chsdbacks Page 169
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However, Simon's remarks, after being reported by the media, sparked widespread public discussion about street crime and police effectiveness.
The Times headline read:
The lawyer asked: Who is actually on trial? The boxer or the London police?
A police spokesperson was forced to hold a press conference to defend his record and promise to increase patrols.
The Home Secretary even indicated that he would consider amending the law to clarify the scope of the right to self-defense.
Although Simon's vehement defense was not entirely successful legally, it won a moral victory and changed the direction of public discourse.
The moment the court declared Victor innocent, a crack finally appeared on his steely face, and a look of relief flashed in his eyes.
He hugged Simon Lester tightly and thanked him repeatedly in Chicago-accented English: "Thank you, Sir. You not only saved my life, but also my soul."
Simon smiled and patted him on the back, ignoring the country bumpkin's accent: "No, young man, your pounds saved you."
As he left the courtroom, Victor was surrounded by reporters.
He stopped, took a deep breath, and said, "I never take pride in taking lives, even in protecting myself. It's a tragedy that those young people's lives were wasted on violence. But I hope my experience can tell everyone: when faced with violence, you have the right to protect yourself. You also have the right to live and see tomorrow's sun."
That evening, Victor had dinner with Simon at his club, and the two talked until late into the night.
Before leaving England, Victor gave Simon a gift—the watch he had saved that night, with the inscription on the back: "To Simon Lester: The Boxer of Truth".
The old lawyer accepted the gift and said softly, "You know what, Victor? You're so generous!"
Victor smiled and replied, “Then we’re all boxers, Sir. It’s just that your ring is the courtroom, and your fists are words.”
Two people from different backgrounds and nationalities stood on a foggy London street, shook hands and said goodbye. Their encounter was brief but forever changed the course of their lives.
Chapter 143 Chicago Welcomes World Boxing Champion
As the plane landed at O'Hare International Airport, Victor looked out the window at the Chicago skyline.
This windy city witnessed his transformation from an unknown to a world boxing champion.
The hatch opened, and he adjusted his tie. His sharply defined face showed no signs of fatigue from the twelve rounds of fierce fighting; instead, it gleamed with the sharp light of a victor.
"Victor, welcome back to Chicago!"
Congressman Ubelman's voice was loud and enthusiastic. He opened his arms to greet them, followed by a group of people in suits and a constant stream of flashing cameras.
The two important figures clasped hands, and the sound of reporters' camera shutters filled the air.
Viktor maintained a perfectly measured smile as he climbed the heights with Ubelman, but he was half a body wider, his broad shoulders appearing exceptionally upright in his custom-made suit.
Ubelman, on the other hand, has the typical look of a politician—well-groomed silver hair, a slightly plump figure cleverly concealed by a well-fitting suit, and that signature smile that can simultaneously convey sincerity and authority.
“Victor, my friend! You have brought glory to Chicago!”
Ubelman put his arm around Viktor's shoulder and turned to the camera, their intimate gesture forever captured in the frame.
This scene will be featured on the front page of tomorrow's Chicago Tribune, with the headline "WBA World Boxing Champion's Friendly Moment with Congressman".
Viktor responded to Ubelman's enthusiasm, but his mind remained as clear as a mirror.
This is not friendship, but an exchange of power and fame.
He needed Upelman's political network, Upelman needed his fame and growing influence in the Chinese community, and most importantly, his political donations.
The tacit understanding of mutual exploitation was packaged as a beautiful story of mutual appreciation.
A reporter in the group shouted, "Mr. Viktor, what are your plans after becoming the world boxing champion? Will you consider entering politics?"
Victor turned to the source of the sound, his eyes firm and steady: "My plan is to continue serving the Chicago community, whether in the boxing ring or anywhere else."
It cleverly avoided political issues, leaving people with endless room for imagination.
Ubelman chimed in: "Victor is the pride of Chicago! He has proven that hard work and determination can overcome any difficulty!"
The senator's arm remained draped over Victor's shoulder, as if they were longtime friends.
Viktor nodded in agreement, but inwardly he was calculating the value of this performance.
Every photograph, every quote, will increase his leverage in the city.
He fought his way up from the slums to become a world boxing champion, and then entered the political and business world. He understands better than anyone the real value of fame and influence.
······
That evening, Victor sat in Ubelman's Lincoln and drove to one of Chicago's most exclusive private clubs.
Outside the window, the city lights are coming on, creating a dazzling display of colors.
"There will be some very interesting people tonight,"
Ubelman handed him a glass of whiskey. “The publisher of the Chicago Tribune, the chairman of the Midwest Banking Association, and several CEOs of large corporations. They all want to meet our boxing champion.”
Victor gently swirled the amber liquid in his glass, but did not drink it immediately.
"I am looking forward."
He gave a brief reply, his gaze still fixed on the window. These people, who "only appeared in the newspapers," were now drinking with him—a transformation that would have been unimaginable a few years ago.
