The next day, Jason Luo arrived at the venue with Raul and Brown.
Brown, finally able to coach Jason Luo in person, looked excited.
Jason Luo, on the other hand, felt a hollow emptiness inside. Without Pedro by his side, he was unsettled and uneasy...
As usual, Raul went to gather information on their opponent while Jason Luo and Brown prepared.
"Jason, listen," Brown said firmly. "Don't overthink it. You can't step into the ring carrying a heavy burden. Clear your mind—that's the only way to fight at your best."
Jason Luo hesitated. "Mr. Brown... be honest with me. Coach—did his health really take a turn for the worse?"
"Well..." Brown's expression tightened. "It's not too serious. But Sonny helped arrange for him to see a medical professor, an expert in this field. So the old devil went for a check-up, to see if there's a better way to manage it."
"Really?" Jason Luo's eyes lit up with relief.
As he began wrapping Jason Luo's hands, Brown continued, "Jason, you're 19 now. It's time you learned to face reality. Specialists handle medical issues—Pedro's health is in the hands of doctors. As his last disciple, your responsibility is to win this fight for him. That's the best way you can show him you care. Think about it—if he's not here and we lose such a critical match, how would that feel?"
"On the flip side, if we keep winning—you know how powerful morale can be—when the old devil hears the good news, he might be back in no time to kick your ass again!"
Jason Luo realized he was worrying needlessly. Mr. Brown was right—winning the fight was the only thing he could do for his coach now.
At that moment, Raul came running back, drenched in sweat. "Quick, grab the file—it's Royerson!"
Jason Luo hurried to sift through the remaining profiles. With only 64 fighters left, it didn't take long to find it.
Royerson—22 years old, from Colorado. Height: 180 cm. Reach: 182 cm. Weight: 76.6 kg.
A well-rounded fighter, strong both at range and in close quarters, with solid rear-hand power. He held a 21–2 amateur record, with 14 wins by knockout.
In this tournament: undefeated in three qualifying matches, undefeated in five points matches, with 19 points in total, ranked 113th overall.
As Coach Pedro had said, by this stage there were no weak opponents left. Just avoiding the top five was lucky enough.
After studying the profile, Brown asked, "Royerson's versatile—effective both inside and outside. How do you plan to deal with him?"
Jason Luo thought carefully. "I still want to fight him up close. If we rely on pure technique, I doubt I'll have the advantage."
Brown nodded. "That's the right read. But you must be wary of his rear heavy punch. And remember—last match, you fought with passion and ferocity. But this opponent is different. I need you to stay calm this time."
"And what if he refuses to fight inside? If he stays at range, under the threat of that heavy punch, you'll find it tough to close the distance. Then what?"
Jason Luo frowned, stumped. "That's... true."
Right—the opponent wasn't stupid. If he lost exchanges in close combat, he'd surely back off and outbox him. If Jason couldn't get inside, it'd be a huge problem.
Brown smiled. "Don't panic. I've already prepared a strategy for this scenario. This time, we're going to play a psychological game."
"Psychological warfare?" Jason Luo blinked, confused.
"At this stage, opponents have your stats. You've got 15 wins, 14 by knockout. He'll definitely label you as an Aggressive Fighter. That means from the opening bell, Royerson will be focused on shutting down your inside game."
"So we'll do the opposite. From the start, I want you to use the front-hand punches we've drilled. Rack up points quickly. Take the initiative."
Jason Luo's eyes lit up. "I get it—if I build a lead, he'll have to come after me!"
"Exactly. Once you're ahead on points, if he doesn't attack, you can just keep him at bay. But if he launches a full counteroffensive—that's your chance to strike."
Jason Luo grinned. "When he charges, I charge. Get inside and fight him there! Ha, Mr. Brown, you're brilliant!"
"Hmph! You're just slow, that's all. Boxing takes brains as much as fists—remember that."
With this unique strategy, Jason Luo's confidence grew, and his mood eased considerably.
Brown reminded him once more, "The key is to build a decisive points lead before he catches on. So in the first round, don't hold back. Go all out, confuse him, and take control."
As he repeated the instructions, the time to fight arrived. Just before Jason Luo stepped out, Brown shouted, "For the old devil—go get him!"
Jason Luo nodded firmly.
...
Wollers reappeared as the announcer. "Ladies and gentlemen, the red-hot knockout stage has reached the fourth round! In the ring, from Colorado, we have Royerson, facing Chicago's own Jason Luo! This kid is truly a dark horse—first he shocked everyone by toppling the Madman, Gossagen, and now he's fought his way into the fourth round. No easy feat! Let's see if he can keep advancing. The referee has finished the checks—let the match begin!"
"Hm? Jason is attacking right from the start! But wait—he's switched to a front-hand punch style? That must have Royerson caught off guard! What sharp execution—Jason clearly had this hidden in reserve. Those front-hand combinations look solid: jab-to-cross, rapid-fire jabs flowing into hooks..."
In the ring, Royerson was rattled. He'd braced for Jason Luo's charges and feared his rear heavy punch. But Jason Luo wasn't rushing in or throwing power shots—instead, he kept attacking with steady front-hand punches, strikes that weren't very threatening on their own.
At first, Royerson dismissed it, assuming Jason was disguising a charge. But as the pattern continued, realization dawned...
Damn!
The kid wasn't setting up anything—he was piling up points!
This was bad. The advantage of a technical fighter lies in controlling the score. As long as he could shut out an Aggressive Fighter at close range, he'd win from distance.
But now the roles had flipped—forcing him, a semi-technical fighter, to chase down a brawler. His advantage evaporated in an instant.
Analyzing the situation, Royerson felt a chill spread in his chest and a bitter taste rise in his mouth.
Damn that kid—what a dirty trick!
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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