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Today wasn't supposed to turn out like this.
He was in the middle of sand covered arena in a large dome stadium. The benches of the stadium were filled with onlookers behind a tall blue wall. In front of Johan stood a s.h.i.+rtless lean muscular man with brown hair. a large HD TV hung over them displaying their fight and flying ball cameras recorded their every move.
Today morning Johan's plan seemed so cut and dry. He warned Luisa and the others about the dangers that were coming, got back to Kru Bu's gym, and was transported to his match. It was supposed to be an easy win. This was Johan's first fight in the tournament.
Then things took a twist for the unexpected.
Johan's original opponent had been killed pre-tournament and as a result, he got rea.s.signed to a new opponent. A n.o.body, at the last minute. Yet, Johan who had dominated all his matches in the inner city against other gyms was being played around with as if he was a child!
"This guy," muttered Johan. "Who the h.e.l.l is he?"
The crowd cheered excitedly.
This fight was turning out to be more interesting than they expected.
"Is that all you got after spending so much time training here?," said the man standing in front of him. "I expected more after how much Guang Hui hyped you up."
"JOHAN IS CLEARLY OUTCLa.s.sED," yelled an announcer over the speakers, "BORIS NIKOLIC IS PLAYING WITH HIM AS IF HE WERE A CHILD!"
"You know Guang Hui!?," yelled Johan jumping away from the man and creating distance. "Who in tarnations are you!?"
Boris stepped forward. He wasn't strong nor was he unusually fast. In fact, after having seen Genghis and Athelion's fight, it was as if his opponent was moving in slow motion. The issue was, that despite this, Johan couldn't see his attacks until they hit him.
Furthermore, the attacks Johan threw were all read and redirected!
"Your attacks are straight forward and readable," said Boris. "You don't think more than two moves ahead ... you fight on pure emotion. Furthermore, you lack creativity in your attacks when you are put on the spot. If you are among the best this city has got, I don't see why everyone is so annoyed with you."
"Who are you?," asked Johan again.
"The Guangs were really upset after you joined the tournament without telling them," said Boris with a smirk. "They pulled some strings to have me teach you a lesson After all they did for you, this is how you repay them? Spoiled brat."
Technique, thought Johan.
This must be what Kru Bu meant. Perfect technique.
Johan didn't know who this man was, or where he came from, but he wasn't the type of person to give up.
What was Boris doing?
It was clear that Johan was much stronger than him physically.
Boris wasn't feinting or creating movements to distract him. The reason why Johan was getting hit was because of the lack of signs of an attack. Lack of extra motions people normally gave off to indicate an attack was coming and generate power.
His opponent's shoulder didn't twitch when throwing a punch. Furthermore, the angle the punch came at was so aligned with his field of vision, that it seemed like the man's fist and body didn't make big moves until it hit him. Then on contact, Boris's body would snap channeling a ton of force into Johan. With many of his attacks, he would block Johan's vision or hide his attacking limb with another one of his body parts. A hand or forearm to block Johan's vision, throwing punches to distract Johan from seeing a kick. At times he would use Johan's own guard against him and attacking from blind spots created by it.
The way Johan's opponent attacked seemed similar to tactics used by magicians. Concealment and misdirection.
The end result was that the moment Johan saw the attack, his body was too slow to move out of the way to dodge or block it.
This was the power of Boris's technique.
But it didn't stop there. The combinations Boris threw seemed to predict Johan's next move and use Johan's momentum against him causing Johan to eat constant powerful counters.
Johan came to the realization that Boris was clearly a better technical fighter and strategist than him. He was outcla.s.sed in every way. But, he refused to give up. That wasn't in his personality.
"You fight like a bar room brawler," laughed the man. "An idiot that doesn't know how to use his head! You got nothing but brute strength!"
The man's word's stung, because Johan could see the truth in it. He felt like he was reliving his first fight with Beiber all over again.
But then again, this wasn't his first real match. Furthermore, this wasn't the first time he had been outcla.s.sed.
BOOM!
The sand underneath Johan's feet exploded as he lunged forward.
