chsdbacks Page 155
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His survival instinct made him twist his body forcefully, the boxing gloves grazing his skin, causing a burning pain.
Old Jack was pounding the ropes in the stands.
Viktor broke out in a cold sweat and quickly retreated to regroup.
When the two faced off again in the center of the boxing ring, Tony showed a serious expression for the first time—not anger, but the focus of a hunter who has found his prey worthy of serious attention.
The second round is called the battle of rhythm.
Tony began to demonstrate why he was called the "Rhythm Master," as every movement he made was perfectly timed to the beat of his heartbeat.
When Vic throws a jab, Tony always sides his body 0.1 seconds before the fist reaches its peak;
When the Victor duo attacked, Tony's clutch timing was so precise it was almost despairing.
He's stealing time!
Old Jack roared at Victor, "Disrupt his rhythm!"
Victor continued to push forward, suddenly exerting force and shoving Tony against the ropes.
This was the trump card devised before the competition—using the weight advantage to suppress the opponent.
Heavy punches rained down, and Tony's arm guards made dull thuds as they struck.
The audience all stood up, and their shouts were deafening.
Just as Victor was about to end the fight, Tony suddenly threw a tricky body punch from his defenses.
As Victor doubled over in pain, Tony's right hook landed squarely on his temple!
The world suddenly became quiet.
Chapter 131 The Frenzy Begins
Viktor felt himself slowly sinking underwater, and the referee's countdown sounded as if it came from a very far away place.
He knelt on one knee, his vision blurred as he saw Tony waiting in the neutral corner.
At the eighth second, he stood up, biting his braces, the taste of blood filling his mouth.
This is absolutely outrageous!
An ordinary boxer, yet his technique is so good, he can even defend and counterattack!
"Move! Don't let him get close!"
Old Jack's voice finally pierced through the fog.
Viktor pressed down on his tongue, and the sharp pain jolted him awake.
He realized that all of Tony's actions were based on prediction—the intuition that this genius had cultivated through hundreds of games, enabling him to anticipate every decision his opponent would make.
The only way to defeat him is through unpredictability.
As Tony closed in again, Victor made a move that completely defied common sense in boxing:
He abandoned his defense and moved forward to press his forehead against Tony's shoulder.
This isn't boxing; it's street fighting techniques!
Tony was clearly stunned, and the referee quickly stepped forward to separate the two.
But just as the referee stepped forward, Viktor instantly stepped back, causing them to separate. At that moment, Viktor threw a left uppercut without warning.
The boxing glove grazed Tony's chin, causing a stir in the arena!
Tony showed a look of shock for the first time, and his steps became unsteady for the first time.
"That's it!"
Old Jack was so excited he almost climbed onto the boxing ring. "He can't understand your wild punches!"
Viktor licked his cracked lips; the salty, metallic taste of blood suddenly tasted sweet.
He saw a glimmer of victory—not through skill, but through breaking all the rules, including fouls on the brink of elimination.
As the bell rang to signal the end of the second round, Victor and Tony exchanged a glance in the center of the ring, and an invisible spark seemed to fly through the air.
Neither of them looked away until the referee stepped forward and separated them.
Back in the corner, Viktor slumped heavily onto the stool, breathing rapidly.
Sweat streamed down the wound on his forehead, stinging his eyes.
"Old Jack, I can beat him!" (Wei)
Kto said, his voice hoarse from lack of oxygen, biting his braces.
Old Jack didn't say a word. He first poured a mouthful of water into Victor's mouth with the kettle, and then quickly wiped the sweat and blood off his face with a towel.
The elderly coach had sharp, eagle-like eyes and a furrowed brow.
"This was unexpected; he was even stronger than the videos we studied."
Old Jack whispered, "I think his skill level is even higher than Holyfield's. To win, you have to give him something unpredictable!"
Viktor felt a sharp pain as old Jack plunged an adrenaline syringe into his shoulder.
This was not a violation of regulations, but a pre-competition medical procedure to relieve asthma symptoms caused by strenuous exercise—yes, Victor also suffers from asthma in the United States.
Forget combinations, forget rhythm, fight primitive boxing!
Old Jack leaned close to Victor's ear and said, "Isn't he a tech guy? Then let's use brute force to destroy his program!"
As the ice pack pressed against his temples, Victor glanced toward the opposite corner.
