Cultivating through increasing my stats in America-Chapter 64 - The Competition Begins

Chapter 64: Chapter 64 The Competition Begins

Chapter 64: Chapter 64 The Competition Begins

The clothes Eric was referring to were the sponsor-adorned outfit he wore for the race, or in layman’s terms, an advertisement shirt.

Li Ang opened the package, and there was nothing wrong with the clothes themselves—an azure Nike sportswear set. It was the printed words on it that caused Eric some embarrassment.

“Eric’s Furniture Factory.”

Actually, Li Ang didn’t feel much about it, since he had been exposed to the Chinese language for a longer time. Although he now possessed native-level English proficiency, English wasn’t his mother tongue, so he did not experience the embarrassment native speakers might feel.

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To him, without translating, it was just a string of English artistic script. This kind of thing was all too common in his homeland.

Translated, “furniture factory” was nothing special—a far cry from the foreign swear words and insults that people still liked to wear.

But for native speakers, seeing this shirt was akin to wearing a tee with “Twin Pig Feed” emblazoned on it.

…

Li Ang knew Sheila would come, but seeing her still waving to him from the chairman’s stand, he experienced a brief moment of confusion.

No seriously, what background did she have? How could she network everywhere she went?

But now wasn’t the time to think about that; the race was the priority.

During the preparation stage, Li Ang could feel the gazes from the people around him.

Not only from the audience but also from the other cyclists participating in the race.

However, this wasn’t because he was some celebrity. In fact, among the thousands present, probably fewer than ten people knew him.

The reason was that Asians were a rarity in this race and also because the advertisement shirt he wore was quite eye-catching, naturally drawing everyone’s attention.

“Am I seeing this right? Eric’s Furniture Factory, oh my, has this Asian gone mad with poverty?”

“I bet the sponsorship he received doesn’t exceed five hundred bucks.”

“I wonder what the sponsor was thinking. How did they even connect cycling with furniture?”

“Maybe he’s an internet celebrity, you know? He could be deliberately trying to attract attention.”

“Alright, we shouldn’t focus on such insignificant people. If we want to achieve results, we must keep our eyes on the front.”

There were also kind voices. Like the nearly forty-year-old uncle beside him, who even patted Li Ang on the shoulder, telling him not to be nervous and that just being able to participate was great.

…

It wasn’t just the cyclists nearby who noticed him. Qiaos from the Falcon Club, Li Ang’s fellow townsman, also took note of Li Ang.

“I never expected he would come too. I wonder if he now regrets not accepting the three hundred bucks from our club.”

Qiaos shook his head, scoffed, and then turned his attention to the seed players from their club.

Although the Falcon Club had a dominant position locally, it wasn’t as outstanding in a big city like Jacksonville.

Among the large clubs, it barely made the top ten, still a distance away from the top five.

This time, the most keenly observed group in the cycling circle were the competitors from Speed Club, who were prominent across America.

The cyclists who came to compete this time almost all had the ability to vie for the top five positions.

Like Holt, their standout young prodigy, he had achieved results in amateur races that many professional cyclists could not match.

And the only competitor who might outshine him in this race was probably Harry.

That guy was originally a professional cyclist on the national team’s B team, but he was kicked out due to ethical issues.

Though he hadn’t undergone professional training in the past two years and his skills might have slightly declined, he was still overwhelmingly superior to the amateur cyclists.

But Li Ang didn’t need to worry about going head to head with Harry, since he was in the youth category, while Harry was in the adult category.

The total distance of the race was a staggering one hundred and eighty kilometers, a true endurance test for amateur cyclists.

Anyone who could finish within six hours was considered to be among the quite capable.

The race was about to start, and as an “independent” competitor, Li Ang’s starting position was quite far back and densely packed with riders.

The distribution of the competitors was similar to a marathon, with the spacious front positions naturally occupied by seed players from the big clubs.

Though the Falcon Club wasn’t at the very front, their position was much better than Li Ang’s. At least they wouldn’t be interfered with by other cyclists after the start.

As the race began, the area where Li Ang was located also began to inch forward. At this stage, even if you wanted to speed up, it was downright impossible, and going fast carried the risk of a collision.

…

“Hey Old Eric, what’s this whole family of yours huddled around watching here?”

The speaker was Wally Dosari, an old friend of grandpa Eric’s who owned several Chinese restaurants. Living close to each other, the two often dropped by each other’s homes.

“If your eyes aren’t too old to see, you should be able to tell that we’re watching a bicycle race,” Old Eric responded with a glance.

Old Eric gave him a look before continuing to focus on the 98-inch TV in front of him.

By his side was his wife, son, daughter, grandson, and a large family of more than a dozen people.

All had heeded his call to come over and watch the race today.

Wally squinted at the television, and with a puzzled tone, asked:

“Since when did you start getting interested in bicycle races?”

Old Eric huffed and replied with a touch of pride,

“There’s plenty you don’t know about.”

“Wow, Grandpa, I saw our family’s ad! That’s Li Ang, he was my teammate in the last race!”

Little Eric suddenly perked up. He had wanted to join the race as well, but his mother had kept him home on the pretext that his sister had no one to accompany her.

“Ad?”

Wally leaned in closer, just managing in the last second before the camera panned away to see the jersey Li Ang was wearing.

“Hahaha, tell me, is this the reason you’re watching this race?” Wally erupted into laughter looking at Old Eric.

“And will you tell me how you thought of having a no-name young cyclist advertise for your family’s factory? In my opinion, that money would have been better spent replacing those old shoes of yours.”

“It wasn’t my idea; my grandson arranged it for me because he thought it would make me happy,” Old Eric said calmly, suddenly silencing Wally, who had just been laughing heartily.

“Damn it, you’ve got a good grandson, Old Eric, but don’t think for a second I’m going to be envious of you over this—it’s just not possible, absolutely impossible.”

Wally paced, mumbling through clenched teeth.

“Grandpa, look, Li Ang is so fast!” exclaimed Little Eric happily, while Wally picked up a call from his own grandson.

“What? You’ve run out of spending money? No money then drag your ass back here! If you don’t start working in the restaurant, you can forget about seeing another dime!”

On the TV screen, Li Ang finally began to break away from the back of the pack with continuous overtaking, now advancing towards the leading group.