On March 19, local ti, nearly twenty thousand spectators filled Hiram Bithorn Stadium for the WBO Featherweight Interim Champion bout—an impressive turnout for Puerto Rico, a territory of just over three million people.
After a brief morning workout and so rest, Jason Luo and Coach Brown left for the venue at 10 a.m.
In the locker room, Jason suited up in brand-new gear. He chose his usual bright red boxing shorts, this ti embroidered with the BX logo—free advertising for his promotion company.
The gloves were provided by the event organizers. When Jason slipped them on, they felt noticeably thicker than his usual pair.
Brown explained, “You’ve been using eight-ounce gloves, but professional boxing rules require fighters above 71 kilograms to use ten-ounce gloves. They’re thicker, but it won’t make much difference.”
Because this was only an undercard bout, the audience hadn’t yet filled the seats when the announcer took the mic.
“Before today’s WBO Interim Champion fight, let’s warm up the crowd with a WBA inter-organizational ranking match! Rising newcor Jason Luo takes on Koselan from Houston! This marks the first ti we’ve seen Jason in a Puerto Rican ring—let’s see what kind of surprises he brings tonight!”
There was no fancy walkout ceremony. Jason and Koselan entered the ring from opposite sides. The crowd’s curiosity was piqued by Jason’s black hair and unfamiliar features, many eyes following him with interest.
Jason also studied his opponent. Koselan was roughly the sa height and reach, but Jason noticed sothing peculiar—his left shoulder was visibly larger than his right. Clearly, he’d been training that guard for years.
After a short warm-up, Jason removed his shirt. His sculpted physique sparked so murmurs among the crowd, though the all-male audience had a more critical tone.
“Heh, that kid looks solid. Might be worth watching.”
“Don’t be fooled. He looks like soone who switched from another sport. That kind of build doesn’t necessarily work well in boxing.”
On the ring, the referee checked both fighters, then signaled the start of the match.
Jason opened aggressively, charging in with a flurry of combination punches. But Koselan was ready—his raised left shoulder absorbed most of the impact, while his rear hand guarded his head. He didn’t rush to counter, even wearing a faint smile.
After two rounds of relentless pressure, Jason realized sothing was wrong. Head-on attacks weren’t working. Koselan’s shoulder block and tight guard ford two layers of defense. Forcing through would only waste precious Stamina—a dangerous trade-off.
The head was too well-protected, so Jason switched to targeting the ribs and midsection. This ti, Koselan couldn’t just block—he was forced to counter.
His straight punches were fast and precise. With their similar reach, they posed real danger. Jason stayed focused on defending against Koselan’s rear heavy punch, pushing through his front-hand jabs to strike the body.
Koselan’s expression changed slightly. He began stepping back, keeping distance and avoiding close-range exchanges.
Jason seized control of the center of the ring, pressing forward and dictating the pace. But he knew this advantage was only surface-deep. Koselan was no pushover, and Jason stayed on guard.
Still, caution didn’t an hesitation. His orders from Brown and Rod were clear—stay aggressive. When he saw Koselan circling to control range, Jason quickly adjusted, sidestepping to cut him off.
Koselan was taken aback. This kid’s reaction speed was impressive—his ability to adapt mid-fight was far beyond what he’d expected from a newcor.
Realizing he couldn’t underestimate him, Koselan finally turned up the intensity. The veteran’s aura shifted as he launched a barrage of straight-punch combinations, and the fight exploded into a fierce exchange.
Jason imdiately sensed the power behind the older man’s strikes and tightened his defense. Koselan’s rear straight carried serious weight—he’d blocked one earlier and still felt the sting. Jason slowed his attacks, raising his guard and conserving energy.
The montum evened out again. Seasoned boxing fans in the crowd nodded approvingly. Both fighters showed balance between offense and defense—this was solid, professional boxing.
The comntator praised, “Though just an undercard fight, both boxers are performing exceptionally. Rookie Jason Luo, in particular, is impressive—his fighting style is fierce and direct, yet disciplined and efficient. A promising newcor, no doubt his future will go far beyond tonight…”
Jason didn’t care what the comntators said—he was unsatisfied. This was his professional debut. A draw was unacceptable.
But with Koselan’s defense so tight and his counters so sharp, how could he break through?
He rembered Brown’s words—don’t give your opponent a mont to breathe. Jason raised both arms to guard his head and pushed forward again, determined to fight up close.
This ti, Koselan looked uncomfortable. His rear hand packed power, but Jason’s tight guard made it hard to land cleanly. Body shots didn’t do much either, so the veteran was forced to retreat and circle again.
Jason chased, forcing movent. Seizing a mont, he stepped in and swung a heavy hook toward Koselan’s midsection. Koselan blocked instinctively, but Jason feinted—pulling back his swing and imdiately twisting into a rear Body hook that slamd into Koselan’s ribs.
The hit landed solidly. Koselan staggered back two steps, his footwork montarily unsteady. Jason pounced, unleashing a fierce follow-up assault. But Koselan’s defense held firm, his shoulder-lift guard absorbing most of the impact—damn, those shoulders were infuriating!
Jason went back to body shots, but Koselan quickly clinched him, cutting off the rhythm.
Once the referee separated them, Koselan had already recovered, narrowly escaping the round’s danger.
Applause rippled through the stadium. For an undercard bout, this was turning out to be quite the show.
Professional fights felt longer—three minutes in the ring stretched endlessly.
Though Jason had missed a good opportunity, he didn’t panic. As long as his strategy was right, one successful opening ant another could follow.
He charged again with both hands guarding his head. This ti, Koselan didn’t dare move around recklessly—defending while on the move ant openings, and he couldn’t afford those. He needed to stop Jason’s relentless montum.
Koselan went all out, firing combinations without reservation. He refused to back down or let Jason close the gap.
Jason’s defense held, but under the rain of heavy punches, charging forward blindly like a hot-headed rookie was too risky.
If he couldn’t break through, he’d wait him out. Jason refused to believe a man Koselan’s age could sustain such output for long.
Sure enough, Koselan began to realize the younger fighter was playing him. Jason was baiting him into punching—leaning forward just enough to provoke an attack, then pulling back the instant Koselan committed.
But the mont Koselan paused, Jason pressed in again. It was a clear strategy—to drain his Stamina little by little.
Koselan was growing frustrated. Being forced into attrition by a newcor was humiliating. Gritting his teeth, the 36-year-old veteran decided it was better to go on the offensive himself than be dragged down this way. He gathered his strength and launched a full-on counterattack against Jason Luo.
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