Jason — POV
What's happening…?
I can't move properly.
My vision blurs, spinning like the ring itself is shaking. My legs tremble—this has never happened before. Every punch of his feels like I'm being struck by metal rods, one after another.
Thud.
Crack.
Each blow forces me back.
"Jason! What are you doing?"
My father's voice cuts through the noise.
"Don't let him punch you! Guard up!"
What am I doing? This isn't me.
No—he's cornering me. I have to keep my guard up.
I just have to survive this round—
Aaron leans in, his voice low, venomous.
"After I win this match, I'm taking Erika out."
A pause. A smirk.
"I'll touch her how I want. She'll let me. You know why?"
His eyes burn into mine.
"Because she loves me. And you?"
He chuckles.
"You won't be able to do a damn thing."
Something inside me snaps.
Don't you ever say her name with that filthy mouth.
Rage floods my chest, drowning reason.
"I'm going to kill you."
Jason falls straight into Aaron's trap.
He charges blindly, throwing everything he has—but his body can't keep up.
Aaron stays still, calm, barely moving.
"Come on," Aaron taunts, spreading his arms. "Come and get me."
Jason rush in with sloppy footwork, swing at his face—
WHAM.
A sharp right slams into his forehead.
The arena goes dead silent.
"What—?!"
Before I can react—
CRACK.
An uppercut tears through jason guard.
Warm blood fills his mouth. His feet leave the ground. The lights spin—and then—
THUD.
He hit the canvas.
The crowd erupts.
"OH—!!"
"HE'S DOWN!"
"NO WAY!"
He's still conscious.
The referee drops beside me.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"Get up, Jason!"
My father's voice breaks. "Get up, my son! The fight isn't over!"
"Brother!" Jake shouts, panic clear in his voice. "Get up! We can still win!"
Jason — POV
I can't see properly.
My body won't move.
Is this how it ends…?
No.
No—I didn't train this hard to lose like this.
I have to stand—for my father.
For Jake.
For Erika.
Losing has never been an option.
In this match, there are only two endings:
I win…
or I die here.
"SEVEN!"
"EIGHT!"
I grit my teeth, forcing my arms to move. Every muscle screams in protest.
"NINE—!"
I push myself up.
The arena explodes.
"He's up!"
"He actually got up!"
Aaron clicks his tongue, unimpressed.
"You stood up again? Doesn't matter. Next punch puts you to sleep forever."
Before he can move—
DING! DING!
The bell rings. The round is over.
Corner
My father rushes in, wiping the blood from my mouth, pressing an ice pack to my face.
"Jason, are you okay?" His voice shakes.
"What happened? Why did you lose control? Your movement was sloppy—you punch harder than this even when you're sick."
"I… I don't know," I whisper. "My body suddenly felt heavy.
My vision blurred.
His punches… they got stronger.
I can't catch my breath."
My father freezes.
"Did you eat or drink anything before the match?"
"No."
"…Then how did this happen?"
He exhales sharply, forcing himself calm.
"Forget it for now. Can you fight the next round? If not, we quit. I won't put you in danger."
Jason let out a weak laugh.
"Quit? Those words don't suit you."
He stand, meeting his eyes.
"You once told me—whether the sun rises or not… a Schizor will."
So will I.
A small smile appears on his face.
Third Round
DING!
Jason — POV
This round… I give everything.
Just like you taught me, Dad—I'll use my anger as my weapon.
My body feels even heavier than before.
I take a deep breath, grab my hair, and smile.
"This is getting crazy…"
The crowd notices.
"Look—he's smiling."
"That smile… it's terrifying!"
"What a devil!"
The arena erupts.
I wait. One opening.
All my power—into a single blow.
Aaron sneers. "What's with that smile? You think you can beat me? Look at you—you can barely stand."
My eyes flick to the stands.
Erika.
She's watching.
And for a split second—she looks at Aaron.
I can't tolerate that. Not anymore.
"Let's finish this," he say coldly. "Here and now."
"Show me what you've got, shrimp."
Aaron rushes in, throwing straight punches. I guard, barely holding on.
I can't find an opening—
Jason shove him back with his shoulder and step away.
"So this is how I end it…"
Jason take an unusual stance.
Aaron scoffs. "What's that? You trying something funny, joker?"
The crowd murmurs.
"Wait… that stance—"
"No way."
"That's the Schizor family technique!"
"I haven't seen that in years!"
Jake's eyes widen.
Dad smiles. "You learned it… huh."
Aaron closes the distance with wild footwork.
Jason stay still.
As he enters his range—
Fear.
I can smell it.
"What is this pressure—?!" Aaron panics, throwing a desperate punch.
I dodge with my shoulder, plant my legs, tighten my core—
This punch could shatter a devil's throne.
Aaron realizes it.
He can't dodge.
He closes his eyes.
"It's over…"
But Jason body gives out.
Everything goes dark.
THUD.
The arena explodes.
"NO WAY!"
"HE COLLAPSED!"
"THIS CAN'T BE REAL!"
The referee starts counting.
But he didn't move.
He lays there unconscious.
Aaron wins.