Ryoma can see the punches coming, his sharp eyes tracking every fist. But his body isn't ready. His legs drag, slow to react, still dulled from the knockdown.
He can't slip, can't counter. All he can do is lift his guard higher and higher, catching Serrano's storm on his arms.
Each shot rattles through him. And the crowd rises with every blow.
"Ryoma! Fight back! Don't just take it!"
"No… Just hold the guard! Stay tight and survive the round!"
But gradually, Ryoma's heels inch back, one step after another. His guard shakes under the barrage and constant pressure.
And Serrano's grin widens as he keeps hammering Ryoma from both sides, fists pounding like a drum.
Bam! Thud! Thud! Bam! Thud!
Eventually, Ryoma's back kisses the ropes.
Pinned, smothered, gloves trembling under the relentless barrage, he feels the ring close in around him.
