บท 21: Chapter 21: Richard's Scheme
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As the match progressed, the fight on the ring became more intense. Many people's voices were hoarse from shouting, and the atmosphere in the stadium was even more explosive.
"Richard, you're the best!"
In the audience, Susan swayed her plump body and danced the samba with her girlfriends.
In the match against the champion, the fact that Richard could last until the fourth round without being knocked out was beyond many people's expectations, and this alone was enough to make her proud.
"Come on! Can't you use a bit more force? Would it kill you to raise your fists higher?"
Below the ring, Paul was intently watching the two fighters, muttering to himself while his arms, shoulders, and neck moved as if he were in the fight.
"Paul, who are you cheering for?" Anthony asked.
"Of course, Montel. I placed my bet on Montel."
As he spoke, Alvin glanced over, and Paul quickly covered his mouth, "Hehe, just kidding. Go, Richard! Go, Richard... oh, Nooooo!"
"No, no, no!"
At that moment, a cry of shock erupted from the crowd.
Just as the fourth round was about to end, something happened on the stage. In a clinch, Montel suddenly landed a heavy punch right on Richard's face.
Richard fell flat on his back on the ring, drawing a wave of gasps from the audience.
The referee immediately stopped the fight, squatting down to start the count, "8, 7, 6..."
"Come on, Richard!"
"Richard, get up!"
"Richard, don't fall asleep!"
In the stands, hundreds of people stood up, shouting and yelling, nearly blowing the roof off the stadium.
"Come on, Richard!"
In the audience, Gisele clenched her fists. She had never attended a live boxing match before and thought watching two people hit each other wasn't interesting.
But after coming to the event, the tense and exciting atmosphere made her unable to help but shout herself hoarse, and she broke out in a layer of sweat.
Seeing Richard fall, her heart clenched.
"Come on, Richard!"
Angela shouted, "Gisele, should we move to the front?"
"Sure!"
Gisele didn't hesitate and quickly moved to the front row.
"Wow, Richard's up!"
"Richard is standing up!"
"Hahaha, Richard is amazing!"
Before they reached the front, the crowd erupted into cheers, laughter, applause, and cursing. Everyone was excited.
Gisele looked up and saw Richard standing in front of the referee, pounding his chest and bouncing a few steps to prove he was okay.
"That jerk scared me to death."
Gisele laughed, clutching her chest.
"Didn't you say you believed in him and weren't worried?" Angela blinked and said.
"I didn't know boxing matches were so intense."
"Haha, you should get used to it. Richard will be in many more fights in the future."
"Em, I think it will be hard for me to get used to it."
Gisele said softly.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the fourth round of the first set. Richard and Montel retreated to their corners to rest.
"Richard, can you continue?"
Alvin and El were checking his face. After four rounds and taking seven or eight hits, despite the gloves reducing the impact, his face still showed obvious marks.
"Don't worry, I'm fine!"
Richard spat out his mouthguard and grinned.
"Fine? You just fell flat on the ring and didn't move for seven or eight seconds. I was ready to call for a coffin."
Paul said, showing his white teeth.
"Get lost!"
Before Richard could speak, Alvin glared at Paul with a look that could kill.
"El, is Richard's nose okay?" Alvin asked.
"It's not serious."
Dr. El checked and looked at him strangely.
Richard chuckled, "No need to be surprised. When I leaned back, most of the force from that punch was neutralized, and I didn't pass out."
"Then why did you lie on the ground for seven or eight seconds?"
Alvin frowned.
"We were going to lose the first set anyway, so why not make it more dramatic? Didn't you hear the cheers from the crowd?"
Richard smiled.
"You were faking? You were acting?"
Alvin clenched his fists, seething with anger.
"Don't get excited. Boxing is a sport but also entertainment. Everyone comes to watch me fight. If it's too dull, it would disappoint the audience."
"You... you're crazy. This match is equivalent to a semi-final for the light heavyweight championship, and you were acting in such a situation?"
Alvin gritted his teeth, not knowing how to scold him.
Richard shrugged, "It's not my fault. Before the match, there were rumors that Montel's punches were terrifying. But after facing him, I realized that with my speed and resilience, his punches were not that impressive."
"Not that impressive?"
Alvin laughed angrily, "Then why are you beaten up like this? Look, the score for the first set is out, and you lost by twenty points."
"Hehe, don't worry. My counterattack is about to begin."
The bell rang again, and the first round of the second set started.
Richard put on his gloves and mouthguard and walked to the center of the ring for inspection.
"Hehe, you're quite something, taking so many punches without going down. You should consider a career in professional boxing."
Montel said.
"Yes, after I knock you out, I'll go professional."
"What?!"
Montel widened his eyes, "You think you can beat me? Hahaha, you lost the first set by twenty points, and I beat you to a pulp. You still dream of winning?"
"Why not?"
Richard raised an eyebrow, looking at Montel's brow ridge. The right side was obviously more swollen and red than the left, with an oily sheen from treatment.
"Montel, does your brow ridge hurt?"
"What do you mean?"
Montel frowned, which pulled at the wound on his brow, causing him to grit his teeth.
"It's simple. After watching your match footage, I noticed that your right-hand defense has a flaw, making your right brow ridge prone to injury. In ten matches, it gets injured three times.
So, my plan against you is to use jabs to constantly attack your brow ridge, hitting you until your face is covered in blood, forcing you to give up the match. So what if you won by twenty points in the first set?
Just now, I landed twenty-one effective punches, eleven of which hit your brow ridge. That's precise targeting. How's that? Is it accurate? Does it hurt?"
"You!"
Montel was unusually angry, raising his fist to punch Richard, but pulled back at the last moment, gritting his teeth.
Richard secretly regretted it.
"Ref, he's threatening me. Doesn't that count as a foul?"
The referee glanced at him. Enough, with what you just said, even I want to punch you. Do you still feel wronged?
"Ready!"
The referee stepped back, raised his right arm, and chopped down hard.
"Box!"
Richard raised his fists and started bouncing on his feet.
"Watch out, I'm going to hit your brow ridge!"
"You damned kid, if I don't beat the crap out of you today, I'm not Montel!"
Montel was furious and for the first time initiated an attack on Richard.
The second set started with both fighters clashing fiercely, the punches landing hard and fast, louder than any previous round.
The crowd was ecstatic. Watching a boxing match, the worst thing is when both fighters keep testing and dodging without engaging directly.
But Richard and Montel's match was exciting. Both were excellent in offense and defense, making every round thrilling.
The audience's voices were hoarse, and their hands were red from clapping. Those with bottles were pounding them on the seats.
After trading punches, they quickly separated.
Richard touched his cheek, having just taken another hit. He grinned, looking at Montel, and tapped his brow ridge with his glove.
"It hurts, doesn't it? Bleeding a lot, huh?"
Richard laughed lightly.
Montel's eye twitched, and he couldn't help but squint.
That bastard kept targeting his brow ridge, making it sting and throb. Was the stuff flowing down his face blood?
"Attack!"
Richard shouted and charged.
Montel squinted again, raising his right fist to guard his brow ridge.
Can't take more hits!
Too much bleeding, and the referee would stop the match, declaring a TKO in favor of Richard.
Seeing his movement, Richard grinned. Champion, you fell for it.
Boom boom~ boom boom~
(End of the chapter)
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