Isekai in Hajime no Ippo with Gaolang’s Template

Alex Makunouchi stepped into the backstage area, his gloves now removed, his body still buzzing with adrenaline from his dominant performance. Coach Kamogawa, Coach Shinoda, and Assistant Coach Yagi followed behind him, their expressions a mixture of pride and exhaustion.

Coach Kamogawa let out a breath, patting the front of his shirt—only to grimace as he noticed the dark stain spreading across it. Someone from the stands had thrown a full cup of Coke into the ring during the post-fight chaos.

"That was intense," Kamogawa muttered, trying to shake off the sticky liquid clinging to his clothes.

Alex, wiping sweat from his face with a towel, let out a chuckle. "It was quite fun, to be honest."

Just as they were settling in, a commotion erupted outside the door. The muffled sound of arguing could be heard as security struggled to contain the disturbance.

Yagi furrowed his brows. "I'll check it out," he said, making his way to the entrance.

Outside the Backstage DoorAoki was standing in front of the security guards, his hands gesturing toward himself.

"I'm their teammate!" he insisted, pointing at his chest.

The security guard stared at him blankly, unimpressed.

Kimura leaned over, sighing. "He doesn't understand you."

Then, in a move that only made things worse, Takamura stepped forward and, in broken English, pointed at the door. "I… am… I am!"

The guard raised an eyebrow, looking increasingly puzzled.

Before the situation could escalate further, the door swung open. Yagi peered out, blinking in surprise.

"You're here? I thought you were still watching."

The guard observed their interaction, finally realizing they weren't intruders. With a reluctant nod, he stepped aside, allowing them through.

Ippo, Takamura, Aoki, and Kimura entered, their faces still carrying the energy from the chaotic aftermath of the fight.

As soon as Takamura stepped in, his eyes landed on Alex—who was covered in stains. Sweat mixed with smudges of chocolate, Coke splashes, and even bits of popcorn.

Takamura burst out laughing. "That was insane, what you did out there!" He patted Alex on the shoulder—then immediately grimaced as his hand came away sticky. "Oh, what the hell?!"

Looking around for a solution, Takamura wiped his hand on Aoki's shirt.

"Hey! Cut it out! That's disgusting!" Aoki yelped, swatting at him.

As the two started bickering, Ippo turned to Alex, his eyes filled with excitement. "That was… an experience. You should have seen it from our perspective. People were booing like crazy, and then chaos just broke out in the stands."

Kimura smirked. "So, how does it feel to be public enemy number one in the U.S.?"

Alex, still drying himself off, grinned. "It was fun, hahaha! I'd do it again if I get the chance."

Hearing that, Kamogawa, Shinoda, and Yagi all let out a synchronized sigh and placed their hands on their heads.

ESPN Broadcast – Ringside POVThe ESPN commentators, John and Calvin, were still in shock, staring at the monitor. The ring was littered with trash—cups, food wrappers, half-eaten hot dogs, and soda bottles. Staff members were scrambling to clean it all up.

John chuckled, shaking his head. "The next fight is going to be suspended at this rate."

Calvin, still stunned, muttered, "They can clean it up in maybe… 20 minutes."

John laughed. "Damn, look at the audience. They came here to support Mitchell… and now? They look completely crushed."

The camera zoomed in on the crowd—

some angry,some disappointed, others simply staring in shock.

Then, as if sensing an opportunity, the cameraman got playful.

He zoomed in sneakily on Calvin's face—catching his bitter frown on live television.

After a second, Calvin adjusted his expression,coughing awkwardly.

"Well," he said stiffly, "Alex has definitely established himself as the number one public enemy of the U.S. boxing community."

Japan POV – 2:20 AMBack in Japan, despite the late hour, the country was wide awake.

News stations exploded with headlines featuring images of Alex's brutal destruction of Mitchell.

Inside a brightly lit studio, a boxing analysis show was live.

A middle-aged man with short white hair, Isamu,was grinning as he spoke into the microphone.

"I told you! Alex is the real deal! He's on another level!"

His co-host, Ayumi, a beautiful woman in her 30s, nodded enthusiastically. "He didn't just win. He showed the entire world that he's the future of boxing!"

She paused for a moment before adding with a slight blush, "And the way he went in there… taunted the whole crowd… it was kinda hot."

Isamu coughed, raising an eyebrow at her.

Realizing what she had just said, Ayumi quickly cleared her throat and adjusted her expression.

On the streets of Tokyo, reporters interviewed people who had stayed awake to watch the fight.

A small, family-owned restaurant remained open, with customers still buzzing with excitement.

A cameraman approached the owner, a middle-aged man, and asked, "Are you still open because of Alex's fight?"

The owner grinned proudly. "Of course! And it was worth it! Alex didn't disappoint at all!"

Similar scenes unfolded across multiple locations in Japan—excited fans discussing Alex's performance, replays playing on TV screens, and people celebrating with drinks and food.

Back at the Makunouchi house, Mari and Aunt Hiroko were seated at the dining table, eating cake.

A small, celebratory treat for Alex's big win.

Mari, still smiling, picked at her cake with a fork. "He really did it, huh?"

Hiroko nodded, sipping her tea. "He did."

There was pride in her voice.

Despite Evander Holyfield's heavyweight title defense against Bert Cooper being the next fight on the card, Alex and the rest of the team had no interest in staying. They had come for one thing—Alex's fight—and now that it was over, they were ready to leave.

