Loma has finally mastered the jab, his fists moving with a new sense of purpose. But Xoza isn't done with him yet.
Xoza: "Good, you know the jab and straight punches now. Next is the right hook. This punch can end a fight if done correctly. Watch closely."
Xoza shifts into a boxing Philly shell stance, shoulders tight, hips coiled, and swings a right hook with deadly precision.
Xoza: "Try to replicate it. Power comes from your whole body, not just your fist."
Loma adopts a basic beginner's stance, muscles tense, eyes locked on Xoza's movement. He swings—but the punch falls short, lacking force.
Loma: "Did I get it?"
Xoza: "No. Twist your hips. Channel your energy from the ground up, not just your arm."
Loma swings again, twisting his hips, adjusting his weight. The motion feels more natural this time, but his form is still off.
Xoza: "Better body movement, but the punch itself is wrong. Drill it—again and again. 100 times."
Loma nods, exhaustion already creeping in, and moves to the heavy bag. The room reverberates with the sound of his fists.
1 – BOOM! 2 – BOOM! 10 – BOOM! 20 – BOOM!
His lungs burn, his arms feel like lead, and sweat pours down his face.
Loma (gasping): "This… is… too… much…"
Xoza (grinning coldly): "Stop now, and I'll punch your core myself."
Determined, Loma squares up again. His fists slam into the heavy bag, the sound echoing like thunder.
21 – BOOM! 22 – BOOM! 40 – BOOM!
The training room shakes with every impact. Pain and exhaustion mix with a fiery sense of purpose. Loma's breath comes in ragged gasps, but he doesn't stop. Not yet.
Chapter 16 End