Almost the ultimate distance control style. Soon, Ye Chen unleashed more than thirty effective punches. While the damage wasn't significant, it was a testament to his determination. After all, Ye Chen was still recovering from his earlier liver injury, leaving him with little strength at this moment. Landing powerful blows was nearly impossible given his condition. Merely managing to force Ava into the corner of the ropes was a small victory in itself. Most importantly, he had to conceal his lack of full recovery from Ava; showing any signs of weakness could spell disaster. Thus, maintaining the rhythm of his assaults was paramount—under no circumstances could he let Ava escape his pressure. If that happened, he would be vulnerable; in this weakened state, he could not afford Ava's relentless single-shot barrage. Another liver-shattering punch could result in an abrupt end to the match.
"Bang!"
As Ava attempted to bend and sneak out from the corner of the ropes, Ye Chen snapped his fist back in. At this point, he primarily relied on straight punches with his backhand. The variations in his movements kept Ava guessing, forcing him to split his focus between both his head and body, thus complicating his defense. Meanwhile, the entire nation was riveted by the unfolding drama. Earlier, many spectators had counted Ye Chen out. The atmosphere in the live broadcast room was tense and grim.
[Come on, keep going. This isn't right; Brother Chen cannot inflict significant damage with those weak punches.]
[It seems like Ye Chen is hesitant around Ava, clearly reluctant to engage in close-range combat.]
[It's all about talent when it comes to heavy punches. Ava's strikes hit hard, so it makes sense Brother Chen is cautious.]
[True. You can see the difference; every time Ava throws a punch, it feels like he wants to knock Ye Chen out for good.]
[Those who don't understand boxing are laughable. If you've ever experienced a liver injury, you'd know how debilitating it feels. To keep fighting up close is just insane!]
[The strategy is astute. Ye Chen is using his considerable wingspan to land shots while avoiding risky exchanges. Why engage in a brawl if you can avoid it?]
[Not fighting isn't simply about fear; it's about reading the situation. If the odds favor staying back, why risk it? I'd argue that it's Ava who should worry about engaging with Brother Chen mid-range.]
[As long as Brother Chen adopts smart tactics, he can hold his ground against Ava. Plenty of champions wouldn't fare better.]
Three domestic commentators watched in awe as Ye Chen transitioned from defense to offense, their collective breath hitching in relief.
Commentator No. 1 remarked, "In the ring, it isn't solely about how hard you hit; it's about mental acuity and technique. The decision to engage is situational. Ye Chen has made an excellent choice, utilizing his wingspan to thwart attacks. If he can stay smart, he might just take the first round, avoiding Ava's peak power."
Commentator No. 2 chimed in, "Do you still have faith in Brother Chen? Have you noticed how much he's improved his boxing skills? Controlling someone of Ava's caliber is no easy feat. I'd assert that Brother Chen is currently among the top ten boxers at this level."
Commentator No. 3 noted, "The first round is nearing its end. It's a shame. If only we had a bit more time, we could see more scoring opportunities. I wonder who the referee will favor in their assessments during the tenth round. Ye Chen's single shot effectiveness may outshine Ava's, especially with two solid hits, and his accuracy is better as well."
In the arena, Ava detected the sound of the ring signaling the end of the round. He paused for a moment, took five seconds to steady himself, and then, with a sudden burst of energy, he took a deep breath and surged forward, lowering his center of gravity. It was the final minute, and both men shared the same instinct: they each wanted to land a punch right before the buzzer.
Ava charged at him with his straight fist while pressing forward, and Ye Chen instinctively raised his shoulders, ducking out of the way just in time. He countered with a textbook uppercut from his back hand, aware that Ava would certainly have a counter of his own. Both fighters had the experience; as long as they remained alert, there was no need always to protect their chins and heads at all costs.
Visible frustration hung in the air as both men aimed to capitalize on the final moments of the round. "MX!" "Canelo, Canelo, Canelo!" "Ye Chen, Ye Chen, you're proving yourself!" The crowd erupted with excitement. Fans from both sides seemed to compete in amplifying their cheers, each group trying to drown out the other's voices. This uncontrollable energy only heightened the electric atmosphere, as audiences yearned for displays of strength within such confined spaces.
With pulses racing, the three commentators leaned close to the monitor, fearfully anticipating an impending knockout. Both fighters threw their uppercuts almost simultaneously; it was a case of who could strike faster or harder. However, neither landed a clean shot as both men managed to evade with quick reflexes. Ye Chen adjusted his movements swiftly, stepping back to create distance, while Ava's punch whiffed and instead unleashed a razor-sharp straight punch with his other hand. Yet just as he fired it off, the resounding bell confirmed the end of the round. That punch barely missed by the tiniest of margins, just shy of Ye Chen's nose. Fortunately, his reflexes had saved him; had the punch connected, it could've meant serious trouble for him right at the critical moment.
Ava still hadn't fully regained his balance when the referee stepped in between the two fighters, effectively halting any further exchanges. Ye Chen quickly retreated to his corner, visibly relieved yet wary. Just then, his future father-in-law hurried through the ropes, rolling in a bag filled with essentials. He unloaded a collection of items: water, towels, ice cubes, and even a portable chair. As Ye Chen walked back, he caught a glimpse of his future father-in-law setting up the stool and couldn't help but smile; there was an endearing humor to it all. While these items were typically provided by the organizers, it seemed that his father-in-law had brought his own supplies. Thank goodness it bore no logos; otherwise, there would be no end to the branding debates.
"Wow..." Ye Chen breathed out, adjusting his pacing as he said, "So that's why you carried that bag earlier. Did you go out and buy all these things?" This marked Ye Chen's first opportunity to sit at the ring's side, a stark departure from his usual standing rest in the Octagon.
"Well, what other option did I have?" His future father-in-law gently began to rub Ye Chen's arms and legs, showcasing genuine care as he asked, "How are you feeling now? Does it hurt?" He hadn't experienced a liver injury himself, but he often observed how even the toughest fighters succumbed to such injuries. By this point, red marks peppered Ye Chen's side—it looked painful, swollen even.
"Much better now," Ye Chen replied between breaths, trying to regain his composure.