As soon as Jason Luo entered the ring, bullet comments flooded across the Youku livestream. Seeing Jason Luo for the first time, commentator Du Wenjie quickly introduced him:
"Viewers, the fighter stepping into the ring now is Jason Luo. He looks sharp and full of energy! Although he's only 19, he's already fought in dozens of matches over the past year—and hasn't lost a single one! According to my records, Jason Luo reached the semifinals at last year's Chicago Global Amateur Boxing Championship."
"He now holds a perfect professional record—seven wins, all by knockout. We have every reason to expect an impressive performance today. I'm really looking forward to seeing what kind of tactics he'll use against Charlison's offense!"
"I'm quite familiar with Charlison Hanvey's style. He's an aggressive, high-pressure fighter—a tank-like puncher with tight rhythm and accurate combinations. A very tough opponent, one of the strongest boxers Britain has produced in recent years."
Midway through his commentary, the livestream feed showed Jason Luo removing his cape, revealing a tattoo of a coiled dragon on his shoulder. The chat instantly erupted.
"Awesome tattoo!"
"Jason's representing with pride!"
Du Wenjie smiled when he saw it. "That's the mark of determination and belief. He's carrying the spirit of perseverance with him tonight. Go, Jason Luo!"
...
At the venue, the excitement was just as intense. The match hadn't even started, yet the crowd was already roaring. Both sides of spectators—local and overseas fans alike—were chanting for their fighters. The atmosphere felt more like a football match than a boxing event.
Once both fighters were ready, the referee performed the usual pre-fight checks and signaled for them to touch gloves. But Charlison ignored Jason Luo's extended fist and instead drew a hand across his own throat—a blatant gesture of provocation.
The crowd erupted. British fans cheered while many others booed in protest.
The referee issued a token warning before starting the fight.
Coach Brown had originally planned for Jason Luo to taunt his opponent first, hoping to push Charlison into a reckless state of anger.
But before Jason could even act, Charlison charged in like a storm. He didn't bother with any testing jabs—he went straight into an all-out assault. Clearly, he was still fuming from Jason's words at the press conference. And deep down, he didn't believe this young fighter could threaten him. Determined to prove a point, he wanted to end the fight quickly and reassert his dominance.
Jason Luo gritted his teeth. "Well, that saves me the trouble—he's already lost control!" But as soon as the punches started flying, Jason could feel the pressure immediately.
Charlison might be aggressive, but he had the skills to back it up. His punches were compact yet powerful. The short motion made them both fast and precise, leaving Jason little time to adjust.
Charlison's Punch Speed wasn't overwhelming, but his tight movements made it hard to predict where the next punch would land. Dodging was difficult, and since his punches had strong penetration, Jason had to guard his ribs and abdomen carefully—making defense even tougher.
Seeing this, Jason decided to stop playing defense and started circling around the ring. But Charlison's pursuit was relentless—no matter how Jason shifted his angles, the man stayed locked onto him as if reading his every move.
Damn it!
Jason clenched his jaw. If this kept up, there'd be no way to keep distance. Was he really going to have to trade blows this early?
Charlison, confident that he had seized control of the rhythm, pressed forward even harder. He drove Jason toward the ropes and began a fierce close-range assault.
Trapped, Jason refused to back down. "Fine then. Sooner or later, this fight's going to come down to power anyway—might as well see who's tougher!"
He dropped his guard and met Charlison head-on in a brutal exchange.
Charlison's eyes lit up. He thought Jason was being foolish—reckless enough to fight him toe-to-toe. "You're asking for it, kid!"
Within a minute of the opening bell, both fighters were throwing everything they had. The match instantly entered a white-hot stage. Judging from the pace, Jason looked like the one being forced to respond—but his counters were fierce.
The local fans went wild. "Ha! Charlison's too strong! He's not giving that kid any room to breathe!"
"Exactly! What a mistake to provoke him before the match—now he's paying for it!"
In the commentary booth, Du Wenjie grew anxious as Jason was pressed to the ropes. "This isn't ideal. Trading punches here gives Charlison the advantage. Jason needs to break out of the corner immediately!"
But up in the ring, Jason had no thought of retreating. Since the slugfest had already begun, he was determined to see it through.
Besides, Jason had a clear objective in mind—he needed to activate his Vitality condition. A fight wasn't over until blood was drawn. With that in mind, he began aiming straight for Charlison's nose. It was an easy target, and even if blocked, those punches would still sting.
Charlison, however, was a brawler by nature. Dodging wasn't part of his vocabulary. Jason, unable to anticipate his short punches with his Reaction skill, decided to stand his ground and go punch for punch.
It was like two raging bulls colliding head-on.
Their approaches were different—Jason favored hooks and swings, while Charlison relied on straight punches and tight hooks. After nearly a minute of heavy trading, both fighters realized they hadn't managed to gain any real advantage.
Jason held his ground, which shocked Charlison.
At the same time, Jason noticed something odd—no sign of injury on Charlison's nose despite repeated hits. "Unbelievable," he thought, "this guy's made of iron."
Despite the intensity, the damage on both sides remained limited. Their exchanges looked brutal, but professional fighters rarely take clean hits when prepared. Unless there's an overwhelming gap in Strength, landing a decisive blow in a head-on exchange is nearly impossible.
Realizing that long- and mid-range exchanges weren't effective, Charlison suddenly closed the distance and initiated a close-quarters brawl.
At this range, prediction went out the window—it was pure instinct, reaction, and power. Clinching could break the rhythm, but doing so would signal weakness, and Charlison would immediately exploit it.
Charlison stepped in close, fists tight. Jason grinned. "Close combat? Fine. Let's settle this right here."
He braced himself and met Charlison blow for blow—neither man willing to yield.