Moments later, the referee's voice cuts through the air, sharp and clear.
"Seconds out!"
Park Hyun-seok rises immediately, confidence rolling off him in waves. His coach, Yun Tae-Hwan, leans over the apron and whispers:
"Don't let him breathe! Keep the pressure on him every second!"
Park nods once, eyes locked on Kenta.
The first round told him everything he wanted to know, or so he believes.
"He's hittable. He's slow to start. I have to overwhelm him now."
The brief hesitation he felt near the end of the round has gone. This time, he intends to take the fight by force.
The bell cracks open the second round.
DING!
Park rushes toward the center, eager to smother Kenta under volume. But Kenta stops him before he can even build momentum.
A jab taps out from Kenta's left hand. Not fast, not heavy, just perfectly measured.
Park slips it with ease, but when he shifts his lead foot forward…
Dsh!
A second jab clips him right on the cheek, light, barely more than a tap.
