Chapter 22: You're Bleeding Again (Please Add to Your Favorites)

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"Boss! Boss! The score for the second round is out!"

In an office inside the stadium, Andy was on the phone when his assistant burst in shouting.

"What's the score?"

Andy put down the phone and asked.

"76:53."

The assistant replied.

"This kid Richard is quite something, managing to hold on this long. Let's go congratulate Montel."

Andy said, holding a cigar as he walked out.

"Wait, boss, the match isn't over yet."

The assistant said.

"It's not over? It's a best of three, and Montel has won two rounds. Why is there a third round?"

Andy asked, puzzled.

"No, Richard won the second round, scoring a total of 76 points."

"What? What do you mean, Richard won?"

Andy couldn't believe his ears. "Are you joking? Richard was beaten to a pulp and almost got KO'd. How could he come back in the second round?"

"It's true. At the beginning of the second round, both fought fiercely with no clear winner. But Montel's brow ridge injury got worse, and the referee called for two timeouts to treat it.

When he returned, Montel kept using his right fist to protect his brow ridge, reducing his offensive moves. His right fist was also less effective, allowing Richard to counterattack and score points on Montel's face, eventually winning the second round."

The assistant explained.

Andy pinched his big nose, at a loss for words. A guy who had never fought professionally was holding his own against a professional champion. Richard was something else.

"Do you think Richard has a chance to win?"

"It's hard to say. Richard took a lot of punches and is exhausted. It's uncertain how long he can last. Montel's brow ridge injury is severe and might affect the match."

"Let's go see!"

Andy put on his hat and walked back to the stands.

---

"Richard, you're amazing!"

"Richard, you must win!"

"Richard, undefeated god!"

After the second-round score was announced, the crowd's cheers didn't stop. Everyone was shouting madly, making the atmosphere incredibly lively.

"Richard, how are you? Can you finish the third round?"

Alvin was massaging his calves, while Dr. El and Paul were loosening Richard's arms, and Anthony was awkwardly massaging his shoulders.

"Don't worry, I've only used up half my stamina."

Richard leaned against the post and smiled.

"You're bluffing. You look exhausted, yet you're still talking big."

Paul said cheekily.

"I can still do a backflip. Believe it or not?"

"If you do a flip, I'll call you grandpa!"

"Alright, grandson, watch your grandpa flip!"

Richard jumped up and did a perfect backflip on the spot.

"Wow~"

The crowd erupted in astonishment. His stamina was impressive.

"Gisele, you'll surely be very happy in the future!"

Angela said, winking.

"What do you mean?"

"Richard's so fit. In bed... hahaha, don't tickle me, I won't say anymore."

Angela laughed uncontrollably.

Bang~

On the stage, Richard did another flip, glanced at Montel, and turned to Paul, "Call me grandpa!"

"Grandpa, how come you're so white and I'm so black?"

Paul grinned.

"Maybe I'm not your real grandpa."

Richard smirked.

"Enough! You two!"

Alvin yelled, stopping the antics.

Opposite, Montel watched the scene, his eye twitching. Is this guy a beast? After two rounds and so many punches, he's still lively. Was I punching air all this time? This is so insulting.

He touched his injured brow ridge, gritting his teeth.

Ding ding ding~

The first round of the third set began.

Richard and Montel walked to the center of the ring.

"Montel, I owe you an apology."

Richard said, looking at Montel's brow ridge, "Your technique is so good, I had to resort to this strategy. But don't worry, in the third round, I won't target your brow ridge. I want a direct fight."

"Hmph, were the first two rounds indirect?"

".I meant we'll compare speed and strength, not brains."

Richard tapped his head with his glove.

"What do you mean, you're saying my brain isn't as good as yours?"

Montel's face darkened.

"No, I mean your brain might not work as well as mine."

"."

Montel blinked. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"Yes, it's the same."

"Ugh~"

Montel clutched his forehead, the veins on his head pulsing, and the treated brow ridge showed signs of bleeding again.

"Ah, Montel, you're bleeding again!"

Richard exclaimed.

"Shut up!"

Montel reflexively touched his brow with his glove. It hurt.

"Get ready to fight!"

The referee glared at Richard, focusing particularly on him. Are you here to box or to argue?

Richard smirked. There are no rules against trash-talking. It's an art too, you know?

"Box!"

The referee waved his hand and quickly stepped back.

"Kill!"

Montel roared, charging like a beast unleashed from its cage.

"Good move!"

Richard danced on his feet, moving to the right.

Bang bang bang~

"Damn it, didn't you say you wouldn't hit my brow ridge?"

"Do you believe everything said in the ring? Naive!"

"."

Montel trembled in anger.

Bang bang~

Richard seized the opportunity to launch a quick attack, landing two sharp punches on Montel's brow ridge.

"STOP!"

The referee intervened, separating the two and turning to check Montel's injury.

At this point, Montel's face was covered in blood, his brow ridge swollen, and his right eyelid was puffed up, with red liquid flowing down.

"Montel, I'm sorry!"

Richard felt a bit guilty.

Montel glared at him angrily, not believing a word from him anymore.

"Step back!"

The referee pushed him away and spoke to Montel, signaling for a short timeout.

Montel retreated to his corner for treatment, while Richard also returned to his corner to rest.

---

"Haha, Richard, those two punches were fantastic. I dare say no one in professional boxing can throw jabs faster and harder than you."

Paul laughed.

Richard shook his head. The precision of those hits was mostly due to his trash-talking. True skill lies in the fists. A boxer ultimately relies on his fists.

"Richard, don't feel burdened. In the ring, within the rules, any tactic is fair game. Exploiting your opponent's weaknesses to injure them is your skill. No one will blame you."

Alvin advised.

"I understand!"

Whoosh~

The referee blew his whistle, signaling Richard over.

"What's up?"

Richard put on his gloves and walked over.

(End of the chapter)