r18novel Page 154
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His coaching team retrieved countless videos of James Tony's fights in the middleweight and super middleweight divisions, and studied and analyzed them repeatedly.
The training focus is completely tilted:
Speed, rhythm, and precision.
Counter-attacking training:
The sparring partners imitated Tony's shoulder-raising defense and slippery footwork, constantly harassing, rushing in, and retreating after each attack, training Victor to make accurate counterattacks instantly after defending, rather than just blindly charging in.
Physical conditioning training: Tony is extremely good at wearing down his opponents' stamina.
Viktor's training has incorporated high-intensity interval training to ensure that even if he doesn't find a kill opportunity in the first few rounds, he can maintain strong offensive pressure in the second half of the match.
Abdominal resistance: Although he didn't believe Tony's heavy punches could knock him out, Victor still intensified his abdominal resistance training, as Tony's body punches were quite tricky and vicious.
Viktor's mindset was also undergoing subtle changes.
His initial surprise and disdain gradually turned into respect and vigilance towards this technical master.
He saw countless times in the videos how Tony defused crises with seemingly insignificant moves and how he neutralized his opponent's attacks with precise counterattacks.
"That's a real troublesome old fox,"
He would sometimes lament to Frankie, "But he made a mistake; he shouldn't have challenged me in the heavyweight division. My strength is something he's never experienced in any other weight class before."
······
SkyBetX's announcement took up half a page in the sports section of the Chicago Tribune, prominently displayed in bold black letters:
"A four million dollar bounty! Who will be the first to knock out Victor Lee in a professional match?"
Attached to the document is a photocopy of a notarized document, proving that the huge sum of money has been put into escrow by a third party, waiting for that lucky (or powerful) boxer to collect it.
At the bottom of the announcement is a photo of Victor Lee in the fight, his eyes sharp, his fist as hard as steel, striking his opponent's jaw.
Why four million dollars?
Because a renovation team in Chicago's South Side is worth exactly four million dollars!
The news immediately caused an uproar in the long-calm boxing world.
······
As everyone had predicted, the news spread throughout the American sports world within a week.
ESPN has been discussing the "four million dollar bounty" for several days, with experts holding differing opinions.
"Victor Lee is brimming with confidence; this is the boldest gamble in boxing history!"
One commentator said on the show.
Another person disagreed: "This is pure sensationalism and a desecration of boxing! Skybet and Victor Lee are just doing anything to gain fame."
Suddenly, the boxing world's '#400 million KO#' became a hot topic.
Someone posted highlights of Viktor's past knockouts, calling him "the invincible iron fist";
Some have also pointed out footage of him appearing slightly fatigued during his fight with Tyson, suggesting it was a "desperate move."
The boxers' reactions were even more direct.
"Four million? I'll make that kid taste the power of my right fist!"
Holyfield responded in the newspapers.
Oleksandr Usyk said in an interview: "Viktor is an excellent boxer, but he went too far this time. I would be happy to take the four million."
Even some welterweight and light heavyweight fighters joked about changing weight classes to try their luck.
Victor Lee's name suddenly became a household name, no longer limited to the small circle of boxing fans.
His fame skyrocketed within a week, even reaching other sports programs, such as local Chicago basketball, where people came to inquire about him and were publicly driven away by gunfire.
······
The week following the announcement, on September 30, Las Vegas was once again in the spotlight.
The MGM Grand Garden Arena was packed. As the announcer introduced James Tony in an exaggerated tone, the veteran, who was noticeably smaller than Victor, calmly stepped into the ring, his eyes sharp and steady, as if the surrounding roar of the crowd had nothing to do with him.
He was like a seasoned hunter.
At the pre-match press conference, Tony made no secret of his goal: "I'm not here to win on points, I'm here to get the four million."
Victor simply smiled and said, "Good luck."
The stadium was packed to capacity on the night of the match.
Normally, matches with this ranking would only fill half the venue, but today even the furthest seats were occupied.
The number of paid viewers also set a record for the highest number of viewers for a non-championship match of the year.
