of the spirit of our Windy City!"

Viktor stood to the side, his bronze face expressionless except for a stiff upward curve at the corner of his mouth, which served as his response.

His gaze occasionally swept across the audience, briefly meeting the eyes of a few familiar faces.

French Lee, along with Blair and Jimmy, stood in the front row of the audience.

Frankie, dressed in a well-tailored suit, tried to conceal the street-smart aura he'd developed, but looking at Ubelman's face, he couldn't help but let out a barely audible snort and whispered to Blair beside him:

"Look at that old fox. He didn't say a word when Victor won the All-American Gold Glove Championship. Now he's here to reap the rewards and sing praises."

Blair adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes behind the lenses calm yet laced with sarcasm: "Political investment, Franky. He used to think Victor was just a boxer with some potential, but now..."

He paused, lowering his voice even further, "Now Victor has given Tyson a real beating, and more importantly, we've 'taken care of' Shree and unified the gang. Our 'influence' has made him restless. This applause isn't for boxer Victor, it's for 'Chicago Godfather' Victor."

Jimmy grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, his smile somewhat cruel: "Shameless? No, Blair, this is professional. Look at him, how convincingly he's acting. I almost believed he was genuinely happy for Victor."

On stage, Ubelman's performance reached its climax as he waved his arms: "Victor Lee represents a successful example of Chicago's multicultural integration! His story of struggle embodies the American Dream!"

He spoke at length, praising Victor as a moral paragon and a role model for the community, never mentioning the shady deals and bloodshed that followed.

Victor nodded in agreement, occasionally saying, "Thank you for your encouragement, Mr. Senator," or "Chicago is my home."

But his hand that wasn't being held remained in his pocket, his knuckles slightly white.

Both he and Ubelman were playing roles: one a politician who was courteous and proud, the other an athlete who brought glory to Chicago and was moved to tears.

It was a tacitly agreed-upon act, performed for reporters, for the public, and for each other to see.

The welcoming ceremony finally ended amidst yet another wave of hypocritical heat.

The reporters were very satisfied with the large amount of "positive" material they had gathered.

Ubelman put his arm around Viktor's shoulder affectionately and whispered, "Viktor, my friend, we need to talk privately. There are some things about community development that we need your opinion on."

Turning to Franky, Blair, and Jimmy, he said, "Come on over, you guys. You're all Victor's most trusted partners."

Chapter 100 is here, sign it!

The group walked through the back door of the boxing gym, instantly shutting out the noise.

The corridor was dark and damp, filled with the mixed smells of disinfectant, sweat, and old leather, a stark contrast to the bright and shiny world outside.

Ubelman's assistant quickly opened a small lounge, and everyone filed in.

The moment the door closed, the enthusiastic mask on Ubelman's face instantly fell away.

He loosened his tie, the fat on his face relaxed, and his eyes became sharp and cold, all traces of his previous intimacy vanished.

He didn't even wait for anyone else to sit down before walking straight to the center of the room, turning around, and speaking in a condescending tone:

“Victor, first of all, I must say that today’s ceremony was a great success. The public needs to see that we are one, so they will know how much I have helped you!”

He then changed the subject, his tone turning somber, "However, I've heard some unsettling news about some recent 'changes' within your Chinese community."

The Siri incident has caused a huge uproar in the community, which is very bad. The infighting and violence have disrupted community stability and created significant problems for my work. I am extremely dissatisfied.

He tried to create a sense of pressure, as if he were still the politician in control, reprimanding a 'problem person' in his jurisdiction.

"Hand over Siri and let him lead you again..."

He put on a great show of borrowing the tiger's power, but unfortunately, he chose the wrong target and the wrong occasion.

Victor didn't even look at him.

He slowly and deliberately took off his exquisitely tailored suit jacket and carefully hung it on the hanger beside him, as if the jacket was far more important than the city councilor in front of him.

Then he turned around, stretched his neck, and made a slight clicking sound.

His eyes were calm, yet like a frozen lake, chillingly cold.

Franky then shoved the M9 directly into his assistant's mouth.

“Representative Ubelman,”

Viktor spoke, his voice low but sharp like a cold blade scraping across the room, instantly shattering Ubelman's feigned authority: "There are no reporters here, no cameras. Drop your act."

Ubelman was taken aback, his face flushing red: "What kind of attitude is this? I'm talking to you about serious business! The stability of the community..."

Victor interrupted him, a cold sneer playing on his lips, "When you and Veronica were having an affair in the office and then you hired a gunman to kill their whole family, did you ever think about the stability of the community?!"

Every word was like a heavy punch, slamming into Ubelman's face.

His face turned from red to white, and his fingers trembled slightly: "You...you dare threaten me? Do you know..."

"I know it very well."

Viktor took a step forward. He was about the same height as Ubelman, but significantly larger, and his shadow almost completely enveloped the other man. "I know every one of your shady secrets. I know who you gave the municipal engineering contracts to and how much kickback you took. I know your gambling debts and your mistress. I know everything about you."

