Chapter3

The night after Morris's third game ended, I saw a push ad on my phone.

The cover features a photo of Jason Ward in training gear, standing in the boxing ring, his muscles gleaming in the light, his expression resolute like something out of a movie. The headline reads: "From Zero to the Gold Belt—The Exclusive Training Secrets of 'Iron Hammer' Jason Ward."

Subtitle: "WBC No. 3 ranked boxer teaches you, summarizing ten years of practical experience, limited-time offer: $1999."

I clicked in and read the course description.

This course, jointly developed by Jason "Iron Hammer" Ward and his manager Tara Ward, is the first systematic public release of Jason's training methods and technical system, based on his ten years of professional boxing experience. The course includes: strength training plans, technical movement breakdown, sparring strategy development, pre-fight psychological adjustment…

I scrolled down.

I recognize every chapter in the course catalog.

"How to lose weight and gain muscle in three months" was the first training plan I designed for Jason.

"Adjusting the Defensive Posture of a Left-Handed Opponent" was a book I helped him revise over a month after he was knocked down for the first time.

"The Energy Distribution Strategy of a Heavyweight Boxer" is a rhythm control method that I developed over three years based on his physical data.

They didn't even change the terminology.

"The Golden Triangle of Explosive Power Training" is a name I invented myself because I drew a triangle diagram of strength, speed, and skill and posted it on the first page of Jason's training log.

I threw my phone on the table.

Morris was icing his right hand. He glanced at me and asked, "What's wrong?"

"fine."

"You look terrible, and you're still okay?"

I handed him the phone.

Morris watched for a moment, then looked up: "Is this Jason's lesson?"

"right."

"Did you teach him the content?"

"right."

"They didn't write your name?"

"No."

Morris handed the phone back to me, scoffing, "So they repackaged your ten years' worth of stuff as Jason's 'exclusive secrets' and sold it?"

"right."

Aren't you going to go find them?

"Why would you want to talk to them?" I leaned back in my chair. "They'll say, 'This is a summary of Jason's ten years of training,' 'The coach's methods are meant for boxers,' and 'The course is signed by Jason and Tara because they're the ones running it.'"

Then the lawyer will tell me that training methods are not protected by copyright, and my notebook can only prove that I taught him, not that he couldn't summarize it.

So you're just admitting it?

I opened the course details page and zoomed in on the "Instructor Introduction" section to show him.

Jason "The Hammer" Ward, ranked third in the WBC heavyweight division, boasts a professional record of 23 wins and 2 losses, with 15 knockouts. In his ten-year professional career, he rose from an unknown newcomer to a world-class fighter. His unique training methods are known in the industry as the "Hammer System"...

I stopped.

"See that? 'Its training methods are unique,' the 'Hammer System.'"

"They didn't even mention my name."

I locked my phone and tossed it on the table.

"In their narrative, Jason is a gifted boxer, Tara is a professional manager, and the two of them have worked together for ten years, developing a training system. As for the coach? The coach is just a tool, a supporting role in helping Jason realize his talent. Now that the tool has been replaced, the old one doesn't need to be remembered."

Morris remained silent for a long time.

So what are you planning to do?

I stood up, walked to the cabinet in my office, and took out the black hardcover notebook.

"I intend to show the world who this 'system' really belongs to."

Three days later, I contacted a journalist friend who did live sports broadcasts.

"Hey old friend, are you free next week? Come film Morris's training session. We'll be live-streaming it."

"More news?"

"Yes. I'll be revealing some things after training."

"What is that?"

"My training log from the past ten years. Free to read."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"Are you crazy?"

"Everyone else has sold them for money, what use are they to me?"

"Are you trying to completely break ties with Jason?"

"It's not about tearing each other apart." I looked out the window at the bus stop across the street.

"I want to tell everyone who the true creator of this system is."

A week later, the number of viewers in the live stream exceeded two million.

I sat in front of the camera, with Maurice hitting the punching bag behind me. Every punch he landed on the bag sounded like a drumbeat, and the air in the entire gym seemed to vibrate.

I opened the black notebook and pointed the first page at the camera.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today I'm going to reveal my entire training log from the past ten years."

"Why share this publicly? Because three days ago, I saw a course ad. The cover featured Jason Ward, and the title was 'From Zero to Gold Belt—Iron Hammer's Exclusive Training Secrets,' priced at $1999."

I turned to the first page.

"This was ten years ago today. Jason Ward walked into my gym for the first time. He weighed 230 pounds, had 28% body fat, and couldn't even throw a standard jab. This was the first training plan I designed for him: a three-month weight loss program."

"And in that course's syllabus, the first chapter is titled 'How to Lose Weight and Gain Muscle in Three Months.' The content is exactly the same, even the division of training cycles hasn't been changed."

