The Boxing System: I Became the King of the Ring-Chapter 24: Now You’re Licensed

"The winner by split decision... Javier Restrepo!"

The referee grabbed Javier’s wrist and raised it high. The gym went crazy. Noise hit him like a wall - cheering, screaming, whistling.

Javier swayed in the center of the ring, chest heaving. His legs felt like rubber. Everything hurt, but the adrenaline kept him standing.

Devon walked over and touched gloves one last time. His face was swollen, blood crusted under his nose, but he looked Javier in the eye.

"Good scrap," Devon said, spitting out his mouthguard.

"Yeah. You too."

Devon nodded and climbed through the ropes. His corner surrounded him, but he walked out under his own power. Tough kid.

Miguel rushed into the ring and grabbed Javier in a bear hug.

"You did it! You actually beat him!"

Vicente appeared at the ring edge, arms crossed. He didn’t smile, didn’t cheer. Just gave one small nod.

But that nod hit Javier harder than any punch. His chest went tight with emotion he couldn’t name.

Miguel started working on Javier’s gloves, his hands steady despite all the chaos around them.

"Let’s get these off. You need to sit down."

The crowd pressed against the ring from every side. Group home kids climbed onto the apron, yelling and laughing. Tommy sat on the ring steps with ice pressed to his face, but he was grinning wide.

Danny pushed through the crowd with Jamal next to him. Both trainers looked pleased.

"You boys fought well today," Danny said to Javier and Tommy. "But now you got something bigger coming."

Miguel looked up from unlacing Javier’s gloves. "Tell them."

Danny’s smile got bigger. "Your USA Boxing licenses came in this morning. You’re official now."

Javier blinked. "What?"

Tommy’s head shot up. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Miguel said. "You’re in the system. Real boxers with real records."

Jamal patted Javier’s shoulder. "Welcome to the show."

Miguel kept working on the gloves. "Golden Gloves starts in February. Today was just a warm-up. That’s where it gets real."

The words made Javier think deeply about his progress. He wasn’t just some group home kid anymore. He was a licensed boxer, a real fighter.

Tommy started to say something, but the Marcus Garvey kids swarmed the ring.

"Javi! That was sick!" Kevin yelled, jumping onto the canvas.

"You rocked him with that hook!" Carlos shouted.

"Tommy, you had Jamal hurt in round two!" David added.

The ring filled with excited voices. Everyone talked at once, creating a wall of sound that made Javier dizzy.

Through it all, Vicente stood alone at ringside. Arms folded, watching the celebration with something soft in his ghostly eyes.

When their eyes met across the chaos, Vicente nodded again. Slower this time.

Javier nodded back, his throat getting tight. That ghost’s approval meant everything.

The system window blinked in the corner of his vision:

[BOXING MATCH COMPLETE]

[MINOR FRACTURE: LEFT RIB - HEALING TIME: 3 DAYS]

[FATIGUE DETECTED: MUSCLE RECOVERY ETA: 18 HOURS]

[NO NEW TRAITS UNLOCKED]

Javier let out a long breath. Now that the fight was over, the pain started creeping in. His ribs ached. His shoulders burned. His jaw felt swollen.

But he couldn’t stop smiling.

The ring started clearing out as people made room for the next fights. Miguel wiped sweat from his forehead and looked around the gym.

"Come on," Miguel said, nodding toward the corner. "Let’s get some water and watch the pros."

Javier followed Miguel to ringside seats. Two professional heavyweights were warming up in opposite corners. No headgear. No chest guards. Just tape on their hands and murder in their eyes.

These guys moved differently. Faster. Sharper. Every punch meant business.

"Those fighters started exactly where you are," Miguel said quietly. "Golden Gloves champions first. Then they went pro."

Javier watched the heavyweights hunt each other around the ring. The way they moved, the timing of their attacks - it was scary and beautiful at the same time.

For the first time, he could picture himself in there. Not just surviving, but belonging.

One heavyweight threw a perfect right hand. His opponent dropped like a sack of rocks, hitting the canvas hard.

Javier winced but kept watching.

That could be his future. Standing over someone knocked out cold. Or getting knocked out himself.

The fallen fighter lay still for a moment before slowly rolling over and sitting up, shaking his head to clear it.