Marcus said, “Starting from the lowest Mallorca Direwolf, how far I can go depends on my own performance.” I asked him, “How far are you planning to go?”

“Anlock Arrow-maned Bear!” Marcus slammed his fist into the wall and said resolutely. A dent appeared in the stone wall. I asked him, “Why? Isn’t it possible to pass with any of them? Why go all out?” “Because as long as you kill an Anlock Arrow-maned Bear, you can directly participate in the top-level boxing matches, without wasting time in the lower-level ones!” We looked at each other and understood Marcus’s plan. That’s right—if you get into the top matches earlier, you can earn money sooner, and leave the ring sooner.

The next day, Marcus walked into the first stone house under the gaze of all the trainees. We lined up outside waiting. Instructor Thompson paced back and forth in front of the line, hands behind his back, holding a baton. In less than a minute, a wolf’s howl came from inside the stone house. The door reopened, and Marcus walked out, full of energy. Instructor Thompson nodded and said to him, “Very good, Marcus, you’ve passed the test and can officially become a boxer. Do you want to continue the challenge?” Marcus nodded coldly. Instructor Thompson said, “Alright, go back for today, continue tomorrow!” He turned and shouted at us, “Keep training!” At noon, back in the dorm, we crowded around Marcus and asked, “How was it? Was it easy?” Marcus gave a mocking smile and flashed a victory sign: “Piece of cake, finished it with one punch!” “Whoa!” we all cheered for him in unison.

The next day, again, Marcus went in for less than half a minute, there was an animal’s wail, and Marcus came out. Instructor Thompson looked at him and said, “Looks like you’re ready for the next round of trials?” Marcus nodded, his dark face looking as if it were carved from stone. Instructor Thompson said, “Alright, prepare well today. Tomorrow won’t be as easy as today!” That night, our dorm was unusually quiet. No one spoke, because Marcus was sitting cross-legged on his bed in silence. We knew he was adjusting his state, striving to be in his best condition for tomorrow’s fight!

The next morning, Marcus got up early, ran three laps around the training ground, practiced a few sweeps and side kicks at the wooden stakes by the field, and did a few presses. The rest of us were about ready to gather as well. Everyone instinctively gathered by the side of the arena. The instructors didn’t scold us this time. They carefully opened the stone door. Inside was an iron cage made of iron bars as thick as an arm, connected to the stone house. A chilling “hiss hiss” sound came from inside the cage. Marcus took a deep breath and stepped inside.

“That thing was huge! At least twelve meters long, thirty centimeters thick! If it wrapped around me, I’d be dead for sure! I only had one chance—at the moment it lunged at me, I had to break its neck with a kick before it could bite me!” At noon, back in the dorm, we didn’t even bother eating, crowding around Marcus as he recounted his thrilling experience that morning. “…It bit at me three times in a row, but I dodged them all. The thing was clearly angry, shook its head hard a few times, and then charged at me like crazy. I dodged again, and it slammed into the iron cage with a ‘clang’—sparks even flew!” We all gasped, “That fierce?!” “Of course! You guys don’t know how fast that thing is! The last time it lunged, I wanted to kick it, but I couldn’t get the timing right—then it crashed like that, got a bit dizzy, and I was right next to it. One kick, just one kick ended the fight—I broke its neck with a single blow!” We all let out a long breath, “Impressive!”

The fight between Marcus and the Anlock Arrow-maned Bear was scheduled for three days later, because the Anlock Arrow-maned Bear was nothing like the previous opponents, and the boxer needed time to prepare. I remember that day, after he went in, we waited outside, listening to the roars of the bear and the furious shouts of Marcus coming from the stone house. It felt like countless ants were crawling in my heart. Instructor Thompson didn’t have any of his usual disciplinary tools with him today; he just stood at the door with his hands behind his back, his face calm—as if I could see the qualities of a true top boxer in him: the more critical the moment, the calmer he became! The roars from the stone house grew louder and more frequent. Marcus had been inside for thirty minutes already. We all knew the crucial moment had arrived. My hands were shaking. I looked at the others. The people from the other dorms didn’t have much to do with us; their eyes were filled only with excitement. The people from our dorm all looked at the stone house with the same anxious eyes as me. Morton’s legs were shaking—even more than mine!