Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

Defeating Tyson wasn't about the money for Link; it was about the experience of fighting against a heavyweight boxer.

After squaring off with Tyson, he knew where he stood in comparison with other heavyweight boxers and felt more confident about handling heavier opponents in the future.

Moreover, Tyson is a legendary boxer, a spokesperson of the boxing world, and to share the stage with him is the dream of every boxer.

Link had thought about fighting Tyson before, but when he began his career, Tyson was already in his fifties, and they were in different ranks.

Now that he had the chance to fight Tyson—and to defeat him while Tyson was still capable of fighting—it felt incredibly good.

"Link, what are you doing here?"

In the hotel lobby, Ivanka walked through the crowd, dressed in a wine-red off-shoulder gown.

With her golden hair tied up, her fair skin shimmered coldly, her slender swan neck adorned with a string of colorful gemstone necklace, below which were two voluptuous curves. Even though her chest was perfectly wrapped, the contour revealed was enough to merit a few extra glances.

The slit of her dress rose above the knee, revealing her long, straight legs as she walked – almost 1.1 meters long, comparable to Taylor's. The difference was that Taylor's were paler and slimmer, while Ivanka's were rounder, seemingly more elastic to the sight.

Link took an appreciative look before shifting his gaze to Ivanka's delicate makeup.

"Just had a few drinks, now here listening to music."

"Don't stand around here; you're the star of the party, and many people want to have a chat with you," Ivanka said, gesturing towards the lively crowd.

Link felt somewhat helpless.

After the boxing match, Mr. Thomp had held a grand celebration party at the hotel, inviting hundreds of VIPs to attend. It appeared to celebrate his victory, but it was more like a fundraising event for the Thompson Group.

Link wasn't interested in such parties. After interacting with a few people, he went alone to the piano stage to watch the band play.

"Maybe wait a bit longer, your dad seems to be giving an important speech," Ivanka said, looking at Mr. Thomp who was pontificating among the crowd.

"Never mind him; the party would be over by the time he finishes," Ivanka said with resignation.

Link smiled wryly, agreeing with her. Mr. Thomp was a social terrorist; give him an audience, and he could talk non-stop for days and nights.

Ivanka brushed her golden hair beside her ear and said as they walked, "Link, you are now a socialite, a multimillionaire, and part of the upper class. You should learn how to socialize here, like during parties, try to meet as many people as you can, and get their business cards.

"The people qualified to be here are all of distinguished status, holding various resources in their hands. By getting to know them, you might receive their help when necessary. That's the power of networking."

Link nodded, understanding what Ivanka meant and the significance of networking.

But he had his own way of making money, so he didn't value these connections as much and didn't want to pretend to fit into the upper-class mold.

"Ivanka, we're partners, I'll handle the music creation, and you manage the social interactions, how about that?"

"But you can't just stand here; that will come off as aloof, and no one will dare to approach you for a chat."

Ivanka, not caring whether he was willing or not, grabbed his arm and led him into the crowd, introducing him to a bunch of acquaintances.

There were New Jersey state legislators, New Jersey real estate tycoons, Atlantic City casino owners, Atlantic Records presidents, Fox TV executives, and more, either billionaires, political figures, or high-level executives of Fortune 500 companies.

——

At first, Link thought Ivanka was helping him network until he noticed the hostile stares from the sons and grandsons of several moguls; he suddenly realized he might be used as a shield.

"Make sure you treat me to dinner another day."

In the middle of the crowd, Link said to Ivanka with his head lowered.

"Why?"

With her smile unchanged, Ivanka asked in a voice only audible to them both.

Link glanced around and said with a smile, "Just look at their stares. If looks could kill, I'd be dead a thousand times over."

Ivanka noticed where he was looking and said, biting her lips, "You're a boxing champion, why fear these men who are like queers?"

"Of course I don't fear them; that's why I'm asking you for a meal and not running away."

Suddenly, Link put his arm around Ivanka's waist, and his hand unintentionally slid a bit downward to a more dangerous spot.

The glares of the men became sharper, their gazes growing more hostile towards him.

Ivanka stiffened momentarily before relaxing again; she pursed her lips and said, "Don't go too far, or if they attack you, I won't help you."

"Wouldn't that help you even more?"

"You're being a hooligan," Ivanka said.

She pinched the flesh around his waist, looking for a soft spot, but finding none, she simply pinched his skin and asked coldly, "How does that feel?"

Withdrawing his hand, Link praised, "First-rate!"

"Hmm!"

Ivanka gave him a tight pinch before letting go, then looked over at a few middle-aged women who were chatting.

"That woman in the pink suit up ahead, she's Murdoch's wife. You speak Mandarin, right? Go and chat with her; she might take a liking to you. Next to her is a board member of the Hearst Corporation, a widow. You could also try your luck with her."

"No chance now, your dad's coming this way."

Link looked towards the center of the crowd, where he saw Mr. Thomp approaching with a grim face and an odd gait, his blonde hair flowing, resembling an old but ambitious lion.

"He's really bothersome."

Ivanka let go of Link and took the initiative to approach.

The father and daughter walked to one side, talking in low voices, seemingly not in a good mood.

Link had no intention of getting involved in their family dispute, and when he saw director Woody Allen approaching, he took the initiative to go up and greet him.

