After Jason Luo returned to his corner, Raul quickly began treating his cut. Fortunately, it wasn't deep, and the bleeding stopped soon after.
Coach Brown rushed back from the stands. He'd just spoken with Pacquiao and come up with a new plan.
"Jason, great job out there! But you need to tighten your control over Carl. His heavy punches become even more dangerous when he's moving. We think you should close in and cut off his space—don't give him room to weave and dodge. And stop going for his head. His shoulder-roll defense is too tight. Focus on the body instead. More body hooks…"
On the other side, Carl's corner wasn't in full agreement. Mayweather believed Carl had gone too hard that round, giving Jason too many chances to counter. He suggested returning to a defensive counterattack strategy—keep the distance, score points.
But De La Hoya disagreed. "That strategy won't hold up now. Carl's got a head injury, and it's only the sixth round. We can't risk that Rookie landing another shot there. If it opens up again and the ref calls a TKO, we're done for."
"That's why I think Carl's doing the right thing," he added firmly. "The safest move now is to finish this as fast as possible. I believe he can do it."
Mr. May frowned. He still thought going all out was too risky, but De La Hoya had a point. Anything could happen in the ring. Stay on defense too long, and you're bound to slip up. If Jason landed another heavy punch on Carl's wound, things could spiral fast. Better to settle it in a fair, head-on brawl than get cornered later.
"Alright... fine. You're the coach. I'll hold my opinion. But remind Carl to watch his stamina."
Once they agreed, De La Hoya called Carl over. "Carl, listen. Keep your head protected. That kid's brow bone is split open—make that your target. It's time to hit hard. I want you to come out strong and take back control this round. But pace yourself—manage your stamina and stay composed. Got it?"
Carl, still breathing heavily as the pain in his abdomen faded, nodded slowly. Just then, the bell rang. Round Six was underway.
Even before the fighters touched gloves, the crowd was already on fire. After that brutal exchange last round, the tension had built to a boiling point. The spectators were even more worked up than the fighters themselves.
"Victory is yours! Go, Jason! Keep that undefeated record alive!"
"Jason Luo, let's go! The Luo Style is unbeatable! Win tonight, and I'll introduce you to my sister!"
That last shout drew laughter and glances from nearby fans. But once they saw the man's face, everyone shook their heads. "Bro, judging by your DNA, that offer might not help him much…"
With the referee's signal, Round Six officially began.
No hesitation—Carl and Jason Luo charged straight at each other. Jason led with his jab, his right hand locked and ready to strike at any opening.
As Carl advanced, he suddenly sidestepped right. Jason reacted immediately, but Carl used a basketball-style crossover step, twisting back left and launching a brutal left hook in the same motion!
Such nimble footwork—exactly why the coaches had warned Jason to cut off Carl's movement. Objectively, Carl's agility far outclassed Jason's.
Caught off guard, Jason twisted to the side to lessen the blow, but the punch still grazed his cheek, earning Carl a clean point and drawing gasps from the crowd.
Taking an early hit only fueled Jason's resolve. He unleashed a fierce counterattack, pressing forward with rapid Combination Punches that targeted Carl's ribs and abdomen, steadily cutting off his space.
Still feeling the effects of Jason's body blows from the last round, Carl didn't dare absorb too many clean hits. He kept dodging and countering, but soon realized his movement range was shrinking—Jason was forcing him toward the ropes.
Carl quickly read his opponent's intent. Trying to limit his movement, huh? Dream on!
He immediately shifted his angle and escaped toward the open center of the ring, breaking free from Jason's pressure.
Watching from the corner, Brown sighed. Against a fighter of this caliber, there was no easy way to trap him without a clear advantage.
Seeing Carl escape didn't discourage Jason. Instead, he quickened his rhythm and pursued aggressively, using close-range exchanges to tie Carl down and limit his momentum.
He couldn't completely contain Carl's movement, but his relentless body attacks were forcing Carl to stay cautious. Carl began rapidly switching between orthodox and southpaw, trying to offset Jason's pressure.
Jason wasn't particularly experienced against Switch Stance fighters, but his circling rush tactics were working well. No matter how Carl shifted, Jason hounded him like a spinning top, relentlessly hammering his ribs from every angle.
Then, mid-movement, Carl suddenly feinted and fired a quick strike toward Jason's head—aiming straight for the injured brow bone. But this time, Jason's focus was razor-sharp. He sidestepped and countered with a hook to Carl's ribs. Carl twisted, retracting his arm to fire an uppercut, but Jason slipped the shot and instantly drove a sharp jab toward the exposed gap under Carl's raised arm.
That was a dangerous spot—Carl couldn't risk it. He parried Jason's jab with his free hand, but in doing so, his defense briefly opened up.
Jason seized the moment. He unleashed a rapid barrage of punches at Carl's face. Forced back and struggling to regain balance, Carl stumbled—Jason's final jab struck squarely against his chest, sending him sliding across the canvas!
Though the hit wasn't devastating, the knockdown electrified Jason's fans. The stadium erupted in cheers.
"Down again! Carl's done! Two knockdowns already—Jason's unstoppable!"
"What a read! He turned that tiny gap into gold. Carl's got awful luck—after that fall, he'll have to play defense the rest of this round!"
That was the voice of a true boxing fan. When fighters are evenly matched, a knockdown usually seals the round. Even if the damage isn't serious, momentum shifts hard to the standing fighter, forcing the other to go defensive to avoid another fall.
But Carl wasn't about to accept that. Since he wasn't seriously hurt, he sprang back up, glaring at Jason Luo—not in anger, but frustration.
He wasn't mad at Jason—it was himself he blamed. One small mistake, and Jason had capitalized instantly. Falling first was humiliating.
He'd waited a whole year for this fight. No matter what, he had to win. He couldn't—wouldn't—let himself be on the back foot.
Carl clenched his fists, eyes blazing with resolve. It was time to unleash his ultimate move...