As they exited the backstage area, Alex caught glimpses of some disgruntled American boxing fans still muttering insults under their breath. He grinned, amused at how much of a reaction he had provoked.

Security escorted them through a private exit,keeping them away from the still-hostile crowd.

"What a waste," Takamura scoffed, stretching his arms. "We should've stayed and watched Holyfield fight. But whatever, let's get out of here."

Aoki shrugged. "We can catch the replay later. Right now, all I want is to lie down and relax."

Kimura agreed. "Yeah, let's head back to the hotel."

The team arrived at their luxurious Las Vegas hotel, an extravagant high-rise overlooking the Strip. The moment they stepped into the lobby, the receptionist immediately recognized them.

Her gaze briefly flickered toward Alex, still bearing remnants of soda stains and chocolate smudges.

But instead of reacting, she simply smiled politelyand nodded. "Welcome back, gentlemen."

As she handed them their key cards, Aoki leaned toward Alex and whispered, "Man, luckily she didn't judge you."

Kimura overheard and chuckled. "Of course not, she's a professional."

With that, they made their way toward the elevator.

As they stepped into the penthouse suite, the sight that greeted them was nothing short of perfection. The staff had done an incredible job—every surface gleamed, the carpets were freshly vacuumed, and there wasn't a single speck of dust in sight.

Coach Kamogawa crossed his arms, nodding in approval. "They really did their best to clean this place up."

Curious, Aoki rubbed his finger along the marble floor. "Damn… it's super clean, too."

Ippo, completely exhausted from the day's events, collapsed onto the plush sofa. "Ahh… I don't want to move for the next ten hours."

Takamura stretched and cracked his knuckles. "You guys rest up. I'll be back in a bit—I need to buy something."

Coach Kamogawa waved him off. "Let him enjoy himself. We should rest while we can."

Everyone took the opportunity to change into comfortable clothes. Alex headed straight for the shower, letting the warm water wash away the sticky mess from earlier. In their respective rooms, Kamogawa, Shinoda, and Yagi did the same, each taking their time freshening up.

Twenty minutes later, they had all changed into fresh clothes, feeling rejuvenated.

Just as they were settling down, the penthouse door swung open.

Takamura marched in, carrying several bags in his arms. He grinned proudly as he dumped them onto the table.

Inside were bottles of whiskey and vodka, along with an assortment of junk food.

"THIS," he declared, hands on his hips, "is how you celebrate!"

Aoki raised an eyebrow as he picked up one of the vodka bottles. "Man… you really went all out, huh?"

Kimura uncapped a bottle and took a whiff—his nose wrinkled instantly. "Whoa! This is some strong stuff!" He shook his head, laughing.

Takamura, still buzzing with excitement, burst out laughing. "Of course! I've been winning big at the casino!"

Grinning like a madman, he reached into another bag and pulled out thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

"Look at this!" He held up the cash proudly before tossing another bag onto the table—this one also stuffed with money.

Ippo's eyes widened. "W-Wow… that's a lot!"

Curious, he picked up one of the stacks, but Takamura immediately swatted his hand away."HEY! It's mine!"

The commotion caught Kamogawa's attention. The old coach turned, rubbing his temples. "It's still 10 AM. Why do you want to get that drunk this early?"

Alex, grinning, threw an arm around Kamogawa's shoulder. "Now that's the way to celebrate! Let's take this party up a notch—how about the pool on the 50th floor?"

The others perked up at the idea.

Alex then turned to Assistant Coach Yagi. "Yagi-san, could you call the receptionist and ask them to clear the pool area for us?"

Yagi nodded, already dialing. "Yeah, I'll get it done now."

As they waited, Kimura stared at Takamura's bag full of money. "My estimate? That's about 100K in cash."

Coach Shinoda smirked, shaking his head. "You're bragging to the wrong person."

That caught Ippo and Takamura's attention. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Shinoda chuckled. "Because Alex alone made 1.5 million dollars from tonight's fight."

Both Ippo and Takamura turned to Alex, stunned.

Ippo blinked. "But… you made 2 million when you won the title in Japan, right?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, but it's less this time because of the fight percentage—and I wasn't the main event. But don't worry, I'll be making more in the long run."

Aoki groaned dramatically, leaning back. "Let's stop talking about money… I feel so broke right now."

That broke the tension, and they all burst into laughter.

Just then, Yagi finished his call. "Alright, the pool is all ours."

The 50th Floor The elevator doors opened to reveal the rooftop pool area.

The view was breathtaking. The Las Vegas skyline stretched out before them, skyscrapers gleaming under the sunlight. The massive infinity pool shimmered, the water reflecting the city below.

Takamura immediately set the drinks down on a poolside table.

"Alright, boys! Let's drink up!"

One by one, they grabbed their bottles, popping them open.

And just like that, the celebration began.

They laughed, drank, and joked around,completely losing themselves in the moment. For once, there was no pressure, no training—just pure fun.

As time passed, the drinks kept flowing.

By the time they stumbled back into the penthouse, they were completely wasted.

Takamura collapsed onto the couch, mumbling incoherently. Aoki and Kimura leaned against each other, laughing at something neither of them could remember.

Alex plopped onto a chair, grinning lazily. Ippo, his face red from the drinks, lay sprawled out on the floor, snoring softly.