Podiat Sports Arena.
Inside the familiar venue, Jason Luo stepped onto the stage for his second professional bout.
Fighting on ho turf, Jason received overwhelming support from local fans. The arena—packed with over ten thousand spectators—was filled to capacity, with more than half of them being local supporters who had co specifically to cheer him on.
The organizers were thrilled. It was clear that Jason Luo’s na now carried real comrcial weight in Chicago.
Back in the locker room, Coach Brown was reviewing strategy with him.
“Jason, how do you plan to handle this Bania?”
Jason grinned. “What, Coach—you’re not worried I’ll lose, are you?”
“Not at all,” Brown replied calmly. “A fight like this is yours to win—as long as you don’t get careless. I’m more interested in hearing how you plan to approach what cos after this.”
“After?” Jason asked, puzzled.
Brown unfolded the rankings chart and pointed. “Yes. You’ve got montum now, and plenty of people are watching your next move. But if you co across as too dominant, it might actually hurt your chances of moving up.”
Jason thought it over and quickly understood what Brown ant.
Plenty of fighters on the rankings were eager to face him—why? Because he was a hot na, yes, but also because they saw him as an easy target: a popular newcor with limited experience and manageable risk.
In other words, in their eyes, he was like a lamb wearing a golden bell—valuable, but harmless enough to hunt.
But if Jason started destroying his opponents too convincingly, that perception would change. Once fighters higher on the ladder began to see him as a real threat, they’d start refusing challenges. That would only slow his rise.
“Oh, I get it now,” Jason said. “You an…”
“Simple,” Brown said, folding his arms. “Win, but keep it under control. Don’t disappoint your fans, but don’t give anyone above you a reason to fear you either. That’s the balance I need from you.”
Jason groaned. “Coach, that’s easier said than done. I can’t just get in there and not fight back. If I pull my punches, it’ll feel like I’m throwing the fight…”
“Nonsense!” Brown cut him off. “That’s not throwing the fight—it’s strategy. Rember when you faked that injury just to bait your opponent before countering? This is the sa idea. Jason, in boxing and in life, you have to stay flexible. As long as you don’t compromise your integrity, there’s nothing wrong with creating the best conditions for yourself.”
Jason nodded reluctantly. “Alright. I’ll control the tempo—make it look intense without going overboard.”
Brown chuckled. “Good. Bania loves to brawl. Go along with it. Think of it as live sparring—and make sure it’s exciting enough to keep the crowd on edge. That’s what they paid to see.”
Jason smirked. “You’re starting to sound more like a movie director than a coach, you know that?”
...
Under thunderous applause, Jason Luo and Bania entered the ring.
It was Bania’s first ti in front of such a massive crowd. The adrenaline hit him hard. Determined to impress, he flexed, posed, and showed off his physique for the caras. With his scarred face and fierce expression, he certainly looked the part of a fighter.
After the referee’s routine check, the match began.
From the opening bell, the hotheaded Bania rushed forward to seize the center of the ring, pressing aggressively toward Jason.
Jason didn’t engage right away. He moved and retreated, using the first exchanges to feel out Bania’s rhythm and power. Within monts, he had him figured out—the kid hit hard, especially with his rear hand, but his technique was shallow and lacked variety.
Once he had the asure of him, Jason began his performance.
He deliberately left an opening, took a hit, and staggered back as if caught off guard. Then he suddenly “snapped,” charging forward to brawl toe-to-toe!
Landing that first punch boosted Bania’s confidence. So this is the rising star everyone’s talking about? Doesn’t seem so untouchable to …
The crowd roared as the two went all out in what looked like a brutal slugfest.
Jason, of course, was in full control. He treated the fight as live training—working on his superb evasions, trying to recapture that hyper-focused ntal state. His counterattacks were intentionally restrained.
Bania, thinking he had the upper hand, got more and more aggressive, shouting at Jason between punches, desperate to knock him down and steal the spotlight.
By the end of Round One, they looked evenly matched, leaving the audience breathless.
Round Two began, and Jason started moving backward again, forcing Bania to chase. Cornered, Jason once more traded blows. He even threw in a few dramatic dance-like dodges, but “unfortunately” this ti got caught by several punches in a row, forcing him to defend more carefully.
Sowhere in the middle of it all, Jason discovered sothing surprising—he had a real knack for showmanship. Both the crowd and his opponent were completely absorbed in his act. The adrenaline, the cheers, the illusion—it all created a strange, exhilarating thrill.
And Jason liked it.
He leaned into the performance, drawing out the drama.
At ringside, Coach Brown muttered, “Alright, enough already, you little punk. Ti to end this.”
But Jason was too caught up in the mont. His acting instincts took over.
In the next exchange, he intentionally brushed into Bania’s punch, then stumbled backward, clutching the ropes with one hand. By rule, the referee had to start counting.
The entire arena gasped. Even Brown’s heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t tell anymore if Jason was faking it or actually hurt.
“Jason! Hang in there! Counter now—push the attack!” he shouted anxiously.
Then, to the crowd’s roar, Jason suddenly powered up—Unyielding Body activated—and unleashed a fierce counteroffensive, battering Bania until the referee waved it off.
Victory!
Still refusing to accept the loss, Bania loudly demanded a rematch afterward—but Jason had no interest. He’d already gained what he needed: two points each in Stamina, Rear Hand Power, and Toughness, plus one in Strength. Next, he planned to take on a technical fighter to boost his skill attributes.
When Coach Brown later learned that Jason’s near-knockdown had been pure acting, he was so furious he kicked the kid right in the leg.
“You reckless little brat—no discipline whatsoever!”
...
The dia erupted again, buzzing with headlines about Jason Luo’s “struggling” performance. Many claid it proved he hadn’t truly mastered any advanced evasive technique—his first victory must have been sheer luck.
Jason didn’t mind. Hype was hype. The more people talked, the more attention he got—and attention ant business.
And if the buzz ever cooled down? He could always pull another stunt. That move was always ready to go…
Though, he admitted with a grin, it did give his back one hell of a workout.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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