Tony was tilting his head back to receive a neck massage, while his coach gestured excitedly.
Victor suddenly noticed that Tony's breathing had become rapid for the first time, and his chest was heaving noticeably faster, far from the composed pace of the previous two rounds.
"He's tired,"
Victor muttered to himself, "202 pounds isn't enough to sustain a long-term war of attrition."
This discovery is more exciting than any adrenaline.
Viktor recalled the information he had studied before the fight: Tony had won his last three fights by knockout in the middle of the game and hadn't fought a second-half game in two whole years.
He himself had just fought a marathon battle of fifteen rounds last year!
When the bell rang in the third round, the way Victor stood up stunned even old Jack – it wasn't the way a boxer stands, but the explosive start of a bull charging towards the red cloth.
Tony was still trying to control the pace, but Victor began to move erratically:
Sometimes they launch a sudden three-hit attack, sometimes they roam for extended periods;
Sometimes they abandon defense and launch a full-scale attack, and sometimes they adopt a completely defensive strategy.
On one occasion, he even imitated Tony's butterfly walk, clumsy but unexpected, which made the audience laugh—but Tony didn't laugh.
"Are you insulting me?"
When Tony spoke for the first time, his voice was as cold as ice.
Viktor did not answer, but continued with his unconventional tactics.
He knew he had angered his opponent, which was exactly what he wanted.
In one encounter, Viktor deliberately exposed an opening in his abdomen.
Tony struck with lightning speed, and just as his body punch was about to land, Victor suddenly twisted his body and used his hard elbow to take the blow.
The dull thud of the boxing gloves striking the elbows was enough to make your teeth ache!
Tony cried out in pain for the first time, his right gauntlet visibly deformed—likely due to a metacarpal injury.
The referee quickly stepped forward to check, and Tony reluctantly nodded to indicate that he could continue, but fine beads of sweat had already seeped from his forehead.
Viktor gave them no chance to breathe, launching a full-scale, storm-like attack.
Tony is no longer elegant and composed; his dodging has become sluggish, and his counterattacks have lost their edge.
When Victor's powerful punch finally tore through Tony's defenses and landed squarely on his chin, the entire arena erupted!
Tony staggered backward, his eyes glazed over for the first time.
Viktor smelled blood. He remembered the scene of wolves hunting on the grassland. Now he was that hungry wolf.
But what makes a champion a champion is their resilience in the face of adversity.
Just as Victor was about to end the match, Tony suddenly unleashed a perfect counter-attack triple strike—although the power was not what it used to be, it still made Victor lose a few hairs.
The two engaged in a brutal battle in the center of the boxing ring, a clash of pure willpower with no regard for technique.
When the bell rang to end the third round, they were still throwing punches at each other, and the referee had to forcibly separate them.
Back in the corner, Viktor's vision was blurred by blood.
Old Jack used Vaseline to stop the bleeding on his brow bone: "His right hand is injured, attack his right side! But don't make it too obvious, watch out for his traps."
On Tony's side, the team doctor was urgently examining his right hand, and the coach's face was grim.
Even from a distance, Victor could see that Tony's right hand was swollen.
"His resilience and reaction time are truly legendary!"
Viktor was secretly alarmed and put away his last trace of contempt.
He originally thought that elbow strike would be enough to cripple Tony's right hand, but it was clear that his opponent's endurance was beyond imagination.
At the start of the fourth round, Viktor made adjustments.
He no longer pursued single heavy blows, but began to use a denser barrage of straight punches to control distance, pressuring Tony's space to move, while also being careful to protect his abdomen.
His heavy punches began to be used as finishing moves in combinations, rather than starting moves.
Tony's skills remain superb. Even with his right hand injured, he can still deliver precise blows with his left fist. His footwork is still agile, but he has lost some of his former sharpness.
The match became a stalemate, with Tony's technique and Victor's strength and physique forming a delicate balance. The audience was captivated, witnessing a spectacular collision of power aesthetics and technical wisdom.
In the middle of the fourth round, the turning point finally appeared.
After a successful dive and dodge, Tony instinctively tried to close in and strike the victim in the abdomen.
But this time, Victor didn't retreat. Instead, he anticipated Tony's move, took a small step back, and threw a fierce right uppercut at the same time, meeting Tony's upward trajectory head-on!