Koselan was completely broken.
No one could understand what was going through his mind—a veteran who had fought on professional stages for more than ten years suddenly found himself unable to land a single punch.
Had he really gotten old?
He would rather believe his eyes were deceiving him than accept that a rookie could possess such unreal evasion skills.
After throwing more than a hundred punches into thin air, Koselan's fighting spirit crumbled. What was the point anymore? His opponent could just stand there and still not get hit! In that instant, he felt like he had aged decades.
The crowd went insane. The result of the match no longer mattered—everyone had only one burning thought: to grab Jason Luo by the collar and shout, How the hell did you do that?!
"Hey, man, are my eyes playing tricks on me? This is insane! Don't tell me this kid's Muhammad Ali's apprentice?"
"No, it's different. Look at his dodges—his movements and Footwork! I've never seen anything like that. This… this must be some kind of special technique or unorthodox style!"
"My God! You mean that's real?!"
...
In the ring, Jason noticed Koselan's attacks slowing. His Stamina was running out—time to strike back!
Deactivate Absolute Evasion!
He had no choice. Without control over his own body, he couldn't launch a proper attack. The skill was incredible, yes, but during activation he couldn't coordinate his counterpunches at all.
Once he regained control, Jason went on the offensive. Koselan's Stamina was nearly gone, and worse—his fighting will had completely vanished. He went full defense, refusing to throw even a single counter, convinced that striking back would only open himself up to more punishment.
But no one can defend forever.
Under Jason's relentless assault, the exhausted veteran's guard broke. After several heavy hits to the ribs and midsection, pain forced him to bend over, and Jason followed instantly with a sharp uppercut—sending Koselan crashing to the canvas.
But the crowd wasn't even watching the knockout. All eyes were on the big screen replaying Jason's impossible sequence of evasions.
"Sixty-five! Sixty-six! Sixty-seven—Holy Mary, he dodged seventy-one punches in a row!"
"A genius! A prodigy is born!"
"Maybe it's just a coincidence!"
"A coincidence? Go try it yourself! Forget seventy-one—if you dodge eleven, I'll call you a winner!"
On the canvas, Koselan still had the strength to rise—but he didn't.
For him, the match had lost all meaning. His boxing career ended that night, because he had lost the most vital thing a fighter needs—the will to fight.
When the referee's count reached nine and Koselan showed no intention of getting up, he waved his hand, ending the bout and declaring Jason Luo the winner by knockout.
The crowd erupted—cheers, applause, even flowers raining down from the stands. To them, a new star had been born. Jason Luo smiled, pressing his fists together in thanks to the roaring audience.
...
Amidst the thunderous applause, Jason stepped down from the ring. Before Brown or Raul could speak, fans surged forward—some taking selfies, others begging for autographs, and many demanding to know if Jason's movements came from some secret martial art.
Realizing things were getting out of hand, Brown and Raul quickly shielded Jason and escorted him back to the locker room. With the help of security, they finally managed to withdraw safely.
The moment they entered, Rod threw his arms around Jason, almost shouting with excitement. "Jason! You're going to be famous—no, huge! That was a miracle! Hahaha! How did you even do that?!"
His words echoed Brown and Raul's own thoughts—they'd been waiting to ask the same question since the moment he left the ring.
Jason felt a little panicked. He'd definitely gone overboard today, and trying to explain it by bringing up some mysterious "mentor" would only make things worse!
"Uh... listen, everyone," he began carefully. "Back on stage, I suddenly entered this... state. It's happened before, but I didn't really pay attention to it at the time."
"Oh? What kind of state?" Brown leaned in, eyes alight with curiosity.
"Well... it's hard to describe. I felt my mind sharpen—like all my focus locked in at once. My vision expanded, my thoughts went quiet. I couldn't hear the crowd, only the sound of his punches cutting through the air. My body moved on its own—faster, lighter… I can't really explain it—it felt... surreal."
Raul and Rod exchanged incredulous glances, while Brown stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That could be possible. When someone devotes themselves completely to something, they can sometimes enter a state of total immersion—what we call 'flow.' It matches what you're describing, though it's extremely rare. Most people can't even comprehend it."
Jason breathed out slowly in relief. Thank God. That explanation works.
"Exactly, Coach! It's just like you said. In that state, I lost all sense of self. All I could see was his fist—and for some reason, his Punch Speed seemed to slow down..."
Brown's excitement flared. "Jason, try to recall that feeling. If you can control that state at will, your entire boxing career will change—and maybe even the boxing world itself!"
...
The small group in the locker room had no idea what was happening outside. Thousands of fans had recorded Jason's inhuman evasions on their phones, and within two hours, the internet had exploded.
"Unbelievable 37 Seconds! Rookie Boxer Toying with His Opponent—Dodges Nearly 100 Punches!"
"Eastern Technique Shocks the Boxing World! The Wonder Kid Stuns the Arena!"
"Ali's Hidden Disciple Appears—Who Dares Challenge Him?"
...
By the time Jason and his team returned to the hotel, local media had already swarmed the entrance, cameras flashing, demanding answers—was it some kind of martial art or advanced boxing technique?
Rod stepped forward immediately. "Apologies, the fighter just finished his match and needs rest. BX Promotions will release an official statement on our website and the boxer's personal page soon. Please stay tuned."
Even Rod didn't dare decide what to say next. He rushed to report the situation to BX Promotions' headquarters so the company could coordinate an official explanation.
But things got even more complicated. The WBA and WBO began arguing over video rights. The WBO claimed ownership since they had hosted the event, insisting that all footage from the venue belonged to them.
The WBA countered that both fighters were registered under their organization, and since Jason Luo was the central figure of the footage, the rights naturally belonged to them.
...
After just one professional fight, Jason Luo found himself at the center of a storm.
Now he truly regretted it. If he'd known it would blow up like this, he never would've revealed his trump card so soon.
What a mess—one that wouldn't be easy to clean up.