?Chapter 677:

    As the Boxing King studied Christina’s lean frame, a crazy thought crept into his mind. Could this woman standing before him actually be the legendary Boxing Queen? The idea hit him like a punch to the gut, but he shook his head violently. No! Impossible.

    Rumor had it the Boxing Queen had been assassinated for refusing to cooperate with behind-the-scenes maniption. If she were truly still alive, she wouldn’t have vanished after winning just one fight. No one in their right mind would walk away from that kind of spotlight, especially when she was at the peak of her sess and could have made millions.

    Money and fame were like drugs. Once someone got a taste, giving it up was nearly impossible. Wealth, power, and status—the holy trinity everyone spent their lives chasing like hungry wolves.

    The Boxing King shook his head, forcing the ridiculous thought away. The woman before him couldn’t possibly be the legendary Boxing Queen. Everyone in the underground fighting world believed she had been dead for years.

    “I offered you an easy way out, but you’re too stubborn to take it,” the Boxing King’s voice dropped to a menacing growl. “Don’te crying when I break every bone in your body.”

    “Come on then, big guy! Throw your best shot so we can wrap this up and I can go home.” Christina stretched her arms above her head as if she were lounging by a pool instead of facing down a killer.

    The Boxing King’s face turned red with rage at her casual attitude. Heunched his fist forward like a cannonball, the punch cutting through the air with a vicious whoosh that promised serious damage.

    The crowd held its breath, certain they were about to watch Christina getunched across the ring like a rag doll.

    Just when the massive fist was about to connect with Christina’s face and turn it into hamburger meat, she slipped to the side with lightning-fast reflexes.

    The Boxing King’s fist hit nothing but air. He immediately fired off another punch, but Christina danced away from that one too, moving as if she were made of smoke.

    Every punch looked like it would connect and end the fight, but Christina dodged them all with split-second timing that defied belief.

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    “Holy shit! Look at her move! She’s like a damn ghost out there!” someone shouted from the crowd, their voice filled with amazement.

    “So what if she’s fast? She’s not throwing any punches back. All she’s doing is running around like a scared rabbit.”

    “What the hell is this bullshit? Actually fight each other! I didn’t pay good money to watch some guy chase a woman around the ring! This is pathetic! Throw some real punches!”

    The crowd was growing restless, their shouts and curses rising like a wave of hostility crashing against the ring.

    Eloise sat stiffly, her hands clenched into tight fists as she stared at the stage. Every time the Boxing King hurled a brutal punch at Christina, her heart leapt in terror—each blow that narrowly missed felt like it had been aimed at her own chest. Her breath caught, stuck somewhere between hope and panic. Elliott was no better. Tension gripped him like a vice, his jaw clenched and eyes locked on the ring. He couldn’t look away, not even for a second.

    From what he could see, Christina wasn’tnding a single hit. She was fast—very fast—darting just out of reach each time, her footwork wless. But that was all she was doing: dodging, weaving, dancing around the mountain of muscle that was the Boxing King. Without striking back, without offense, it didn’t matter how graceful her defense was. She’d be ruled the loser.

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