The American TV series "Four-Round Boxing Champion Starts with Shameless"

Page 176

"It seems the 'beast' is starting to fight back!"

The commentator shouted excitedly, his voice suddenly rising, "Green has intensified his attack! A combination punch! A fierce combination punch! Can Lee withstand this offensive wave?"

The atmosphere inside the venue was instantly ignited.

The audience watched as Green charged at Victor like a storm, his heavy punches whistling through the air as he repeatedly slammed into Victor's defensive gloves and arms, producing dull, terrifying thuds.

Viktor seemed to be only able to parry, retreating step by step, dodging around the boxing ring, and the situation looked very passive at one point.

"Hold on! Viktor! Hold on!"

Viktor's fans were on tenterhooks.

"Kill him! Mickey! Tear him to pieces!"

Green's fans cheered wildly.

However, on the sidelines, old Jack crossed his arms, his face showing no worry, but rather a barely perceptible smile.

He knew the bait had been swallowed and the trap was closing in.

Viktor's "passivity" was so realistic that even the subtle expressions—his tightly pursed lips and his occasional "rushed" breathing—were calculated perfectly.

This is not retreat, but the most skillful form of seduction.

Viktor's heart was like a frozen lake, calm and still.

Every punch Green threw was exactly what he expected.

He felt the power of his opponent's fist, analyzing its rhythm and angle.

Heavy, extremely heavy, enough to deliver a fatal blow—Mitch Green's previous seventeen wins were not inflated!

But it is also wild, direct, and lacks variety.

Under Victor's calm and analytical gaze, Green's movements even seemed somewhat "slow"—not because of his absolute speed, but because his intentions were too obvious.

His movements were so precise that every sidestep, dive, or slide allowed Green's seemingly inevitable punch to graze by the slightest margin.

The wind from the punches stung his cheeks, but it only made Viktor more focused—after killing five more people, Viktor grew to love the finer points of dodging, and the dodging training method recommended by Tyson was indeed very effective.

His gauntlets protected his head and torso, effectively blocking attacks that couldn't be completely avoided and minimizing damage.

He waited, patiently like the most seasoned hunter.

"Yes, that's it. Squander your energy and burn with your anger."

Victor silently recited the order in his mind, his gaze piercing through Green's frenzied attack, firmly locking onto the pre-set target—Green's left rib area.

There, the cumulative blows from the previous two rounds were beginning to take effect. When Green moved and punched, there would be an extremely brief, almost imperceptible pause and a slight facial contortion. His left hand would also subconsciously lower itself slightly to protect that sore spot.

Time passed amidst the fierce back-and-forth.

Halfway through the third round, Green's momentum remained fierce, but his breathing had begun to become heavy, and veins were bulging on his forehead.

Continuous high-intensity output takes a huge toll on physical strength, especially when he puts all his strength into every punch but misses repeatedly, the frustration and physical exhaustion will increase exponentially.

Viktor keenly grasped this point.

He knew the time was approaching.

Just then, Green launched another frenzied combination attack:

A feint with a heavy right hook, followed by a left hook to the abdomen, and then a right uppercut.

The offensive was incredibly fierce.

Victor quickly stepped back, simultaneously diving and dodging, narrowly avoiding the final, clearly intended uppercut.

Green's uppercut was too forceful and completely missed. The huge momentum caused his body to lean forward, and in order to maintain his balance, he had to take an extra half step forward with his left foot.

In that instant, Green's defense on the left side created an extremely brief but clear opening due to his body tilt and instinctive balance adjustment!

His left hand was outstretched to maintain his balance, making it impossible for him to defend in time, and his left side was completely exposed!

Viktor's pupils suddenly contracted, and the power he had been holding back was released like a tightly compressed spring!

Without the slightest hesitation, he relied almost entirely on his honed fighting instincts to swiftly and fiercely close the distance like a cheetah!

A short, powerful left hook, like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, pierced through the tiny opening with perfect precision and slammed into Green's old injury on his left side!

Green let out a painful groan, his body jolted violently, and his movements instantly froze.

The excruciating pain from the old wound compounded by the new injury almost suffocated him, leaving his mind blank and all his attacks abruptly halted.

No one’s bones are like Victor’s—they get thicker with each repair!

But this is just the beginning!

Viktor didn't give him even a fraction of a second to recover!

He cut inside, his body almost touching Green, his right arm already poised to strike!

Another, even heavier, and more tricky right uppercut landed with perfect accuracy on the same spot once again!

This time, the sharp, teeth-grinding "click" sound even pierced through the noise of the scene and reached the ears of the audience in the front row!

That was the terrifying sound of ribs breaking!

