The audience erupted with cheers, eager for the second round to begin.
As the fighters stepped back into the arena, Rhodes appeared determined to push forward. He knew that even if he were knocked down, he would make sure to fall sideways. Earlier, during Ye Chen's corner talk, each of Ye Chen's words had sent shivers down his spine, amplifying the blows he had endured. It felt futile; he knew he couldn't survive this round.
He adjusted the armrest to a lower position, aiming to shield himself from any falls. It wasn't just him; his team shared the same belief. Many believed the wrestling matches would continue seamlessly into the second round. After all, Gazi's initial throw in the first round had been both unexpected and incredibly effective, leaving no need for a shift in strategy. Rhodes, not being a top-tier fighter, displayed a significantly dwindling fighting spirit. The confusion and fear in his eyes were evident to Ye Chen, a stark contrast to their initial encounter.
Meanwhile, Gazi was focused, intent on executing Ye Chen's fresh tactics. The loyalty of the crowd was palpable. "Rhodes, stay close to the cage!" A shout rose from behind — Covington.
It's worth noting that professional fighters are usually sparse at fight nights; however, the UFC consistently invites some to each event, allowing them to observe. Known as "the platform," these events draw interest from veterans such as Covington, who had vocally advised Rhodes on how to regain his footing in the previous round.
Unfortunately for Rhodes, he couldn't implement any of Covington's strategies, much like a top student pointing at a complex equation for a struggling peer who simply couldn't grasp it. Fear of being thrown left Rhodes clinging to the cage for support, hoping it would afford him some protection.
In his mind, Ye Chen wondered if Covington had really backed Rhodes. He had heard whispers about Covington's penchant for causing a stir. Ultimately, Ye Chen didn't concern himself too much; Rhodes had already shown signs of fear, which meant he stood little chance against Gazi.
"Uh-huh." Gazi applied pressure this time, prompting Rhodes to retreat further. They closed the distance effectively, and in a sudden move, Gazi dove forward. As Rhodes instinctively lowered himself, the crowd around went hush. Rather than continuing with the dive, Gazi executed a backhanded overhead punch without even glancing at Rhodes.
The force of the blow was immense, sending Rhodes' mouthguard flying. He crumpled to the canvas like a rag doll.
The impact echoed like thunder in the arena. Gazi, evidently fueled by adrenaline, rushed forward to take advantage, landing two more powerful strikes before the referee—seeing enough—intervened and prevented Gazi from delivering any more blows.
Gazi sprung back to his feet, arms raised in triumph, as the crowd erupted into applause. The sequence was remarkably swift, taking less than five seconds from Gazi's feint to the bout's decisive conclusion. Only twelve seconds into the second round, the moment would ripple through the collective memory of those present.
"Wow, that punch was brutal."
"Did his mouthguard just fly off the stage?"
The spectators expressed their disbelief and disappointment at Rhodes' failure, realizing that the fight was truly one-sided. "This is incredible! That fighter seems truly formidable under Ye Chen's guidance."
As cheers erupted from the corner team, the head coach Doss and Li Wei leaped into celebration. Ye Chen, lying on the stage, indulged in applause. The delivered punch was a testament to raw power and precise planning, with tactics clearly executed to perfection.
Yet, there remained a connectivity issue in Gazi's combination; a hitch in rhythm perhaps due to his googly steps. Fortunately, accuracy shone through, and ultimately he avoided any mishaps. In Miami, cage climbing was prohibited, and soon, Gazi raised his hands in celebration, sharing the joy with Ye Chen and his team.
The moment the cage door swung open, Doss and the crew quickly ambushed Gazi. Ye Chen took a few steps toward him when suddenly, his peripheral vision caught something hurtling through the air. Cold liquid sprayed across his arm as if raining indoors. Instinctively, he recoiled.
"Thud!" A drink bottle—a dangerously un-capped projectile—whizzed by and smacked against the cage.
At that instance, he found himself sidling past a young woman holding a sign, the drink splashing both of them as the bottle soared. Alarmed, they both jumped and squealed. But Ye Chen's focus shifted towards the assailant—a rowdy Covington enjoying the chaos.
"Are you serious?" Ye Chen barked, turning and hurling a bottle back at them. "What's your problem?"
"Look who's talking!" Covington retaliated, unable to suppress his outrage. His companions likewise joined in the jeering.
For a fighter, the crowd understood the undertow of UFC drama. Covington had exhibited such behavior before, his reputation for hype preceding him — notorious for stirring trouble without regard for consequences. Crowds had watched him incite conflicts in bars and arenas alike, relishing in the chaos.
"Get closer, if you dare!" Covington taunted, his trademark bravado spilling into the air around them. His verbal jabs aiming to provoke, as laughter echoed across the venue. "What's wrong? You scared? Fight me in the ring, and I'll end your streak here!"
Yet, the staff rushed in to create physical barriers between the two, tension amplified amidst cries from the audience.
"Shut it!" another voice echoed, belonging to Dana, who arrived on the scene, disallowing the group from spiraling further into chaos. "What are you trying to achieve here?"
"Dana! Protect your star, huh?" Covington continued pushing, shrugging the logical discourse away.
Dana, dismissing him, turned back towards Ye Chen and implored, "Don't engage. He wants the jump in publicity, and you giving in feeds that. Keep your head."
In truth, Ye Chen was aware that such antics only stoked his popularity—Covington's online disses were palpable and added intrigue to the fight game.
But Ye Chen was astute enough to avoid taking the bait. Physical responses carried serious consequences in America; it wasn't worth it risking legal trouble or monetary repercussions.
As the atmosphere gradually simmered down, Gazi approached, visibly shaken. "What was that? Don't engage; he's just seeking attention," he piped up.
Ye Chen waved it off, concerned for Gazi's moment to shine, unwilling to sully his victory.
"We must return to the ring before fines hit us," Dana interjected, ushering the group back as Covington continued with his verbal acts.
"See! Ye Chen doesn't dare! He knows he can't handle me!" Covington hollered, the self-promoting vitriol echoing.
Suddenly, they all returned to focus on Gazi amidst a rolling replay of his KO. In chilling slow-motion, Gazi's punch landed perfectly, showcasing the brutal force that had rendered Rhodes incapacitated.
Mic'd up with Rogan, the immediate post-fight questions bubbled, "You faced criticism about last time's penalty. This KO was emphatic! What's your mindset now?"
Gazi's voice trembled with excitement, "This is MMA! Anything can happen! Yes, the past penalty was contentious, but I proved myself today." He nodded appreciatively, "Thanks to the team for their unwavering support and guidance—especially Ye Chen, his tactics were pivotal tonight!"
As he spoke, he pulled Ye Chen into the spotlight, translating the sentiments. Unwilling to dwell on the recognition, Ye Chen brushed it back. But the excitement in the crowd was palpable, each vocalizing their appreciation for the perceived spark he brought.
"Ye Chen, the king of the ring and corner? You've even managed to grab the fanfare!" Rogan proposed as the audience erupted into chants.
"Everything was a solo effort—my training and preparation were my own," Ye Chen answered, charmed yet directed. "Of course, I have foundational skills in boxing, wrestling, and MMA. I'm still on the lookout for the right team to collaborate with."
As cheers swelled from the fans, Ye Chen glanced knowingly at the crowd. He sensed a question looming—about the earlier altercation, indeed.
"Just so you know," Ye Chen pointed toward Covington, "I only look to fight real competitors. I can't remember the last significant victory for Covington… oh wait, it might've been against a seasoned motor in a featherweight showdown."
With a smirk, he cast the audience into laughter, sealing the intersection of combat sports with theatricality that only the UFC realm could conjure.