"Walter?"
Bobby Green's voice dripped with confusion, but that didn't stop him from launching a lightning-fast jab.
With a grace that only comes from intense training, Ye Chen ducked, narrowly avoiding Bobby's strike.
Enthralled by his own success, Bobby realized this was his moment. He was convinced that his previous taunts had rattled Ye Chen, throwing him off his game. How long could this go on without delivering a decisive blow?
From the commentary booth, Logan's voice boomed, "What is Ye Chen planning? Is he really trying to practice dodging without protecting his head?"
DC chimed in, "This is the peril of flying solo in the ring. No one is here to remind him to stay defensive and not get baited by Bobby's mind games. Remember, our AKA once reached out to him, only to be turned down. What could he possibly be thinking?"
This wasn't their first rodeo. Sure, they'd seen fighters play the dodging game before, but typically that was a strategy for later rounds when both fighters were drained of energy. Fatigue made every punch feel like a gentle tap, and dodging became a dance of survival—and a clever trap to exhaust the opponent even further.
But now? They were still in the early rounds, and both fighters were bursting with energy. This was no time to invite pain.
As if listening to the unspoken tension in the air, Ye Chen sensed Bobby's rhythm, watching the opponent's left hand jab toward him. He sidestepped with practiced ease, only to find Bobby's right hand soaring toward him like a lightning bolt. Bobby shifted seamlessly, unleashing a flurry of punches—a combination that could take down novice fighters in a heartbeat.
Yet Ye Chen was unfazed. He'd danced this dance a hundred times in his training simulations. He knew he could navigate this storm. In fact, all he needed was to rely on his upper body to evade; his legs remained remarkably still.
The moment Bobby's punches landed air, it was clear he was rattled. Confusion washed over his face, mingling with a hint of disbelief.
The crowd erupted, rising from their seats as if lifted by a shared wave of emotion.
"Bobby Green! Bobby Green! Bobby Green!"
The excitement was palpable, every cheer echoing with the fervor of anticipation. Yet, despite the cacophony, Bobby's punches failed to connect, whiffing through the air like a missed opportunity. A few strikes came dangerously close, with one nearly grazing Ye Chen's chin. He leaned back just in time to avert disaster.
But dodging was just half the battle. The commentators were on the edge of their seats, their voices threading with anxiety. In the front row, Catwoman, who'd been cheerfully waving Ye Chen's shirt moments before, clamped her hands over her mouth as the tension thickened.
"Ah!" she gasped, barely able to contain her worry when Ye Chen barely ducked a perilous uppercut.
As he navigated a minefield of fists, her heart raced in tandem with his movements, swaying almost involuntarily as if her body were a reflection of his own struggle.
Meanwhile, the chat exploded with reactions in the live stream:
[Brother Chen, are you trying to tempt fate?]
[What's happening here? Did he accidentally sign a deal with the enemy?]
[Please don't self-sabotage! Two wins down; don't let it slip away now!]
[Ye Chen can't continue like this. He's too easily rattled by his opponent.]
There was a flicker of concern in the thread, warning that Ye Chen was not appreciating the gravity of his situation. His agility was impressive, but his carelessness was alarming.
Then, the tide began to change.
[Dang! Look at how he dodges—he's practically gliding!]
[Is this even real?]
[Can you believe it? He's as elusive as Tyson in his prime!]
[Wow, I'm sweating here! Brother Chen's on fire!]
On the stage, it was Bobby Green who looked mystified now. His punches, known for their precision, had become ineffective. What witchcraft was this? His jaw tightened; he could barely believe it.
Then, in a flash, Bobby launched a powerful straight punch. As if reading the future, he executed a sweeping high kick directed straight at Ye Chen's head.
Caught off guard, Ye Chen recognized the danger from the tension in Bobby's shoulders—a warning sign he had learned to heed. Instinctively, he lifted his arms just as the powerful kick raced toward him.
*Thud!*
A sharp, echoing sound reverberated through the arena as the kick connected with his guard. Ye Chen was shaken but standing.
The crowd was electric, excitement thrumming in the air like a live wire. It seemed as if, in that explosive moment of attack and defense, they had forgotten their loyalties and simply reveled in the spectacle.
More than 95% of the audience stood, their eyes wide with thrill and anticipation.
"Whew…"
Bobby Green was panting heavily, his energy sapped from the intensity of the exchange. The hidden high kick had failed to land a decisive blow, and for a fleeting moment, he felt the fragile edges of his mental stability begin to fracture.
He took a step back, a silent admission that he needed to regroup. As the pace of the fight began to shift, an undeniable truth settled within him: Ye Chen was proving far more formidable than he had prepared for.
"Is this the end?" Ye Chen thought, unwilling to relent. He thrived on pressure. Not one to give his opponent a moment to breathe, he surged forward with renewed determination. "Now it's my turn!"
As he pressed the advantage, the game had only just begun.