I continued turning the page.

"That was the day he was first knocked down. His opponent was left-handed, and his defensive stance wasn't suited to him. I spent a whole month adjusting his footwork and designing a defensive system specifically for left-handed opponents."

I turned this page towards the camera again.

I turned the pages one by one.

With each page I turned, I compared it to a chapter of the course.

My notebook contains complete data tables and three years' worth of adjustment records. The triangle chart I drew is on page 47 of the notebook. It also contains a psychological counseling process I specifically designed based on Jason's personality traits.

Every chapter, every term, every training detail is in my notebook.

I stopped when I turned to the last page.

"This is my ten years. Every page has a date, a handwritten signature, and the original data."

I looked at the camera.

"And in the instructor introductions for that course, only Jason Ward and Tara Ward's names were listed. They said it was the 'Hammer System,' a culmination of Jason's ten-year career."

I closed the laptop.

"So today, I've decided to give away these ten years of my book for free to anyone who wants to learn boxing. I will scan this notebook into an electronic version, upload it online, and anyone can download it for free."

"I don't want credit, I don't want copyright, I don't want any reward."

I just want everyone to know—

I held up my notebook and pointed it at the camera.

"This system isn't called the 'Hammer System'."

"It's called the 'Vince Sanchez Training Method'."

"It was always mine."

The comment section exploded instantly.

"Holy crap, this is a real slap in the face!"

"So Jason's lessons consisted of copying the coach's notes?"

"It's not plagiarism, it's just that they didn't feel the need to mention the coach's name."

"This is disgusting! A coach taught for ten years, and in the end, he didn't even get a signature?"

"Screenshot taken! Waiting for Jason's response!"

"Jason made a killing by buying a coach's free notes for $1999."

After the live stream ended, I scanned my notebook and uploaded it online. The file name was "Vince Sanchez's Ten-Year Training Log".

When the upload was complete, I received a call from an unknown number.

It's Tara's lawyer.

"Mr. Sanchez, on behalf of Ms. Tara Ward and Mr. Jason Ward, I hereby formally inform you that the content you disclosed during the live stream is suspected of infringing upon the commercial interests of our clients, and we reserve the right to pursue legal action."

I interrupted him: "Are you going to sue me for publishing my own notes?"

"The content you published is highly similar to our clients' courses, constituting unfair competition—"

"That's because you copied my notes during your classes."

"Mr. Sanchez, please watch your wording. Our client's course is based on Mr. Jason Ward's ten-year professional experience and has nothing to do with your notes—"

I laughed.

"Fine. Go ahead and sue. See you in court."

I hung up the phone.

Morris came over and handed me a bottle of water: "Are they going to sue you?"

"I'm going to sue."

Are you scared?

"What's there to be afraid of?" I unscrewed the water bottle. "If they really dare to sue, I'll release all ten years' worth of training videos. Then the whole world will see that every single one of Jason's techniques was taught to me by hand."

Morris laughed: "That's a ruthless move."

"It's not that I'm ruthless. It's that I've finally understood something."

"What's up?"

"They don't care about me because they think I'm unimportant."

"Then I'll show the whole world that without me, Jason Ward is nothing."

That night, a comparison picture began circulating online.

On the left is Jason's course catalog, and on the right is a scanned page from my notebook.

Each chapter can be found in the notebook.

Even the page numbers are marked.

Someone posted this image on Jason's social media with the caption: "So the 'Hammer System' should be renamed the 'Sanchez System'?"

Jason did not respond.

Tara did not respond.

They deleted the course page.

But netizens have already taken screenshots.

Jason called me at 3 a.m.

His voice was calm, as if he were talking about someone else.

"You think you've won?"

I didn't answer.

"Wait until Maurice gets his face smashed in the boxing ring, then let's see how you pretend to be a saint."

He hung up the phone.

I sat in my office, looking out at the night sky. Inside the boxing gym, Maurice was still hitting the punching bag. The dents in the bag hadn't bounced back yet, and the chain made a heavy scraping sound.

I walked over and stood by the boxing ring.

"Maurice."

He stopped and turned around.

Jason said he'd beat you to a pulp in the ring.

Morris wiped his sweat and smiled.

"Then let him give it a try."

Are you scared?

"What's there to be afraid of? I boxed for twelve years in prison, and I beat up everyone who tried to bully me. Who is Jason? All his techniques were taught by you, and so did mine. What makes you think he can beat me?"

I nodded.

"Then keep training. One day, you'll meet him in the ring. Then, you'll show the world—"

Morris stood back in front of the sandbag and assumed a fighting stance.

He threw a punch.

The sandbag makes that sound I never tire of hearing—crack.

You don't have to mention my name.

But you can't erase my existence.