88 Knee To The Liver, Dirty Punch Combo

On the other side, Xiaoying's two cousins helped Maha apply ice to his injuries while massaging his muscles to help him relax. Mendes and Kitty stood directly in front of him. Mendes casually remarked, "Islam, you always manage to complete all the training I lay out for you and do so exceptionally well. You've implemented our tactics flawlessly in the ring, and this time will be no different. Do you understand? Everyone is anticipating the moment you claim the championship belt. You cannot afford to lose."

Makhachev's confidence remained intact despite the burgeoning pressure from Ye Chen. For the first time, uncertainty clawed at him. In previous fights, regardless of the challenges he faced, he always believed he would win. Yet now, Ye Chen had toppled him in his strongest discipline, controlling the match for nearly an entire round. It's a feeling that most people cannot comprehend—being confined in one's own area of expertise at the peak of one's capabilities. Nevertheless, he nodded resolutely; this match had to be won.

At that moment, Khabib chimed in, "Islam, my brother, you cannot afford to lose. This fight is not just for yourself; you have a plethora of skills still hidden from view. You've yet to employ many of our strategies, and there is so much more you are capable of in that ring. Understand? You simply cannot lose right now. You need to showcase your power to Ye Chen and everyone watching."

Khabib's determined gaze uplifted Maha's spirits. He believed wholeheartedly that victory was within arms reach. Maha's eyes mirrored that conviction. He thought of his coach, Khabib's father, who may no longer be with him but whose words still resonated: "Train hard, and one day you will become a world champion." He had achieved that goal, and now he was determined to defend his honor.

Meanwhile, at Ye Chen's home, everyone exchanged puzzled glances. Many admitted they didn't fully grasp the rules of the fight. Initially, the match unfolded quickly; only two to three minutes had passed before wrestling commenced, leading to ground control for the remainder of the round. A confused crowd murmured, "Lao Ye, what's happening? Shouldn't Xiaochen have won the first round? How many more rounds can there be?"

Ye Jianguo's furrowed brow reflected his confusion. While he had a semblance of understanding about mixed martial arts, as he somehow managed to grasp punches and kicks, the complexities of MMA eluded him. "I see them pressing people to the ground, throwing no punches for ages. I can't make sense of it. Longlong, do you understand?"

Eyes turned to the youngest person in the room. Yang Wenlong, who shared the same age as Ye Chen, had stayed home due to some physical inconveniences. He was often persuaded by Ye Chen to lend a hand. Yang scratched his head, admitting, "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure either. But I watched some earlier fights online after Xiaochen played. It looks like they can hit the opponent almost any way they want, except for eye-gouging or kicking below the belt. You can wrestle or box; that's mixed martial arts for you."

Everyone exchanged bewildered looks, piecing together his insights. "Ah, so that's it." They observed the wrestlers grappling and tussling, noting how it resembled brawls they had seen in their village.

"That's true. While watching videos online, someone mentioned that Xiaochen's matches resemble real combat. Now it all makes sense; it's exactly how we see fights unfold in real life—everyone entangled in a struggle."

"It doesn't matter how it play out, though; Xiaochen is remarkable. Who around here has made it onto the sheep list?" another chimed in.

A frown crossed Yang Wenlong's face as he considered the situation. The reality was, unless someone had trained in combat, most untrained folks just flail about throwing wild punches and kicks. Yet, inevitably, they would find themselves grappling and rolling around until one party ended up on top.

As the second round began, both fighters continued to test each other. Ye Chen noted a newfound determination in Makhachev's eyes. Not many had taken him to the second round in his eight prior matches. Usually, opponents found themselves dazed and confused by then—everyone except Makhachev.

This round, Ye Chen emphasized a standing tactical approach, but with a mission to increase his pace. Makhachev, having exerted considerable energy in the previous round, would likely want to recover while remaining on his feet. However, Ye Chen was keenly aware of Makhachev's vast ground experience; recklessly engaging there could spell disaster for him.

In a previous match, he had used Makhachev's own trip against him but realized that the same could backfire. Recalling an event where Kitty Hawk faced an opponent who managed to take him down, it underscored the unpredictable nature of the game.

Returning to the present, Ye Chen launched a series of fast, precise jabs punctuated by quick circular movements, shifting his footwork to the left of Makhachev. He had concocted this strategy during a brief reprieve. Drawing inspiration from Mayweather's ability to confound Pacquiao, he understood that stepping around helped evade Makhachev's counterattacks.

The incessant jabs not only frustrated Makhachev but also drained his stamina, forcing him into defensive maneuvers. Ye Chen harried him continuously, making it challenging for Makhachev to create any distance. Should Makhachev attempt to escape, Ye Chen would pursue relentlessly.

"Bang, bang, bang!" The punches landed precisely, thanks to his wingspan advantage. Makhachev was struggling to match his rhythm. Ye Chen's accuracy was noteworthy, making it arduous for Makhachev to land any effective strikes.

"Bang, bang." After a flurry of jabs, Makhachev retaliated with a backhand swing, striking Ye Chen's frame. But Ye Chen pressed on, tapping and prodding as Makhachev seemed momentarily rattled. Indeed, no amount of varied combinations compared to the simple effectiveness of thrusting.

The onlookers were captivated at this moment, witnessing Ye Chen take control; Makhachev found it difficult to land even a touch against him.

D.C. commented, "Ye Chen's strategy is genuinely impressive. He is capitalizing on his reach, systematically wearing Islam down. If this keeps up, Makhachev could find himself in serious trouble. The cumulative effect of those jabs can't be underestimated."

Reflecting on his own rivalries, he recounted how dirty punches had disrupted top competitors in the past. Bisping interjected, "This tactic frustrates the opponent to no end. It creates an urgency to strike, leading them to make mistakes."

Rogan added, "Ye Chen has a remarkable ability to adapt. After just one round, he devised a strategy that effectively counters Makhachev. If he ever retires and chooses coaching, he might become one of the best trainers in the world."

Meanwhile, Mendes and little Eagle (CJ be) wore worried expressions; they were perplexed by Ye Chen's ingenuity and adaptability. The tactics they had crafted for Maha seemed to dissolve by the second round.

"Islam, push in and strike. Break his momentum; standing toe-to-toe with him is futile. He's wearing you down and conserving his energy. Plus, his standing game matches yours," Xiaoying urged, realizing they needed to change tactics to survive.

Makhachev recognized the urgency in Xiaoying's exhortation and ducked under Ye Chen's jab as he pushed forward, unleashing a sudden punch aimed at Ye Chen's head, and following it up with a well-placed strike to the body. The blows connected unexpectedly, stunning Ye Chen and sending shockwaves through him.

Despite feeling dazed, Ye Chen advanced forward, and as Makhachev swung, the impact sent shock through Ye Chen's arms, amplifying his resolve to stay standing. Both fighters, driven by instinct and urgency, spun around each other with fierce intensity, and as Ye Chen pushed himself into the exchange, he launched a counterattack that caught Makhachev off guard, landing clean strikes that briefly knocked him off his rhythm.

Makhachev felt the sting of blood flow from a punch that connected solidly with his face. As the audience erupted for their favorite fighter, Ye Chen rallied but was still wrestling with the aftereffects of the round. The tension in the arena heightened, and as the judges' focus intensified, all eyes were fixed on the impending rounds, where strategies would either bring glory or unravel under pressure.