139 Is It Really Impossible To Fall? Combination Punches, Chasing, and Beating

Ye Chen was in the middle of a fierce battle while Covington adeptly executed counterattacks. They both ducked their heads in the direction of their respective back fists, positioning themselves so that their heads faced the same side at that moment.

The clash of elbows echoed in the ring.

Without a moment's hesitation, Ye Chen threw an uppercut. Though the uppercut lacked sheer force, it was delivered with remarkable speed. Given their current proximity, the strike range allowed either fighter a fair chance of landing a hit. At this critical moment, heavy punches mattered less than speed and precision.

Just as he prepared to unleash the uppercut, Ye Chen suddenly noticed that Covington had stepped on his foot. Under normal circumstances, it is nearly impossible to control an opponent simply by stepping on their foot, except perhaps in a scenario where an adult is manhandling a child. Yet, this tactic is surprisingly common in the heat of competition. Many fighters resort to subtle maneuvers like stepping on each other's feet to restrict mobility momentarily, thereby creating openings for powerful strikes.

In the split second when everything unfolds, such seemingly minor actions can yield significant results. For instance, if a fighter finds himself staggered by a punch, he might instinctively move his legs back to regain balance. However, with Covington's foot callously planted on his, this reprieve was stripped away, setting the stage for a potential downfall — a sequence likely leading to a takedown, ground control, and ultimately a fight-ending sequence.

"Boom!"

Ye Chen's uppercut connected solidly with Covington's jaw, who had no time left to dodge the blow. At this close range, he could almost see the contortions rippling across Covington's cheeks. Yet, astonishingly, Covington remained on his feet. There was a fleeting moment where he appeared dazed, his eyes momentarily devoid of their usual spark.

Covington had an opportunity to strike back. He aimed a punch at Ye Chen's head. Though not particularly powerful, the blow was delivered in the heat of confusion. Combined with Ye Chen's heightened adrenaline, he barely felt it, merely causing his head to shake slightly without substantial discomfort.

Seizing the moment, Ye Chen sprung into action, directing a precise hit to Covington's abdomen with his front hand. To his surprise, Covington suddenly clung to him. With arms tucked under his armpits and his foot positioned strategically for leverage, he attempted to twist Ye Chen to the ground.

Though this sequence seemed to drag on, in reality, Covington was already closing in, restricting Ye Chen's mobility just as the uppercut was thrown. In one rapid motion, Covington managed to latch onto Ye Chen.

Ye Chen's response was a fraction of a second too late, an eternity in the fast-paced world of combat sports. The moment Covington drew close, his center of gravity shifted, leaving Ye Chen vulnerable. By the time Ye Chen tried to reclaim his stance, it was already growing difficult.

Though headed for a takedown, Ye Chen reacted with instinct. He grasped the ring ropes, striving to maintain his balance, and knelt down on the leg that had momentarily lifted. With determination, he pushed himself back up.

Utilizing one hand for support, he clasped Covington's outside arm with the other. In that instant, he wrapped his supporting arm around Covington's lower back in a bid for control.

Covington, a seasoned NCAA first-team wrestler and past state champion, aimed to capitalize on his advantage. He seized the moment when Ye Chen hadn't yet regained full balance and pressed close again, using his right leg to wrap around Ye Chen's left leg for additional leverage.

Ye Chen wasn't invincible, nor did he possess the strength of a titan. Consequently, he found himself being flipped again. Realizing he had to stabilize himself, he relinquished his grip on Covington's lower back in an effort to brace himself.

"Snapped."

A sound echoed, announcing Ye Chen's imminent tumble to the ground. Yet after a series of movements, he managed to connect his knee with the ring, feeling immediate pain radiate through his joint. For wrestlers, the knees are particularly vulnerable.

Despite the discomfort, he had no time for hesitation. Rising the same way he had before would only invite Covington to take him down again, so he opted for a different strategy this time. In the meantime, Covington, still grounded, shifted his weight and loosened his grip, aiming to maneuver behind Ye Chen to seize his back.

Ye Chen had ample space and support to counterattack. With a powerful motion, he turned decisively to his left. Covington, who had been preparing to secure Ye Chen's back, was forcefully thrown off balance to the right side.

This swift shift nearly toppled Covington. In a scramble, he reached out, laying an arm down to stabilize himself as he nearly lost control.

Responding quickly, Covington pressed his calf against Ye Chen's supporting leg, attempting to undermine Ye Chen's balance.

In retaliation, Ye Chen pulled at Covington's supporting arm. In that moment, Covington was essentially anchored by his own arm and Ye Chen's armpit. It was a pivotal struggle, one where Ye Chen realized that if he could just disengage Covington's support, victory would be within reach.

Recognizing the impending danger, Covington let go of the grip, opting to break free and continue contending with Ye Chen. He understood astutely that the current position offered neither of them clear dominance, but Ye Chen's wrestling power provided him with the inherent advantage.

In the midst of all these skirmishes, Covington noted that both he and Ye Chen possessed different strengths in wrestling, with Ye Chen's foundational skills surpassing his own in many aspects.

A wrestler's acumen includes knowing when to strike against an opponent but most crucially, understanding the positions where one is at a disadvantage, allowing for timely evasion.

As both fighters stood, Ye Chen swiftly followed with a powerful backhand punch. Covington, just back on his feet, instinctively embraced and defended himself.

However, Ye Chen's swing was wide and dynamic. Despite landing the blow on Covington's arm, the shock was undeniable; blood began to flow from Covington's nose as if a faucet had been opened.

Ye Chen seized this pivotal moment. Before the full swing of his right hand even touched down, he found an opening and delivered a straight punch into the gap created by Covington's defensive posture.

The strike landed squarely beneath Covington's jaw, just where the mandible meets the cheekbone. Covington was struck into a daze, doubled over in an instinctive reaction, clutching his head in confusion as Ye Chen executed a series of follow-up punches.

With his opponent teetering on the brink, Ye Chen threw a straight jab at Covington's face, following it up with a punishing uppercut. If he could land a hook at this moment, it would swing the momentum decidedly in his favor, potentially leading to a knockout.

"Snapped."

The sound rang out as Covington endeavored to maintain his hold, though Ye Chen felt he had broken through the defense. Covington, overwhelmed and retreating with his head down, evaded visibility, prompting Ye Chen to press forward relentlessly.

Undeterred, Ye Chen continued his assault with a rapid-fire combination of jabs, swings, hooks, and counterattacks. It was imperative to maintain precision; wild swinging would not suffice here. He varied his attacks, rendering Covington's defenses unpredictable.

Alongside the necessity for accuracy, the rhythm of his assault was critical, pressing forward relentlessly until Covington found himself overwhelmed, on the verge of submission.