After several failed attempts, Silvaliev changed tactics, circling toward Jason Luo's injured left eye to exploit the weakness.
This time, Jason Luo was truly furious. How could this clumsy bear of a man be so devious?
The bleeding from his bandaged left eye had already stopped, so it wasn't really affecting him anymore. But seeing the Russian trying to take advantage of it so shamelessly, Jason Luo finally cut loose. Heavy punches didn't pose much danger to him, but using them to vent his anger felt great...
Jason Luo went all out, unleashing a storm of combination punches. Silvaliev could absorb blows to the head, but his midsection couldn't handle them. Jason Luo's rear heavy punch hammered into his ribs with loud thuds. Though Silvaliev's thick belly fat gave him some cushioning, Jason Luo's power drove him stumbling backward, his feet scraping through the sand and leaving small pits behind...
Following Brown's guidance, Jason Luo tried to lock his fist upon impact, letting more force penetrate Silvaliev's body. But whether it was because the Russian's skin was too thick or his own technique was off, Silvaliev showed no reaction to the barrage.
Of course, Silvaliev wasn't just going to stand there and take it. But with his slower Punch Speed, his counters always came too late. Frustrated, he tried to clinch Jason Luo, forcing close-range combat.
But Jason Luo had had enough of the man's stench. No way was he letting him get close.
He stepped back quickly, throwing everything he had to keep Silvaliev away. Even if it drained his Stamina, he refused to endure that smell again...
"Good! That's the way!"
A spectator shouted from ringside.
Pedro nodded. "Looks like this kid really has improved under your side. His explosiveness is better, and he's fighting smart. In this situation, if he lets his opponent clinch, it's not just about heavy punches. Even body contact could reopen his wound. The referee won't keep stopping the fight for treatment—he could lose by injury."
Brown's smile returned. "That's just part of it. Today I've also seen how strong his willpower is. I've never quite figured out how to cultivate that in training. When there's time, Old Pedro, I'd like to learn from you."
"Uh… well, sure, sure. I think Silvaliev's out of tricks. If it keeps going like this, this round looks promising." Pedro quickly changed the subject.
"Not promising—it's certain! Silvaliev's conditioning is good, but his lack of height and reach really limits him. Otherwise, he might have some potential."
...
The second round ended. Jason Luo was completely winded, gasping for air, barely able to speak.
"Jason, don't fight so hard. You've already built a huge lead on points. Just control the pace and defend against his rushes—you've got this round won!"
"No… can't! I need to vent. That bastard… messed up my face. I'm not letting him off easy." Jason Luo growled between gasps.
"Hey, relax. It's just a small cut on your brow. With modern stitches, it won't even scar. And your eyebrow will cover it anyway—no need to worry." Raul reassured him.
Pedro chuckled. "Look at you, panting like that, still talking about revenge? Careful—he might still be standing when you drop! Save some energy. If your Stamina runs low, your dodges will break down. If he catches you, you'll be in trouble."
Jason Luo wanted to explain that he hadn't meant to fight so wildly, but with that stinking man charging into him nonstop, what else could he do? Still, that wasn't something to say in front of Westerners.
"Alright, coach. I know what I'm doing."
"Good. Raul, give him more hemostatic ointment. This kid's vain—we don't want to leave him with a scar…"
...
By the third round, the fight had lost all suspense. Silvaliev had no way to counter Jason Luo and could only take punishment.
Finally, just before the round ended, the referee lost patience and stopped the fight. Declaring the skill gap too wide, he awarded Jason Luo victory by TKO!
Applause erupted. Having witnessed Jason Luo fight through injury to win, the spectators left smiling, as if they'd just seen the perfect fairy-tale ending...
Tony leapt into the ring and hugged Jason. "Victory! Yes! You scared the life out of me! If something had happened to you today, I'd never forgive myself. Thank God you're okay—seriously, I nearly died of fear!"
Jason Luo froze, taking a moment to register what he'd just heard. Then he said, "Wait… you didn't think I was holding back on purpose and let him injure me, did you?"
"Huh? Isn't that what happened?"
"Bullshit…"
Raul dragged the two out of the ring—the next match was about to start!
"Alright, Tony, help Jason pack up. Don't touch his wound. We'll go check the time and opponent for the next match. Stay here. This win was hard-earned—we need to celebrate. When we're back, we're all going out for French food. My treat!"
Raul walked off beaming, like he'd just won the lottery.
Once the seniors left, Tony blurted out, "Ha! I gotta share the good news with Grace—she'll be so happy!"
Jason Luo stopped him. "Don't tell her about the injury."
"I know! But I doubt you'll hide it for long."
"We'll deal with that later…"
When Grace heard, she was overjoyed and insisted on speaking directly to Jason Luo.
"Bro, you're amazing! You won again! Have Tony send me the match video—I want to see it! And when's your next fight? I'm off tomorrow, I can come!"
"Oh, not sure yet. I'll let you know when I hear."
"And Tony's phone broke, so he didn't record it. You won't be able to watch…" Jason Luo didn't dare let her see the footage and worry.
"Oh no, that's awful! Tony, seriously! Then Brother, tell me the moment you hear anything. This is the last free match I can watch—even if I have to take leave, I'll come!"
"Got it."
After hanging up, Jason Luo reminded Tony again to keep his mouth shut. Having changed out of his gear, he felt his phone vibrating nonstop.
It was Dr. Miao again. Jason quickly picked up.
"Hello, Dr. Miao, sorry—I was in the match just now."
"What? You've already finished? I've been here a while but didn't know which match point you were at. Never mind, tell me the result first!"
"Well… a close win."
"Oh, good, good! At least it wasn't for nothing. Where are you? I'll come find you."
"My fault—I forgot to give you the exact address. We're at match point 577."
"Alright, alright. We'll talk when we meet."