Finally, the moment has arrived.
Ye Chen steps onto the stage.
As he walks past the crowd, the energy from the boxing fans surprises him. They're more enthusiastic than he ever expected.
He had braced himself for the backlash from the trolls online, thinking no one would welcome him.
But he was wrong.
"Come on, Ye Chen! Don't fall asleep just yet!"
"If you survive the first round, you win!"
"Knock out Li Zhengyong! I'm rooting for you!"
"Stay sharp, kid! Just circle the ring and keep your guard up; that guy hits hard!"
"I know you're not the best, but I still want you to teach that little punk a lesson!"
"Seriously, you don't have a team? You can't afford one, can you?"
The encouragement is overwhelming, and Ye Chen, while appearing calm on the outside, is a bundle of excitement inside.
This is the life he's always envisioned—creating his destiny with his own hands.
Though the cheers come with some strange comments, they don't matter. Ye Chen believes that his fists will win over the crowd.
With no team to help, he removes his shirt and tosses it aside, nerves buzzing as the staff slather Vaseline over him and check his gloves.
The red tape wrapped around his wrist signals he's on the red side. Li Zhengyong is blue.
When everything's set, Ye Chen strides into the Octagon, heart pounding.
This isn't his first time in this cage; he's been a sparring partner before. Today, however, he's the fighter in the spotlight.
As he warms up, he fights to calm his excitement, running through his strategy in his head.
In his mind, he's still in the simulation space preparing for battle.
"Boom."
In that simulated world, his uppercut lands squarely on Li Zhengyong's chin—the finishing move he's perfected through countless repetitions since yesterday.
Li Zhengyong collapses to the mat, back of his head hitting the ground as he goes unconscious.
The timer shows four minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first round.
In other words, it took just 27 seconds to knock out Li Zhengyong.
Ye Chen feels a wave of satisfaction. This speed is just what he aimed for—he had declared he would finish the fight in thirty seconds.
"And now, let's welcome the blue fighter, Li Zhengyong, hailing from Kimchi Country…"
Li Zhengyong strides in, draped in his national flag, and is met with a chorus of boos.
Even from afar, Ye Chen hears the crowd's disdain.
It dawns on him—people might mercilessly critique each other, but they won't tolerate insults from outsiders.
Despite the online negativity, this moment fulfills a different hope: that he wins and stands tall for his country.
Li Zhengyong, however, thrives on this away-game pressure, strutting confidently as if savoring the moment.
As soon as he enters the cage, he lands a front somersault, roaring defiantly and jogging around.
More boos rain down upon him.
The announcer's voice cuts through the tension, "In the blue corner, Li Zhengyong—he's a fierce competitor with an MMA record of 11 wins, 1 loss, 8 of those victories by first-round KO and 3 by submission. This is his UFC debut."
Cheering erupts as the spotlight turns to Ye Chen.
"The red corner's newcomer previously served as a professional sparring partner, currently holding a record of 0 wins and 0 losses in MMA. Today marks his first fight in the ring."
The announcer struggles to embellish Ye Chen's profile, leaving the audience in stunned silence.
While the cheers start to fade, he calms himself, waving to the crowd, his sole focus now clear: take down the opponent, collect the winnings, and walk away.
The referee motions for the fighters to approach, laying out the rules.
"No strikes to the back of the head; no elbow strikes below the waist; no knee strikes to the face…"
As the referee speaks, the commentators chime in, noting, "Li Zhengyong's a powerhouse—every one of his 11 victories came in the first round. One hit from him can end the fight in an instant!"
"Indeed, just look at the betting odds—Li Zhengyong at -1600 and Ye Chen at +1100. Those numbers are practically unheard of in UFC history!"
They continue, "And what's with Ye Chen? He's fighting alone, without a corner. It's almost like he's playing a joke."
Once the rules are covered, the referee instructs the two fighters to return to their corners and check if they're ready.
With nods of affirmation from both, the referee calls out, "Start!"
In a flash, Li Zhengyong leaps into action, his pace lightning quick.
Ye Chen, however, deliberately takes his time, creating the illusion of fear.
Seeing this, Li Zhengyong seizes the center of the cage, thinking, *Just as I expected—a novice who doesn't know how to fight.*
With confidence, he lunges forward, landing a low kick to test Ye Chen's defenses.
In a surprising twist, Ye Chen doesn't flinch but instead cleverly blocks with his shins, the impact resounding through the arena.
Li Zhengyong's eyes widen; he wasn't prepared for such agile defense.
With determination, he adjusts and jabs, pushing Ye Chen toward the cage, but Ye Chen plays his part perfectly, positioning himself right where Li Zhengyong wants him.
At that moment, Li Zhengyong twists his hips, grinning—*The opportunity has arrived.*