Chapter 8: Clash of Titans

The morning sun painted the streets golden as Ippo and Alex made their way to the gym.

The younger of the cousins, Ippo, wore his usual determined expression, but Alex had an air of calm confidence about him. He walked with a spring in his step, every move deliberate, every gesture measured.

Unknown to everyone else, Alex's confidence wasn't just bluster. The night before, while Ippo and his mother were fast asleep, Alex had quietly pushed himself further. He shadow-boxed in the dim moonlight streaming into his room, focusing on perfecting his movements and increasing his template proficiency.

System Panel

[Template: Hitman Style - Training Progression]

Current Proficiency: 12%

Last Shadow Boxing Session: +1%

Time Spent Training: 8 Days

Recommended Focus Areas: Advanced Jab Mechanics, Body Feint Integration

Alex's lips twitched into a small smile as the system's words flashed in his mind. Eight days. Eight days in this gym, and I'm already moving like this. Not bad. He had spent the last week mastering the basics, reaching 11% proficiency, but the extra effort last night pushed him one step further. Every bit counted.

The gym was bustling when the cousins arrived. Fighters were scattered across the room, punching heavy bags, skipping ropes, and working mitts. But as Alex began his warm-up, the buzz shifted. Slowly, people started to gather around, their conversations fading as they watched the focused boxer.

"Look at him," one fighter murmured. "The guy's so calm, like he already knows he'll win."

"He's got that aura," another said, leaning against the ropes. "Like he's been doing this for years."

Ippo watched Alex from the side, admiration and a hint of envy flickering across his face.

Takamura smirked, watching the scene unfold. "He's good. No, he's really good. And all this in just over a week. Makes you wonder where he's been hiding this talent."

The Match Begins

The crowd grew silent as Alex climbed into the ring. Across from him, Miyata entered, his expression calm but his eyes sharp, analyzing Alex's every move. The two fighters met at the center, their gloves touching briefly in a gesture of respect before stepping back into their corners.

Kamogawa's voice broke the tension. "Keep it clean. No wild punches. I'll stop it if things get out of hand. Understood?"

Both fighters nodded.

The bell rang, and the match began.

Round 1: Testing the Waters

Miyata immediately adopted a southpaw stance, his lead right hand extended slightly, ready to counter. Alex responded by slipping into his Hitman Style, his left hand low and his right fist poised near his chin, his body angled defensively.

The first few seconds were a dance of feints and probing jabs. Alex's jab was lightning-fast, snapping forward with precision. Miyata, ever the counterpuncher, bided his time, slipping Alex's punches while gauging his rhythm.

Alex launched the first real offense—a double jab followed by a straight. Miyata stepped back just enough to avoid the straight, then countered with a sharp left cross. Alex tilted his head back, narrowly dodging the blow, and returned with a quick jab-hook combination.

The crowd erupted.

"Damn, that was fast!" someone exclaimed.

Miyata's father, watching from the side, furrowed his brow. "This Alex... He's no amateur."

Round 2: The Pace Picks Up

The fighters exchanged blows at a blistering pace. Alex's combinations flowed smoothly, double jabs setting up powerful straights and sharp hooks. Miyata answered with his signature counters, exploiting every minor opening Alex left.

At one point, Alex drove Miyata toward the ropes with a series of quick jabs. As Miyata ducked under a straight punch, he pivoted out, landing a clean right hook to Alex's ribs.

Alex winced but recovered instantly, stepping forward with another double jab and a lead uppercut that grazed Miyata's chin.

Kamogawa's stern face broke into a rare smile. "This is a fight."

Even Takamura, usually brash and playful, leaned forward, his grin replaced by genuine interest. "He's got timing and precision. Miyata might have met his match. And to think…he's been here just over a week."

Round 3: Fireworks

Miyata switched tactics, leaning heavily into his southpaw stance and throwing more feints to disrupt Alex's rhythm. It worked—briefly. Alex adjusted, using his jab to maintain distance and timing his straights to break through Miyata's defense.

The two clashed in the center of the ring, exchanging blows that had the crowd on their feet. Alex threw a devastating combination: a double jab, a straight, a pivoting hook, and a final jab to reset. Miyata blocked and slipped most of them but absorbed a solid hook to the body.

Miyata retaliated with a perfectly timed counter uppercut, snapping Alex's head back slightly.

"Whoa! Did you see that?" one spectator gasped.

"Neither of them's backing down!" another shouted.

The Stoppage

By the fifth round, the fight reached a fever pitch. Both fighters were sweating heavily, their movements slightly slower but still precise. Alex's stamina was remarkable, but Miyata's counters kept him cautious.

Finally, Kamogawa stepped forward, his voice booming. "That's enough!"

The bell rang sharply, and both fighters froze mid-motion.

"You're both too damn stubborn. If I let this go on, you'll injure yourselves," Kamogawa said, glaring at them.

The crowd erupted into applause as Alex and Miyata lowered their gloves and touched fists, their expressions a mix of respect and exhaustion.

Miyata's Monologue

As Miyata walked to his corner, wiping sweat from his brow, his mind churned.

He's good. Too good. His timing, his control, his adaptability… And he's only been here for eight days. It's like fighting someone who's been in the ring for years. If only…

Miyata glanced back at Alex, who was sitting on the ring steps, catching his breath but still exuding confidence.

If only we were in the same weight class… We could've been rivals.

Miyata's father placed a hand on his shoulder, breaking his thoughts. "You fought well, son. But Alex is something else."

Miyata nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "He is."

To Be Continued...