He charged at his opponent, continuously weathering the storm of attacks sent his way. With every charge and change in direction, the sand underneath his feet would explode leaving a crater. Yet Boris continued to counter elegantly.
CRACK!
"Grunt!"
BOOM!
"Umph!"
BANG!
"Urgh!"
Boris skillfully avoided Johan's charges while sending strike after strike at him. Boris wasn't strong, his attacks had power due to technique.
Johan bit down on his mouth guard and once again charged forward, turtling up to cover up his vital spots.
CRACK!
BOOM!
BANG!
[I'll start with one hit,] thought Johan. [For now one hit will be my goal. Then I will aim higher.]
Johan's lungs burned like fire, but he pushed through the exhaustion, biting down and bracing his muscles to take a hit. His face was swelling and his body bruised. He looked like a marshmallow with his swollen eyelids and cheeks. His broken fist had swollen to twice its original size.
CHARGE!
BOOM!
Counter kick!
CHARGE!
Missed!
CHARGE!
Counter punch!
An explosion of sand flew out from the force of Johan's movements, and the attacks he withstood from counters could be heard throughout the stadium.
"LOOK AT THIS KID'S RESILIENCE!," yelled the announcer, "IT HURTS JUST TO WATCH! I'VE NEVER SEEN A PERSON TAKE A BEATING LIKE THIS FOR SO LONG AND REMAIN STANDING!"
Technique verses conditioning.
Johan hadn't spend a year training past exhaustion to simply give in now.
To think that he would meet an opponent like this in Looking Gla.s.s City. Johan was glad. The combat experiences he had learnt of in the higher realms weren't enough to bridge the gap and give him a clear technical advantage against a mere teenagers. Prodigies existed. Now he had something to aim for that was within reachable grasp.
Johan memorized and pondered every strike. a.n.a.lyzing and chewing it as if it were a fine meal.
[He is only human,] thought Johan, [he can't keep this up forever.]
Then the moment Johan had been waiting for came. Boris's strikes had started becoming sloppy. There were more indications of a strike being thrown. But still, it wasn't slow enough, Johan waited. He endured. He knew with an opponent of this skill, he would have to remain cautious. He didn't know how much reserves or inner willpower Boris had left. High levels and mastery of skill, didn't come without atypical and harsh training.
GASP!
Boris was drenched in sweat from Johan's constant charges. Continuously throwing hits wasn't easy. Everyone's endurance had a limit. Boris was no different. He finally was showing signs of wear.
"You sure can take a hit," laughed Boris, who was now also drenched in sweat. "But you should give up, you are clearly outcla.s.sed!"
Boris threw a punch, but this time it was slow.
[NOW!,] thought Johan.
Johan jumped straight into Boris's fist, using his forehead to prevent the punch from fully extending. Then he countered with his own punch with his good fist.
CRACK!
For the first time in thirty minutes, Johan's fist had connected with Boris ... it was a solid and unexpected punch. Johan had connected with Boris's cheek using a gazelle punch. His fist followed through driving into Boris's face throwing him to the sand floor.
Boris slid across the sand leaving a trail behind him.
"HA!," yelled Johan as the flame of hope reignited within him.
ONE HIT!
Johan had managed to connect successfully accomplis.h.i.+ng his goal!
"That!," yelled Johan, "is how you use you head."
Johan spit out blood from his mouth into the sand.
The crowd went wild cheering at the sudden turn of fight. The eyebrow-less underdog had won with one strike to a technically superior opponent simply because of his strength and resilience gap.
Boris sat up, surprised.
"This isn't good," said Boris, "I guess it is time I got serious with you."
Boris started to wiping the sweat off of his forehead
Johan charged forward throwing his knee at the man's head.
CRACK!
It connected. With a person of this skill, Johan couldn't let his guard down. He had to capitalize on every opportunity.
The man collapsed onto the sand. Unmoving. Boris's forearm was clearly broken and his jaw unhinged.
Paramedics ran onto the field and took the man away on a stretcher.
"WINNER BY KNOCKOUT!," roared an announcer over the speakers, "JOHAN FLINT!"