CHAPTER 52: CHAPTER 52: QUARTERFINAL WAR - JERKINS VS JAVIER I

Chapter 52: Quarterfinal War - Jerkins vs Javier I

The crowd pressed forward, voices building to a roar that bounced off the walls.

Both fighters surged toward center ring, sneakers squeaking against canvas. Jerkins bounced on his toes, establishing jab range with predatory precision. Javier hunched forward, craving the fight already, looking to crash inside where his swarmer style thrived.

Their first collision sent shockwaves through the gym. Gloves met with violent pops that echoed off the walls. The sound made spectators wince.

Jerkins unfolded his signature combination with beauty - the jab, jab, cross. The first jab snapped Javier’s head back, sweat flying. The second caught his chest protector with a dull thud. But the cross exploded against his headgear like a sledgehammer.

Pain shot through Javier’s skull. His knees dipped, legs suddenly heavy. Stars burst behind his eyes while the crowd gasped. Sweat stung the cuts around his mouth guard.

[ENDURANCE: 21/100 → 20/100]

[DEFENSE +0.1, CURRENT: 17.1/100]

Vicente materialized at ringside, his ghostly form blazing with urgency. "Get inside! Make him fight dirty!"

The ghost’s voice cut through the crowd noise. Canvas trembled under both fighters’ explosive movement as they reset, breathing hard already.

Javier could taste blood now, metallic on his tongue. The lights above too bright, making everything sharp-edged. His heart hammered against his ribs.

Following Vicente’s command, Javier changed tactics. Instead of walking into Jerkins’ jab, he started weaving like a snake. Slipping punches by millimeters, feeling the wind from missed shots. His pressure became relentless, forcing Jerkins to backpedal.

The canvas felt slippery under their feet, marked with wet spots where other fighters had bled and sweated earlier.

Jerkins established his deadly rhythm. Double jab to control distance, then explosive right hands when Javier committed forward. Each power shot was perfectly timed, his footwork keeping him at optimal range.

When Javier ducked low, Jerkins drove an uppercut that whistled past his ear. So close Javier felt the leather brush his skin beneath the headgear. The crowd collectively held its breath.

[AGILITY +0.1, CURRENT: 27.2/100]

[UPPERCUT SKILL +0.1, CURRENT: 24.3/100]

[ENDURANCE: 20/100 → 18/100]

"Work, boys! Work!" someone shouted from the crowd. Cameras flashed from the back, catching each brutal exchange.

Midway through the round, Javier timed Jerkins’ jab perfectly. He slipped inside like lightning, his left hook driving into Jerkins’ ribs with brutal force.

The wet thud echoed through suddenly quiet air. Jerkins’ mouth snapped open behind his mouthguard, spit flying. Air rushed from his lungs in a sharp gasp that the front row could hear.

Pain flashed across Jerkins’ face. He immediately wrapped his arms around Javier, desperately trying to smother the inside attack. His breathing came heavier now, quick desperate puffs against Javier’s ear.

[HOOK SKILL +0.1,CURRENT: 31.4/100]

[STRENGTH +0.1, CURRENT: 23.8/100]

[FOOTWORK +0.1, CURRENT: 29.7/100]

The smell of sweat mixed with the sharp scent of the blood. Javier could feel Jerkins’ heart pounding through their chest protectors during the clinch.

The referee stepped in, thick hands pushing them apart. "Break! Box!"

Jerkins unleashed his most dangerous combination yet. Jab split Javier’s guard like an axe. Cross pounded his chest protector, driving breath from his lungs. Hook caught him flush on the temple with a sound like a baseball bat hitting wood.

The crowd erupted. "OHHHHH!"

Javier’s vision blurred. His legs turned to rubber for a heartbeat. But he fired back immediately, instinct taking over.

Body hook that made Jerkins grunt and double over slightly. Uppercut that grazed his chin, snapping his head back. Overhand right that thudded into his shoulder with meaty impact.

Both fighters were marking each other now. Red welts showed through their headgear where clean shots had landed. Javier’s left eye started to puff.

[CROSS SKILL +0.1, CURRENT: 33.2/100]

[POWER +0.1, CURRENT: 19.4/100]

[RING IQ +0.1, CURRENT: 22.1/100]

[ENDURANCE: 18/100 → 16/100]

The final minute saw both fighters at full intensity. Heat radiated from their bodies. Steam rose from their shoulders in the cold gym air.

Jerkins maintained his boxing masterclass, peppering Javier with sharp combinations while staying mobile. His feet never stopped moving, always at the perfect distance. Each punch landed with the precision of a surgeon’s knife.

Javier though applied constant pressure, making Jerkins carry his weight in clinches. Landing short shots that accumulated damage. Every time they got close, Javier leaned his full weight into Jerkins, making him work harder.

"Thirty seconds!" the timekeeper called out.

Canvas showed wet spots where sweat had pooled. Both fighters’ faces glistened under the bright lights that made everything look surreal. The crowd leaned forward in one time, sensing the violence building.

Blood trickled from a small cut above Javier’s eye, mixing with sweat.

[JAB SKILL +0.1, CURRENT: 37.8/100]

[DEFENSE +0.1, CURRENT: 26.9/100]

[TECHNIQUE +0.1, CURRENT: 25.4/100]

The bell rang sharp and clear, cutting through the noise. Both fighters retreated to their corners, chests heaving. The sound of their breathing filled the sudden quiet.

Jerkins maintained composure but showed slight fatigue - his shoulders rose and fell more rapidly than before. Sweat dripped from his chin onto the canvas as he walked.

Javier burned with determination despite absorbing the punches. His left eye showed swelling where Jerkins had caught him clean. He spat into the bucket, checking for blood.

The canvas between them told the story. Dark patches of sweat and small drops of blood from minor cuts. The ghost of their violence written on worn fabric.

Miguel worked rapidly with ice and towels, his hands steady despite the intensity. Cold water ran down Javier’s neck, making him shiver.

"You got inside but didn’t stay there long enough." Miguel’s voice was urgent, breathless. "When you slip his jab, throw three punches minimum before he can reset."

He pressed ice against Javier’s swelling eye. The cold burned. "Lean on him in the clinches. Make him carry your weight."

Javier nodded, gulping water. His breathing slowed gradually as Miguel worked, hands shaking slightly from adrenaline.

Vicente appeared beside them, no longer formal. "He dropped that left hand every time he threw the right! You saw it? Counter over the top - boom!"

The ghost mimicked the timing with sharp, violent movements.

Across the ring, Jerkins’ corner maintained confidence. His trainer applied ice while giving calm instructions, but there was new concern in their voices. They recognized Javier’s inside success.

Jerkins nodded but breathed slightly harder than before. The body shots were adding up, taking their toll. He touched his ribs gingerly when he thought no one was looking.

The ten-second warning buzzer cut through the gym noise. Miguel pulled the stool away and gripped Javier’s shoulders, his calloused hands warm and reassuring.

"Two more rounds. Make him fight your fight."

[ENDURANCE: 16/100 → 19/100]

[READY FOR ESCALATION]

Javier stood, rolling his shoulders. His body ached like he had been hit by a truck, but his eyes burned with determination. The crowd noise built again, anticipation crackling through the air.

Across the ring, Jerkins pushed off his stool, ready for war. His eyes met Javier’s across the blood-stained canvas.

The referee called them forward. Round two was about to begin.

This time, both fighters knew exactly what they were facing.