The club is located on the top floor of a historic building on Michigan Avenue. The moment the elevator doors opened, Victor was slightly overwhelmed by the luxury before him.
Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling like stars, and priceless original oil paintings adorn the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer an unparalleled view of downtown Chicago at night.
The air was filled with the rich aroma of cigars, the fragrance of fine perfumes, and the intoxicating scent of aged wines.
"Victor Lee! I've finally met him in person!"
A slightly overweight middle-aged man was the first to approach, the wine in his glass swaying slightly with his hurried pace.
"I'm Richard Morris from the Midwest Bank League. Your fight last week was amazing! That uppercut, God, Valuyev must still be reeling!"
Viktor shook hands politely and smiled.
"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Morris. I was just lucky."
"Luck? No, no, no, that's talent plus training!"
Another voice broke in, this time a tall, thin man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, with an even more reserved demeanor.
“I’m James Ellington from the Chicago Business Weekly. I must say, the way you beat Valuyev was impressive.”
Ubelman watched with satisfaction as Viktor was surrounded by the crowd.
He gently nudged Victor's elbow and quietly introduced the approaching figures: "That's the chairman of the Chicago Urban Planning Commission over there..."
The woman in the red evening gown is the daughter of an Illinois Supreme Court judge…
Among the group that just came in were some of the biggest local real estate developers… See that one? That’s the Kennedy family.”
Victor handled the situation with composure, his behavior surprising many—a former boxer about to become a district councilor, who should have been rude and uncouth, instead displayed an almost innate elegance and social skills.
Few people know that Viktor has hired etiquette coaches and public speaking instructors for the past two years, and his rigorous training is no less than that required for any boxing match.
At the dinner, Victor was seated between Ubelman and the chairman of the banking union, a clearly honorary seat.
The dishes were so exquisite that it was almost a shame to eat them—pan-fried foie gras with black truffle, Mediterranean lobster bisque, Australian Wagyu ribeye steak, each paired with a fine wine.
“Victor, what are your thoughts on the business environment in Chicago?”
The bank chairman asked the question casually, but in reality, he was testing the business acumen of this newly rich man.
Victor put down his knife and fork and calmly replied, "Chicago has a unique geographical location and human resources; the key is how to integrate these advantages."
I believe there is still great potential in logistics, food processing, and the sports industry.
He tactfully mentioned that his Skywind City Group was developing in these areas, but without over-promoting it—most importantly, Victor stated that he would not enter the finance, real estate, and high-tech sectors.
During the meeting, Victor not only talked about boxing and business, but also shared his insights on education reform, community building, and racial equality, demonstrating a political acumen far exceeding expectations.
Several people who had originally come just to meet celebrities began to develop a real interest in him.
"You should consider running for mayor in the next election,"
A real estate tycoon half-jokingly said, "Chicago needs people with your drive and pragmatism."
Victor raised his glass in a toast, but made no promises, much less believed that he was just a Chinese American.
He knew perfectly well how much of that flattery was just empty talk under the influence of alcohol, and how much was a genuine suggestion worth considering.
After the dinner, Victor's coat pockets were stuffed with business cards, and his phone had been filled with the contact information of countless important people.
He made several commercial endorsement commitments, all of which were carefully selected to avoid conflict with the business of Skywind City Group.
As he waited for his car at the club entrance, Upelman patted him on the shoulder: "A great night, my friend. You impressed them."
"Thanks to your introduction, Mr. Congressman, we have had a very pleasant working relationship!"
Viktor showed no humility whatsoever, even though he knew in his heart that his performance was the key.
"There's a charity gala next week, and I hope you can attend. The governor might be there."
Ubelman threw out a new bait.
Victor nodded in agreement, adding another item to his schedule: "I know Blair will attend this charity gala and donate $200,000."
Two hundred thousand US dollars?
Ubelman frowned: "He holds at least fifteen charity galas a year. You'll be losing out by doing this. I'm only donating a symbolic ten thousand dollars."
"Then let's pay him the full $150,000 in one go!"
“Good idea, you can get one of the Chicago docks.”
The Lincoln slowly pulled up, and after getting in, he finally allowed himself to show a hint of fatigue.
But the rest was short-lived; he knew that Blair, the CEO of Skywind City Group, was waiting for him at his apartment to give a report.
Victor's apartment is located on the top floor of a newly built high-rise building in the South District, a world completely different from the slums where he grew up.
As he walked in, Blair immediately stood up from the sofa.
"Welcome home, Mr. Victor. Congratulations on winning the gold belt!"
Blair, at twenty-five, always wore a well-pressed suit and had his hair perfectly styled, looking like an old man. He was the actual workhorse of the Skywind City Group's daily operations.
"Thank you, Blair. Sorry to have kept you waiting."
Victor took off his coat, gesturing for the other person to sit down. "Would you like something to drink?"
"No need, thank you. I'd like to get straight to the point, after all, your time is valuable."