"what--!!!"

Green let out a heart-wrenching scream, his face contorted with agony, the grimace completely replaced by extreme pain.

His body went limp as if all his bones had been removed, his left hand clutching his left ribs tightly, his eyes unfocused, and his consciousness beginning to fade.

Viktor's eyes remained cold, devoid of any pity or wavering.

In the boxing ring, a moment of mercy is the greatest cruelty one can inflict upon oneself.

He saw that Green had completely lost his defense, with his head completely exposed.

Take a half step back to create a little distance and gain space to exert force.

Viktor's right fist was like a fully drawn bowstring. The power of his whole body started from the ground under his feet, passed through the violent rotation of his waist and hips, and finally passed to his shoulder and arm, and was poured into his fist!

The referee yelled in surprise from behind and rushed forward, shouting, "Hey..."

But it was too late:

A perfectly executed long-range right hook punch, tracing a deadly arc, bypassed Green's limp arms, avoiding the last bit of protection from the gloves, and landed solidly and without reservation on Mickey Green's right temple!

The sound of the blows was so heavy it made one's heart tremble.

Green's expression froze between pain and shock, his eyes suddenly rolled upwards, leaving only the horrifying whites of his eyes.

His massive body, like an oak tree felled by an invisible giant axe, completely lost consciousness and fell straight backward to the ground with a dull thud, splashing a little sweat.

The boxing ring seemed to tremble for a moment.

The referee reacted with lightning speed; he didn't even bend down to count the seconds—with his years of experience, he could tell at a glance that Green had completely lost consciousness.

Without hesitation, he rushed forward, spread his arms to block Viktor, and waved to end the match!

"It's over! The match is over! Unbelievable! KO! Victor Lee! A perfect counterattack! A fatal blow! He seized Green's only weakness and destroyed it without mercy!"

The commentator's voice was hoarse with shock and excitement: "'The Beast' has fallen! Utterly fallen! New York, weep! You have been defeated by the brute from Chicago!"

After a brief period of deathly silence, the venue erupted completely like a volcano!

The gasps, cheers, and incredulous screams merged into a massive sound wave that nearly lifted the roof off!

Flashbulbs went off wildly, capturing this breathtaking moment.

Medical personnel rushed onto the boxing ring with first-aid kits, surrounding Green to examine him and provide emergency treatment. Green's team also panicked and scrambled over the ropes.

Victor Lee, standing in the center of the spotlight, slowly lowered his fists.

His breathing was slightly rapid, his chest heaving, and sweat and the little bit of sebum that had gotten on him while he was parrying glistened in the light.

But on his face, there was no ecstasy, no excitement, only a deep calm, as if the earth-shattering blow just now was merely the completion of a routine task.

He calmly raised his fists, accepting the cheers of the crowd. His gaze, like a cool scanner, slowly swept across the boiling audience, over the faces contorted with excitement.

······

The post-match press conference was packed with people, and flashes of light went off constantly.

Viktor had changed into a dark gray suit and answered reporters' questions with composure.

Michael stood at the backstage entrance, checking his watch every now and then.

A messenger quietly approached and handed Michael a note: "The beast's den has been cleared. F."

Michael breathed a sigh of relief and nodded slightly to Victor.

Viktor smiled almost imperceptibly as he continued to answer the reporters' questions.

"Viktor, you predicted the fight would end in four rounds. Why were you so confident?"

“I respect Mitch Green’s strength, so I used my full power.”

Viktor calmly replied, "But I have more faith in my preparation and the support of my team. Four rounds is already a very generous amount of time."

"There are rumors that this game involves a turf war in Brooklyn. What is your response to that?"

"I'm just a boxer, fighting only for the honor of being the world champion. My remaining mission is to defeat all my enemies!"

Victor's smile remained unchanged: "Golotta, February 6th, Plaza Hotel, New York, see you there!"

·······

Meanwhile, in a dilapidated building in Brooklyn's Red Hook district, Frankie and Mr. Liu's men had already completed the massacre.

There were more than a dozen corpses lying haphazardly on the ground, all of them Green's most loyal core members.

The gunfight was brief but intense.

Mr. Liu's elite squad was well-equipped and well-trained, using Type 56 semi-automatic rifles, and their firepower completely suppressed the "Beast Gang" members who only had pistols.

The scarred man reported over the walkie-talkie: "Cleanup complete, boss. There's no waste."

"do it according to plan."

Mr. Liu's voice was devoid of emotion.

Gasoline was spilled everywhere, matches were struck, and flames instantly rose up, engulfing the entire space.

The flames not only destroyed the evidence, but also symbolized the reshaping of the power structure in Brooklyn.