——

"Hey, Link, are you dating Miss Thomp?"

Director Woody Allen came over and asked.

Martin Scorsese, another famous Hollywood director, was with him.

Director Scorsese's representative works include "Taxi Driver," "King of Comedy," "Cape Fear," "The Departed," "The Aviator," "Gangs of New York," and so on.

He has won the best director awards at the three major European film festivals, the Golden Globe Awards in America, and the Oscar for Best Director. He's practically a Grand Slam director.

In contrast to Woody Allen's casual style of dress, Scorsese wore a neatly tailored suit and a bow tie; with his full head of black hair and thick, dark eyebrows, he did not look to be in his sixties.

Link greeted both directors, "Don't misunderstand, Miss Thomp and I are business partners, we founded a record company together."

"Is that so? Everyone at the party was discussing when you two would get married. They are all very envious of you," Director Woody Allen said with a twinkle in his eye, joking.

"Haha, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint everyone, we're not that kind of relationship."

Link said, raising his glass.

"Link, did Allen tell you that you are interested in acting?" Director Scorsese said.

"Haha, this kid said he wants to become an Oscar Best Actor."

Woody Allen burst out laughing, coughing a few times.

Director Scorsese also looked at him with surprise; a boxing champion wanting to become a Film Emperor? Unless he has god-level acting skills, it seems like he wants to take a swing at the acting professionals by changing careers.

Link shrugged his shoulders and smiled, "I like to do challenging things, such as boxing, singing, and acting. If I can become a professional actor then the Oscars are my target."

"It's great for a young man to have goals," Director Scorsese said with a smile, as they exchanged contact information.

The directors, being older, didn't stay long and left early to rest at the hotel.

After seeing them off, Link returned to the party scene and encountered Holyfield, De La Hoya, and Larry Holmes coming up to greet him.

Holyfield was a boxer under the main event banner; they had met in the ring before.

Larry Holmes was a New Yorker; after retiring, he was employed by the main event as a part-time boxing coach, and Link had chatted with him a few times.

This was his first meeting with De La Hoya.

The man was 35 years old, not very tall, a light-skinned Latino with good looks, who had secured world champion titles in six different weight classes and was one of the highest-paid boxers in terms of appearance fees, known as the 'Golden Boy' of boxing.

He was not just a boxer but also an entrepreneur, owning a company called Golden Boy Promotions, a casual wear company, a real estate company, he launched a Spanish-language boxing channel on HBO cable television, and held the distribution rights for four major boxing magazines.

With a net worth of several hundred million, he was indeed a model of success for any boxer.

"Link, are you interested in joining Golden Boy Promotions? I heard you once offered Franco one condition, a hundred million US Dollars. I'll give you fifty million, plus shares in Golden Boy Promotions worth at least fifty million. How's that?"

Hoyle, dressed in a suit and tie with his hair slicked back, had the air of a successful person.

Link was somewhat surprised that the other party was trying to woo him at this time; he thought about it and still declined.

Golden Boy Promotions, founded in '04, was mainly responsible for De La Hoya's boxing events. In recent years, it has signed several boxers and is doing well. In the future, they will sign champions like Alvarez and Golovkin, becoming one of the top five promotion companies in boxing in terms of strength.

If it had been before the establishment of Dynasty Promotions, he might have considered joining Golden Boy Promotions.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

But now, being a world champion boxer himself, with the generous treatment provided by Dynasty and considering that Hoyle, after becoming a boss, also became a capitalist with cases of withholding boxers' shares, Link didn't believe Hoyle would offer a better revenue share than Dynasty Promotions.

"Link, I can offer you a 70% revenue share for the matches?" Hoyle further said.

"90% and I might consider it," Link said with a laugh.

After pondering for a moment, Hoyle shook his head; a 9:1 split left no profit margin for the promotion company.

"Link, let's have a match and see whose skills are better."

"Are you sure?"

In his younger years, Hoyle was quite strong, having won a gold medal at the Olympics, the Golden Gloves championship, and the National Amateur Championships in the United States, with an amateur record of 223 wins and 5 losses. Purely in terms of amateur achievements, not many in the boxing world could compare.

After turning professional in '92 he subsequently won world champion titles in six weight categories: Super Featherweight, Lightweight, Super Lightweight, Welterweight, Super Welterweight, and Middleweight, becoming an idol to Pacquiao.

But in recent years, moving up to Super Welterweight and Middleweight, his strength has seen a significant decline, suffering defeats to Bernard Hopkins, Mayweather, and Pacquiao.

Facing him, Link did not think Hoyle stood much of a chance of winning.

"I think our match would generate a considerable income," Hoyle said with a meaningful smile.

Link thought about it, understanding the other party's intentions.

After his loss to Pacquiao, there were rumors of Hoyle planning to retire, but as one of the boxers with the highest appearance fees in the industry, retiring directly would not be profitable.

He probably wanted to make a big score before retiring. Considering their skin color, looks, skill, and fame, with the right handling, the attention this match could generate might rivaled the Hoyle vs. Pacquiao match.

The prize money could potentially break the hundred million US Dollar mark.

With this in mind, Link felt that a exhibition match with Hoyle wasn't a bad idea.