Wuriqiu suddenly shifted into a strange stance, and Jason Luo didn't dare underestimate it. Maybe it was a fake takedown, but since he did it, there had to be a reason.
Jason avoided a frontal attack and circled, but to his surprise, Wuriqiu moved with startling agility in that odd posture. No matter how Jason maneuvered, Wuriqiu adjusted instantly to face him.
Leaning forward also gave Wuriqiu's hooks greater reach. Each time Jason tried to close in, he was forced to retreat in a hurry.
The fight felt awkward and uncomfortable for Jason. In an amateur tournament, the referee allowed it, but in Olympic boxing, such tactics wouldn't fly.
Seeing Jason pause, Wuriqiu suddenly straightened up, exploding upward with core strength and launching a massive uppercut-style hook. Jason didn't dare block it head-on and dodged quickly.
"Oh! The heavy puncher Jason Luo has gone quiet against a powerhouse like Wuriqiu. He's being forced to run all around the ring! Haha, but honestly, who could blame him? Wuriqiu's physical strength is incredible. His punches may lack polish, but they're dangerous. Jason's prospects here don't look good..."
In the ring, Jason really was on the back foot. What worried him most wasn't the punches—it was the clinch. If Wuriqiu tied him up, Jason would lose badly in a raw Strength contest. That was why he kept retreating.
But endless retreat wasn't a solution. The referee would eventually step in. Jason decided to show some offense, at least to prove he wasn't just running.
He slipped under a hook and hammered two punches into Wuriqiu's ribs. The fat around them just rippled, as if nothing had happened.
Jason froze. A sudden gust brushed his ear. Instinct made him duck just as a hook swept over his head. Startled, he tried to retreat, but Wuriqiu pressed in, shoving him toward the corner ropes!
Not good!
If he was trapped, there'd be no room to move.
In desperation, Jason unleashed a fierce counterattack. But Wuriqiu still shoved forward, only making minor adjustments to avoid some punches.
As the corner closed in, Jason quickly activated his Title. Wuriqiu sensed a shift—the fierce glare in Jason's eyes startled him, and his movement faltered. Jason seized the moment to slip free.
Too close!
If he'd been cornered, he'd have had no room to dodge, reduced to a slugfest he didn't want.
So far, the fight wasn't exciting; it looked awkward, even comical. The crowd laughed and chatted casually, unaware of Jason's real struggle.
This opponent was tougher than Gossagen—more dangerous, too. Wuriqiu didn't punch often, but one clean hit could be devastating.
Jason thought hard. The man's body was too thick and tough. Normal punches were almost useless. He'd have to target vital points. If even those didn't work, it would be a disaster.
Wuriqiu's failed attempt to trap him didn't discourage him. He lunged again. Jason stayed cautious, dodging left and right, waiting for an opening.
To pin him down, Wuriqiu unleashed a series of hooks. Jason feinted, baiting out the left hook, then ducked and stepped inside, slipping to his left side and driving a heavy punch at his temple. He'd been saving that move, and it was fast.
Wuriqiu ducked quickly. No matter how tough he was, he had to guard the temple. But Jason's punch was too quick. It still landed, though a little off-target.
Even so, Wuriqiu's expression changed. Rage flared, his grin gone. He lowered his head and charged like a missile, swinging a hook with surprising speed.
Jason dodged the charge but couldn't avoid the punch. He braced with both arms.
Thud!
The impact sent him staggering sideways, his arms trembling from the sheer force.
Before he could regain balance, Wuriqiu attacked again—same move, but this time a left hook.
Jason cursed inwardly. If he got rammed, he'd be trapped and driven into the corner. If he dodged, he'd eat the punch. Both options were brutal.
He chose to absorb the punch. But that just turned him into a ragdoll, swaying helplessly as Wuriqiu pounded away.
Then the bell rang, saving him. Jason exhaled hard in relief.
Back in his corner, Jason puzzled over why Wuriqiu's hooks had suddenly sped up.
Brown had seen it clearly. "It's his hips. He's swinging his torso to add speed. He knows his Punch Speed is too slow, so he's forcing it with body movement."
Jason understood instantly. No wonder the speed varied so much.
Brown's tone grew grim. "You can't keep dodging. One mistake, and he'll trap you against the ropes. Then you'll be in real trouble."
Jason knew, but attacking meant closing the distance. That was risky.
Brown thought for a moment. "He's a wrestler. Standing still, his balance is solid. But when he lunges, his weight shifts forward. That's when he's unstable. If you break his balance then, you might land a heavy shot to a vital spot."
Jason considered it. Not easy, but at least it was a plan.
Brown added, "Forget his chest and ribs. Wrestlers train those hard. Aim for his head."
"Got it."
Round two began. Wuriqiu charged again. This time Jason was ready. He dodged the other way and slammed heavy punches at Wuriqiu's head, trying to shake his balance.
But Jason's Strength wasn't enough. Two clean shots only made Wuriqiu wobble before steadying himself.
That made Wuriqiu wary. He switched tactics. After a few sloppy jabs, he threw a diagonal hook. Jason slipped past—only for a swing punch to follow.
What?
He was fighting a straight boxing exchange now?
Jason welcomed it. He sharpened his dodges and counterattacks. In this setup, Wuriqiu's clumsy technique and slow Punch Speed gave him no edge.
But Wuriqiu refused to retreat. Jason's punches weren't hurting him much, but Jason didn't understand why he'd commit to such a fight.
No matter. Jason searched for an opening.
Then it came. Wuriqiu's left fist hadn't retracted yet when his right swung wide. Perfect! Jason ducked, ready to slip inside and hammer an uppercut to the chin—the weak spot no amount of Toughness could protect.
But as he moved, he caught the cruel smile on Wuriqiu's face.
Damn—it was a trap!
Too late.
The wide swing had been a feint. Wuriqiu had studied Jason's habit of slipping in on hooks and baited him deliberately.
As Jason ducked, a blur smashed into him. A hook cracked against his head. Blood spurted from his nose, his mouthguard flew out, and he stumbled back into the ropes after seven or eight steps.
He didn't fall, but stars filled his vision. His ears rang, his mouth was dry, his heart hammered wildly. The pain was unbearable.
The canvas shook—Wuriqiu was closing in. Jason couldn't see him. Instinct made him cover up.
But Wuriqiu's hook slammed into his body, nearly making him retch. Then a swing crashed into his jaw. Jason's world went black as he collapsed on the canvas.
...