"Royerson, desperate to close the point gap, goes head-to-head with the kid. By doing so, he gave up his technical edge—but clearly, he had no choice."
"But going blow-for-blow against Jason, who excels in close range, is tough. Even though Royerson did well... it's not enough. He's retreating... Oh! NO! My God, he just threw a huge looping backfist! The Wonder Kid nearly got caught. Unbelievable luck!"
The entire crowd gasped. The match had nearly turned on that one punch—it was breathtaking.
Brown and Raul hadn't even had time to shout a warning. Raul was so shocked he closed his eyes.
Too close.
Jason Luo felt like he'd cheated death, breathing heavily and not daring to approach Royerson right away.
Royerson, his killer punch wasted, was drained. That move had eaten up everything he had. Missing it left him in total despair.
Now that Jason was alert, the same trick wouldn't work. And with no stamina left, what could he use?
But surrender? Never. Royerson had never quit and never would.
Knowing Jason wouldn't attack, he summoned his last ounce of strength and charged again.
But this time, completely exhausted, he was no match. Within a few exchanges, Jason landed several punches, sending him stumbling back.
Jason could see it clearly—Royerson's punches had lost their force, barely threatening anymore. Yet he still swung. In that moment, even Jason admired him. This was a true fighter.
Royerson felt his strength failing. A pang of sorrow struck him. Was this really defeat?
No!
One last try. I won't surrender!
Dodging a punch, he planted his feet, twisted his waist, and spun for another backfist. His final gamble!
But his stamina failed him. His rotation lacked power. He spun halfway and collapsed to the canvas, all by himself.
Rules were simple: once you hit the floor, it was a knockdown—even if you fell on your own.
The referee began the count. "One, two..."
Royerson hadn't been hit, so he could still rise. But he was clearly done. His legs shook, his body wobbled. The referee asked twice, "Are you sure you want to continue?"
Royerson bit down hard. "Yes! I want to continue!"
But his coach had seen enough. A white towel sailed into the ring—surrender!
Royerson's face flushed red, but there was no choice. His coach was right—there was no point in pushing on.
With that, Jason Luo finally relaxed. Continuing would have ruined the spirit of the fight. Royerson was a worthy opponent. Jason stepped forward, hugged him, and whispered, "You're a true fighter. You have my respect."
Royerson was upset, though Jason's words eased it slightly. He gritted out, "At least in my heart, I don't admit I lost to you."
Jason smiled faintly. "Maybe we'll meet again. I'll be waiting."
The match ended early with a forfeit. The referee announced Jason Luo the winner.
Jason jumped up, shouting to Brown, "Call the coach—quick! We won!"
Once again, it proved: no matter how strong the opponent, with the right approach, victory was possible. Had Jason failed to seize the initiative, this fight would have been brutal.
But with a relatively smooth win, the three of them went wild with joy. Just one step away from the Top 16—one step! The feeling was unreal.
The system notification came in: his Greedy Wolf Talent had granted six Attribute points—one each to Coordination, Boxing Technique, Cross Power, and Toughness, and two to Front-Hand Power. Fortunately, Royerson's Front-Hand Punch hadn't been effective this time.
Back in the locker room, they couldn't wait to share the news. Raul called, "Old Pedro, we did it! Jason finished him in the second round. We really have a shot at the Top 16, ha ha... It feels like a dream... What? Oh, Jason's right here. I'll put him on."
Jason took the phone, listening quietly. His coach's voice came weakly, "Good boy, I knew you'd fight hard. Cough... Keep going. I'll try to come back soon—hopefully in time for your Top 16 match. Listen, this next fight is crucial for your boxing career. Don't let it slip away. I'll be waiting for good news..."
"Coach, take care of yourself. I... I promised I'd risk everything to win you that Gold Belt. Please, don't..." Jason's voice cracked.
"Silly kid, it's fine. I'm not meeting God yet. Remember, I gave you three years—we haven't even hit half a year. I've never broken a promise. Ahem..."
Brown gently took the phone. "Old devil, focus on healing. I'll take care of this. I'll get him into the Top 16—or I'll retire from boxing. You don't know—this kid gets sharper every match. He's real talent. You'll see when you're back."
"That's good... that's good..."
After a few more words, Pedro hung up, satisfied.
Only then did they notice their phones had been ringing nonstop. They hurried to answer the congratulatory calls.
Jason picked up his, seeing Tannika's name flashing. He answered. She snapped, "Finally! I've been calling forever!"
Jason frowned slightly. "Sorry, I had something important."
"Really? I came all this way to cheer you on, and you don't even thank me? Your fight's over, right? How about a drink to relax?"
Jason's frown deepened. "Sorry, Tannika. Boxers don't drink."
"Oh, then at least go shopping with me."
"I'm afraid I'll disappoint you. I've got an extremely important match coming. Every minute counts. I need to focus on training."
"Ugh! It's just some amateur boxing match! What's the big deal? I only asked for one afternoon. You're making it sound so serious."
Jason suddenly felt fed up. "Sorry, maybe amateur boxing means nothing to you. But to me, it's my life. Tannika, we live in different worlds. You have your joys, I have my fight. Let's not contact each other anymore. I wish you happiness."
He hung up decisively.
Tannika froze. This guy—who looked like he had zero experience with women—had just flat-out rejected her?
Furious, she hurled her phone.
What a humiliation!
She stared at the ring, baffled. How could some amateur boxing match possibly mean more than her beauty?
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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