69novels Page 239
Page 239
An uproar erupted in the audience, and many people stood up.
Coach Davis was pale, his nails digging into his palms without him even realizing it.
The veteran bent down and hugged Viktor, getting a moment to catch his breath.
Their bodies were pressed close together, and they could feel each other's rapid heartbeats and quick breathing.
"Can't hold on any longer, old man?"
Victor whispered in Louis's ear, the heat of his sweat and breath mingling together.
Louis didn't answer, but instead hugged her even tighter, trying to gain every second to recover.
Victor was about to unleash his Bear Swing.
The referee intervened and separated the two players.
"Stop clinching! Continue the game!"
The instant they separated, Victor launched another fierce attack, his body strikes landing like precise missiles on Louis's liver area.
Even with his arm blocking the attack, Louis still winced in pain, because the opponent's force was too strong and extremely concentrated.
"Victor is systematically dismantling Louis's defenses!"
Kowaski commented, "These physical blows will have a cumulative effect later on!"
Louis's face was flushed, and his breathing became heavier.
His movements slowed noticeably, each step appearing as if he were struggling in the mud.
Viktor seized the opportunity and delivered a vicious right hook toward Louis's head—
At the last second, Louis ducked to dodge, and at the same time delivered a precise liver strike to Victor's right ribs!
The sound was unusually muffled, yet it silenced the entire venue for a moment.
Viktor's face contorted in pain, his breathing noticeably slowed, but he still managed to throw a punch, which was dodged by his opponent.
"Goal! Louis' classic counterattack!"
The commentator shouted wildly, almost jumping out of his seat.
The entire stadium erupted in deafening cheers.
Coach Davis jumped up excitedly, while Ethan stared wide-eyed in horror.
Louis continued his combination punches, but most of them were blocked by the recovered Victor.
Nevertheless, the physical blow clearly affected Viktor's condition, and his movements were no longer as fluid as before.
"Liver strike!"
Kovacs explained, “Even a 400-pound strongman has a vulnerable liver area! There are many nerves there, and a blow can cause temporary paralysis and severe pain! But Victor seems fine. Does he really have a metal plate in his ribs?”
Victor struggled to catch his breath, but the pain on his face hadn't completely subsided. His gaze towards Louis held a newfound respect, a hint of caution tinged with the previous ferocity.
In the final thirty seconds of the round, signs of declining stamina began to appear in both players.
His punching speed slowed down significantly, and his steps became heavy.
But no one backed down; every punch carried the power to end the match.
Viktor landed a right straight punch on Louis's face, and Louis immediately retaliated with a left hook that struck Viktor in the chin.
Blood and sweat splattered in the air, forming brief but brutal patterns.
"Unbelievable! The two boxers are still exchanging heavy punches!"
Max's voice was hoarse. "This is one of the most exciting rounds of the year!"
The audience went absolutely wild, with many standing in their seats screaming.
An elderly man with white hair clutched his heart medication tightly to his chest, but his eyes never left the boxing ring.
The little boy next to him opened his eyes wide, grabbing his father's arm with a mixture of fear and excitement.
"Hold on, Joe! Hold on!"
Davis roared, his voice almost cracking.
Ethan yelled, "Finish him off! Victor! Finish him off now!"
The bell rang, and the third round ended!
The two boxers were almost touching each other, like two ancient trees with intertwined roots; whoever fell first would take the other with him.
As the referee separated them, Victor said to Luis, "I respect you, veteran. But you won't make it to the next round."
Louis simply nodded slightly and dragged his weary body back to the corner.
His team immediately surrounded him, anxiously tending to his wounds and bruises.
"I only need one punch! I still have the strength to knock him out!"
Chapter 202 The Brown Bomber Lands
Technical statistics show that the number of punches thrown in this round decreased to 110, but the accuracy improved.
On the scoreboards of the three judges, Victor was slightly ahead.
