Chapter 64 - Chapter 63 — The New King Is Crowned

With the entire world watching, Yogan stood only ten meters from Conor, wagging his index finger at him in a slow, deliberate arc. It was an insulting, almost royal gesture. His lips moved, voice just loud enough for the cameras:> "You can't do this."The look on his face and the movement of his hand sent an unmistakable message to Conor — and to the whole planet:> Watch. I'll show you how a real king fights.Conor's face changed instantly. The playful smirk that had made him millions flickered, then vanished.Inside the Octagon, José Aldo felt his lungs almost explode with rage. What kind of humiliation is this? In his own title fight, in front of his own fans, this challenger was ignoring the reigning champion and instead provoking an irrelevant spectator outside the cage.He's going to pay, Aldo told himself. I'll knock him out. I'll teach him an unforgettable lesson. I'll show him who the real champion is.Yogan climbed the stairs and stepped through the Octagon door. Under the bright arena lights, legendary announcer Bruce Buffer walked to center cage, his tuxedo shimmering, voice rolling like thunder as he began his iconic introduction.When Aldo's name was announced the entire Brazilian section exploded into green-gold flames of enthusiasm, chanting and stomping. When Yogan's name came, the red-clad fans answered with their own roars that rattled the rafters.Referee Herb Dean motioned both fighters to center cage for final instructions. His voice was steady but his eyes flicked between the two men like a man standing between live wires:> "Protect yourself at all times. Follow my orders. Touch gloves."Aldo inhaled slowly, pushing the anger back down. Tradition still mattered. He extended his right fist toward the challenger.But Yogan did something that shocked the entire arena.He clasped both hands behind his back and ignored Aldo's outstretched glove. His gaze didn't even land on the champion; instead he looked over his shoulder, past the cage fence, and cast a deliberate, disdainful glance at Conor sitting cageside — as if to say You're not worthy.Then, in a voice so low that only Aldo and the referee could hear, he whispered in English:> "You don't deserve this."The words were soft but the impact was nuclear, a silent slap far more devastating than any shouted insult. They seared into the proud heart of José Aldo, a king who had ruled for ten years.Aldo's jaw tightened. His nostrils flared. A low growl rose from his chest.Herb Dean instantly stepped between them, palms up, sensing the tension thick enough to taste. He ordered both men back to their corners.Bruce Buffer's soul-piercing voice rose to its crescendo:> "IIIIIT'S TIIIME!"The bell rang.Ding!At that exact moment Aldo's pent-up fury detonated. All composure, all tactics, all carefully drilled counters disappeared under a wave of pure rage born from that public humiliation. Only one thought burned in his mind: Tear apart this arrogant challenger who dares insult me.Abandoning his trademark feints and distance control, Aldo charged forward with reckless aura — just as he had against Conor in another lifetime — all or nothing.His footwork was still lightning fast, his right hand a decoy. The real killing blow, the deadly combination he had rehearsed for years, followed instantly. This wasn't his signature low kick; it was a full barrage of punches. He would disintegrate Yogan before the man even knew what hit him.But this was the moment Yogan had rehearsed a thousand times in his head.Even though his body was drained from the weight cut, the instinct engraved into his soul — the Godlike Reflexes — remained.As Aldo's center of gravity shifted and his shoulder flexed, the world in Yogan's eyes slowed. Every twitch of Aldo's muscles appeared in high definition; every trajectory unfolded before it happened.Instead of retreating, Yogan stepped forward. He slipped just outside the sharp edge of Aldo's right straight, leaning his torso to the left with a seemingly risky back-step reminiscent of Conor's famous counter.For a heartbeat time and space folded.History began to repeat itself.Yogan's left hand shot out like a viper awakening, timed precisely for the instant when Aldo's old strength had spent itself and the new power had yet to arrive. With every ounce of his body he threw a precise left hook, carving a cold arc through the air, landing perfectly on Aldo's unprotected jaw — exposed by his own forward momentum.Crack.The sound wasn't loud, but it hit the hearts of every spectator like a hammer.Time froze.Aldo's expression — rage and murder — froze with it. His forward stride halted. In a fraction of a second his burning eyes lost their luster, turning blank. He didn't even know what had happened.The shock from his jaw spread through his brain like an electrical surge, shattering consciousness, pride, and anger alike. His invincible body, which had ruled the featherweight division for a decade, folded like a marionette with its strings cut. His legs buckled. He crashed to the canvas.An era collapsed.Yogan's right fist was already cocked, ready to deliver the final blow, but a figure moved even faster.Referee Herb Dean launched himself forward like an arrow, covering Aldo with his body while waving his arms to stop a fight that was already over.Yogan's raised fist hung in mid-air, then slowly lowered.Six seconds.From the bell to the stoppage only six seconds had passed."OH MY GOD! HE DID IT! AMAZING!"Joe Rogan jumped from his commentary chair, headphones flying, shouting into the microphone as if trying to convince himself it was real.For three heartbeats the MGM Grand Garden Arena stayed silent, stunned. Then it erupted in a tidal wave of gasps, screams, and disbelief, as though a mountain had collapsed into the sea.And at that moment Yogan could no longer hold back his own flood of emotion. He looked at Aldo lying on the canvas like a curtain falling over a legend and felt every ounce of repression, pain, and risk of the last months surge upward — the brutal cut to make weight, the fear of shock, the agony of that fatal 0.3 kilos on the scale.All of it turned to a single overwhelming wave.His knees gave out. He fell hard onto the cold Octagon mat. He buried his head in his arms, shoulders shaking violently.He cried.Tears of joy. Tears of liberation. Tears of pride.The cage door swung open. Javier, DC, Khabib — the entire AKA team — stormed inside like a victorious army. They surrounded Yogan, hugging him tightly as he knelt, laughing and crying like a child.The new king had been crowned.In that instant a new era of Yogan began, exploding into the world in the most shocking, unbelievable way imaginable.---