The instructional class ended.
Zheng Haokang changed into his close-fitting clothes and pants in the locker room the club had specially cleared out for him.
Just then, a somewhat effeminate middle-aged man pushed open the door, talking nonstop.
"A Kang, have you really decided to retire next year and enter the entertainment industry?"
"Didn't you see how enthusiastic everyone was about you today? Even that appearance fee was barely a fraction of the registration fee..."
Zheng Haokang glanced back at his agent but did not answer him.
The agent continued grumbling:
"I think it's such a shame. You're still young and in your prime. You should work harder and keep striving..."
"What's there to regret?"
Zheng Haokang pulled on a tight-fitting shirt and interrupted him:
"What's the difference between boxing in the ring and boxing in a movie? Both are performances for the audience's entertainment. As long as there's money to be made, isn't that enough?"
Hearing this, the agent froze, then nodded despite himself:
"That does seem to make some sense."
"Don't let this out for now."
Zheng Haokang faced the mirror on the makeup table and tidied his hairstyle.
"After I win the title-defense challenge, I'll announce it to the public. It'll definitely become explosive news and make the front page of every newspaper."
Hearing this, the agent's bitter expression finally showed a hint of delight.
"A Kang, you really are clever. Looks like I was worrying for nothing..."
It was true that Zheng Haokang was a newly crowned boxing king and the champion of the KFC World Fighting Championship.
But in this entertainment-first, ordinary, vulgar world, no matter how great a boxing king's reputation was, his commercial value was actually only about equal to that of a second-tier star.
If he could ride on his current fame