Even before Siham unleashed his full power, Jason Luo could sense danger. The sheer weight behind Siham's punches was one thing, but what truly stood out was that his attack frequency was low—he was fighting like a heavyweight.
In the lighter divisions, boxers typically throw fast, fluid combinations in high volume. But in the heavyweight class, things are different. There, every punch carries immense force, so each one is thrown with extreme caution. Fighters fear leaving even the slightest opening that could lead to a devastating counter. Moreover, throwing heavy punches consumes tremendous energy—no one can swing wildly for long without burning out.
Siham's approach embodied this perfectly. Though he didn't throw many punches, each movement kept Jason Luo under constant tension. A sudden shoulder twitch, a casual step forward—tiny gestures that made Jason think an attack was coming. Siham, however, conserved his energy, watching Jason's defense intently and only striking when the moment was perfect. And when he did, his blows were so powerful that Jason couldn't dodge them and had no choice but to block and endure.
This was the mark of a true master—a real championship-level fighter!
Siham's pressure was also unique. Unlike others who rushed forward aggressively, he advanced at a slow, deliberate pace, steadily shrinking Jason's space to move. It felt as though a massive mountain was collapsing toward him, leaving nowhere to run or hide.
So strong!
Jason realized that if he kept letting Siham dictate the rhythm, he would be completely trapped. He needed to counterattack—he had to make Siham uncomfortable.
According to their pre-match plan, the only viable tactic was to use speed against strength—maintain a high punch frequency to suppress the opponent and limit his chances to strike back.
Unlike Siham, who still held back, Jason abandoned any thought of pacing himself. Anyone capable of becoming a heavy hitter had incredible endurance and durability—there was no room for half measures.
Jason launched a fierce counterattack. Still, he dared not close in for infighting, maintaining a medium-to-long range where he could at least react to Siham's heavy shots.
But even Jason's sharp attacks failed to break through. Siham's defense was airtight—his guard was steady, and his straight punches were impossible to slip through. Hooks were ineffective from that distance, and while Jason tried to use wide swings, Siham avoided them with ease. Even when Jason landed one or two, the impact was minimal.
This was bad news.
At medium range, Jason couldn't gain the upper hand. But if he stepped in too close, he wouldn't be able to defend against Siham's heavy punches. What now?
As Jason hesitated, Siham suddenly surged forward. Despite his slow, methodical pressure, his footwork was explosive. He lunged forward with a powerful jab-cross combination!
Jason quickly sidestepped, but Siham feinted midway, switching to a hook and pressing even closer. Jason tried to backpedal to create space, but Siham stayed glued to him, forcing him into close combat.
Damn it!
A heavy hitter with this kind of speed—there was no way to avoid him. Jason had no choice but to fight it out.
Seeing himself nearly backed into the ropes, Jason clenched his teeth. If I'm going to fight, better to do it here in the open than trapped against the corner!
Focusing on Siham's rear hand, Jason stopped retreating and threw himself into a desperate counterattack. The two fighters clashed in close quarters.
Siham's body was like armor—tough and unyielding. Jason tried to increase his damage using his Penetrating Force technique in his hooks and uppercuts, but his mastery wasn't complete. Siham barely flinched.
Seeing Jason stop retreating and commit to the exchange, Siham remained calm, keeping his guard tight and waiting for the right moment to throw his own heavy punches. He fought with remarkable composure.
Onstage, Jason kept swinging, but few of his punches landed cleanly. Still, his momentum looked stronger, and the fans in the stands began cheering him on enthusiastically.
Sitting in the front row, Holyfield turned his head slightly. "These fans don't understand boxing. If he keeps fighting like that, his stamina won't hold. Siham's become more disciplined in recent years. Maybe with Canelo gone, he'll carry the banner for the super middleweights."
Beside him, Whyte shook his head. "Maybe not. Siham's explosiveness is still his biggest weakness. If he can't fix that, he'll never reach the top. Personally, I've got my eye on that kid Fraser—the grandson of Smokin' Joe. The kid's got crazy talent—his technique and awareness are already elite. I wouldn't be surprised if he unified the super middleweight division one day."
"Oh? Then I'll have to keep an eye on him," Holyfield replied. "Anyone from Smokin' Joe's bloodline is worth watching."
...
Back in the ring, Jason found himself in a tough spot. His high-frequency offense had restored some momentum, but it wasn't doing any real damage—it was just burning stamina. Still, if he slowed down, Siham would push him into the ropes, which would be even worse.
Jason wasn't afraid of exhaustion, but his frustration grew as he failed to land anything meaningful. He couldn't find a way to threaten his opponent, and that passivity was eating away at him.
He tried to circle out to the side, but the instant he shifted his footing, Siham's heavy swing intercepted him perfectly. It was as if Siham had completely dissected his style, predicting his every move.
It made sense. Just as Jason had studied Siham's past matches, Siham's camp had surely analyzed his as well. Their coaching staff wasn't made up of amateurs.
Can't break through?
Jason feinted again, pivoting sharply to the side, but Siham, a veteran of countless fights, focused on Jason's legs—the upper-body feint meant nothing to him.
The result was inevitable. A crushing punch drove Jason back once more, nearly landing clean. He felt cold sweat drip down his spine.
Then, without warning, Siham went on the offensive. For someone who rarely threw combinations, he suddenly unleashed a fluid series of powerful punches. Caught completely off guard, Jason was forced to block and weave frantically, retreating step by step.
Before he realized it, he was backed into the corner ropes.
Damn!
Jason knew he was in serious trouble. In this position, Siham didn't have to worry about him slipping away—he could unleash everything.
Sure enough, once Jason was trapped, Siham went all out. It wasn't a wild flurry, but every punch carried terrifying power. Jason barely held up his guard to block, leaving no chance to counter.
But no defense can last forever.
After a series of heavy frontal blows, Jason's guard, focused on protecting his body, loosened slightly. Siham's rear straight shot through the opening, smashing directly into Jason's face.
Stars exploded in his vision, his mind spinning. Realizing how bad things had gotten, Jason immediately clinched, wrapping his arms tightly around Siham's neck and pressing in close, waiting for the referee to separate them...