His Vision Grid lights up, tiny markers tracing Serrano's flaws, flashes of opening in his guard. And for the first time, Ryoma moves to strike.
He slips under a punch and whips a left hook across Serrano's ribs.
Dug.
Serrano winces but doesn't slow down. He twists his torso, loading up a right.
Ryoma sees the irritation in his face. He straightens from his lowered stance, lifting his head just a little, enough to look open, enough to invite the next punch.
The right hook comes fast, sharp and violent. But to Ryoma, it looks slow. He ducks under it cleanly, slides right, and fires a short left into Serrano's body.
Dug!
Serrano bites down, holding his breath, and answers with a chopping right.
Ryoma leans in, catches the forearm with his glove, and snaps a compact uppercut from below.
Dsh!
Serrano's head jerks up.
And Ryoma follows through instantly, two more hooks, one sinking into the ribs, the next cracking against the side of his skull.