The room was deathly silent.

Frankie was maintaining the pistol in the mouth of Ubelman's assistant, leaning against the wall, his face showing undisguised pleasure.

Blair's eyes gleamed behind his glasses as he silently jotted everything down on paper—adjusting his strategy and keeping a record of it in response to Victor's assertiveness.

Jimmy, like a hunting dog poised to pounce, kept a close eye on Ubelman and his assistant.

“Sri has left Chicago, left this world, and will never come back. Don’t think about him. Jesus can’t save him, I’m telling you!”

Viktor's voice was deep and clear, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, yet carrying an ultimate threat: "So, stop putting on airs with me. Now, I'm giving you two choices."

He held out two fingers.

“First, it’s a fight to the death. I shut down my business, and I expose everything—your stuff and mine—to the Chicago Tribune and the FBI. We go down together. You lose your political career, go to jail, or worse. I go back to the streets, or start over somewhere else. You know I can do it.”

Cold sweat beaded on Ubelman's forehead. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Viktor wagged his second finger: "Second, we're allied. You're no longer a superior 'expressing discontent,' we're partners. I'll offer political donations you can't refuse, to help you, or anyone you designate, rise to a higher position."

And you, in turn, use your power to provide 'help' when I need it—such as redirecting certain investigations or facilitating the issuance of certain licenses. We each get what we need.

"You...you're extorting me! Shameless!"

Ubelman spat out those words through gritted teeth, trembling with rage, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.

His meticulously constructed fortress crumbled before the Chinese man before him.

Victor finally smiled, the smile of a hunter seeing his prey fall into his trap. "Weren't you the one who was just at the door, praising me to the camera as 'Chicago's pride,' Mr. Senator? Who's more shameless? Choose. Go to hell together, or get rich together?"

A long silence.

The only sound in the lounge was Ubelman's heavy breathing.

He was in turmoil. Dignity, anger, fear, greed for power, and dread of disgrace... all sorts of emotions intertwined on his obese face.

He glanced at Victor's unwavering eyes, then quickly swept his gaze over Frankie, Blair, and Jimmy—their silent presence was a silent threat in itself.

He knew he had no choice.

From the moment Victor decided to eliminate Sri and consolidate his forces, or rather, from the moment Ubelman himself got involved in those dirty deeds and Victor seized on his weakness, he had already lost the power to choose.

Today’s welcoming ceremony was less a gesture of goodwill than a futile attempt by him to reaffirm his dominance.

And now, the attempt has failed completely.

He was like a mangy dog ​​whose bones had been removed; his shoulders slumped, and all his imposing manner vanished.

He swallowed hard, his voice dry and hoarse: "...Cooperation. I choose to cooperate."

Viktor nodded, as if he had known this would be the answer all along.

He felt neither the joy of victory nor further humiliation; he simply withdrew his hand calmly.

"Michael, let's take a picture to commemorate our friendship."

Michael picked up the camera.

"Blair, bring me your records."

Blair placed the record in front of Upelman and thoughtfully offered him ink.

Then Victor pointed to the signature area: "Here, sign!"

Ubelman did as instructed.

Victor took back the paper and handed it to Franky.

“A wise choice, Mr. Congressman. Blair will handle the funding and follow-up matters. You can go wherever you need any ‘instructions’ in the future.”

Things have settled.

Ubelman seemed to have all his strength drained away, nodding dejectedly and not even daring to look Viktor in the eye.

Victor ignored him and turned to Blair, who had remained silent, and instructed in a clear and calm tone: "Blair, the newly established 'TWC Security Company' can operate under the banner of Congressman Ubelman. He is our 'community advisor' and 'security advocate'."

Blair bowed slightly, a knowing smile playing on his lips: "Understood, Victor. The Congressman's reputation will certainly make our business more...formal."

Upon hearing these words, the last trace of color drained from Ubelman's face.

I understand. This is not just a name; it's a mark, a brand.

From this day forward, his name, Ubelman, will be officially linked to Victor Lee's Dark Empire.

He was no longer the politician who occasionally accepted bribes to provide shelter; he became one of them, a flag raised high, a shield that simultaneously attracted sunlight and attention.

He lost his independence and dignity, but gained temporary security and future benefits in return. Perhaps there are even higher steps to climb, but those steps are made of blood and sin.

But Viktor needs to appease Ubelman.

So Franky put the M9 away and put two stacks of banknotes in his assistant's pocket: "To calm your nerves."

Viktor then took out a check and two cards and handed them to Ubelman:

"Mr. Congressman, this is our statement from 1985: a VIP card for your most frequently visited hotel, which you can use with confidence. And this is a gesture of goodwill of $30. Blair will visit again later."

He eventually staggered away with his assistant and left first.

As Ubelman was leaving, Victor said, "Mr. Congressman, I have just hired Miss Nasha as a member of our company. I hope you don't mind."