“Look at these data,”
Kowaski analyzed, "Viktor leads in total punches and heavy punches landed, but Luis's effective accuracy is higher! This means the veteran's style of fighting is more precise!"
The stadium's big screen was replaying highlights from the third round.
When the footage of Louis's liver strike was shown, the audience erupted in cheers once again.
Viktor's supporters nervously whispered among themselves, worried that the blow would have an impact on subsequent rounds.
Davis carefully pressed an ice pack against Louis's right ribs: "How's this? Try taking a deep breath."
Louis did as instructed, then frowned in pain: "Perhaps... one of them is cracked."
Davis cursed under his breath, "Listen, Joe, next round you have to..."
“I know what to do,”
Louis interrupted him, his eyes unwavering. "He has an opening on his right side. After that liver strike, he'll instinctively protect that side."
Meanwhile, Victor's team was also urgently treating his injuries.
How is your breathing?
Ethan asked anxiously, pressing lightly on Victor's right rib.
Viktor took a breath, his facial muscles twitching slightly: "It's alright. I just suddenly couldn't breathe."
"Liver strike,"
Ethan's expression turned serious. "That old guy knows exactly where to hit. Listen, you have to protect the right flank, but not too obviously, or he'll keep attacking there."
Viktor nodded, his eyes rekindling with fighting spirit: "He won't succeed. I'll end this next round."
The bell is about to ring, and the fourth round is about to begin.
The two boxers stood up, their eyes meeting again.
The bloodstains and sweat remaining on the boxing ring bear witness to the previous battles, and more sacrifices are about to be demanded.
Louis took a deep breath, feeling the stinging pain in his ribs and the groans of his muscles.
My 38-year-old body is protesting, but my spirit is becoming more and more determined.
He knew he was creating a miracle, rewriting history.
Viktor twisted his neck, making a clicking sound.
At 22, his resilience had allowed him to recover most of his liver injury, but the memory remained—the veteran still had his fangs.
Before the bell for the start of the fourth round even rang, the air was already taut like a bowstring.
In another corner of the boxing ring, the atmosphere was so heavy it was almost palpable.
"Tell me honestly, can we continue, Joe?"
Miles' voice was low and tense, and his hands trembled slightly. "We've already proven ourselves. There's no need to risk our lives."
Louis took a deep breath, his eyes, which had seen countless battles, still shining with unwavering determination.
“I still have strength, Miles. More than they think.”
He took the water bottle, took a small sip, and immediately spat it into the bucket. "I only need one punch to knock him out! I can feel that his defense will relax for half a second after the combination punches, right on his right side."
Miles stared at his old friend's swollen eyelids and broken brow bone, a pang of sorrow rising in his heart.
They've known each other for 25 years, from when Louis was 15 in a small gym in Brooklyn, all the way to the packed MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas.
This could be Louis's last chance, his sixth challenge for the world championship, and possibly his last battle.
"What happened to your left arm? Why are you protecting your ribs?"
Miles asked astutely.
Louis managed a weak smile: "It's alright, it still works."
Miles felt a chill run down his spine, but he didn't say anything.
He put a mouthguard on Louis and gave him a final word of advice: "Watch out for his left hook. He likes to use it when he's cornered by the ropes. Dodge, don't take it head-on, conserve your energy and wait for an opportunity."
The bell rang suddenly to signal the start of the round.
"Hold on, Joe! Find an opportunity to fight back!"
Miles shouted hoarsely from the sidelines, gripping the ropes tightly with both hands.
Viktor burst out of the corner like a cheetah and immediately launched a fierce attack.
His combination punches were precise and swift; his jab was like a viper spitting its tongue, and his heavy punch was like a hammer striking an anvil.
Louis was cornered at the ropes, adopting a classic turtle defense, his arms tightly protecting his head and body as he endured the barrage of attacks.
"Victor Lee launches a fierce attack! He corners the veteran! A series of heavy punches!"
The commentator's microphone nearly exploded, "Luis looks like he can only defend, with no chance to fight back!"