The game bell rang!
Before the first round's bell had even completely faded, Tony had already slashed into the center of the ring like a black lightning bolt.
Under the spotlight, his dark brown skin gleamed with an oily sheen, and his muscle lines resembled those of a finely sculpted Greek sculpture.
Viktor took a deep breath and assumed a traditional right-handed stance, his hands, clad in red boxing gloves, trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the energy that had been building up for three weeks of preparation and was now ready to be released.
James Tony is only 178cm tall, which is one of the few times when Victor can have an advantage in height.
"Remember, he's been promoted; he can't withstand your heavy punches!"
Coach Jack's pre-match instructions still echoed in my ears.
Victor struck first, tearing the air with a straight punch, followed by a powerful right hook that slammed into Tony's face like a cannonball.
A gasp erupted from the audience, everyone eager to see the three-time champion fall to a single blow.
But Tony disappeared.
No, not disappear.
He simply used an almost dance-like gliding step, lightly touching the ground with his right toe, and his body swung half a meter to the right like a pendulum.
The wind from the heavy punch ruffled the hair on his forehead, and the red boxing gloves were only two centimeters away from his cheekbone.
"A beautiful dodge!"
The commentator exclaimed, "Tony's footwork is practically gliding on ice!"
Viktor's pupils contracted slightly, and he unleashed a series of punches in pursuit:
Aim the left hook at the liver, the right uppercut at the chin, and the left swing to block the retreat.
Every punch was enough to knock down an ordinary opponent, but Tony's defense was an art form—he slightly raised his shoulder to block the hook, crouched to dodge the swing, and leaned back to avoid the uppercut. All his movements were fluid and graceful, as if he had anticipated every attack from Victor.
"His shoulders are like steel shields, damn shoulder defense!"
Viktor cursed inwardly, "It's impossible to penetrate!"
Tony began to fight back.
It wasn't a heavy punch, but three consecutive jabs, the gloves landing precisely on Viktor's brow bone, bridge of his nose, and lips.
It's not heavy, really not heavy, it's like being snapped by a rubber band.
But Viktor's anger was ignited—this was a blatant humiliation!
"Don't rush, Victor! Corner him!!"
Old Jack roared from the corner of the stage, his voice piercing through the clamor of the audience.
Viktor forced himself to take a deep breath, beads of sweat sliding down his forehead and glistening under the spotlight.
He noticed Tony's movement pattern: always circling clockwise, always followed by two small jumps after each dodge, and his left hand habitually drooping down three centimeters—this was the result of hundreds of hours of video analysis, and it was finally verified at this moment.
Victor feigned a forward charge, then suddenly changed direction and cut to Tony's right.
A right hook, infused with the full power of his body, roared out with perfect timing!
The dull thud of the boxing gloves hitting the skin sent the audience into a frenzy—but only Victor knew that Tony's shoulder had absorbed 70% of the force of that punch at the last moment.
Even more terrifying, the instant he retracted his fist, Tony's triple punch had already accurately struck his abdomen.
The sharp pain in his liver made him short of breath, so he had to hug him.
"Soft-belly punching bag".
Tony whispered in his ear, his warm breath filling his ear canal.
Viktor, enraged, swayed his hips, swinging Tony from side to side, before launching a powerful swing that grazed Tony's fist.
Tony, being small, was immediately pulled aside by the force, and then Victor was about to unleash a small combo.
But the bell that signaled the end of the first round saved Tony.
When he returned to the corner, Viktor's breathing was still erratic.
Old Jack pressed hard on the bruises in his abdomen: "Damn it, his body punches are like drills! Forget the head, attack the body!"
As the ice pack pressed against his brow bone, Victor caught a glimpse of Tony in the opposite corner—he was casually drinking water, the coach was whispering something, and Tony had a faint smile on his lips.
That composure reminded Viktor of a cat toying with a mouse.
At the start of the second round, Victor did not change his strategy.
He continued his powerful, wide-ranging punches and began using straight punches and jabs to control the distance.
Sure enough, Tony became more cautious in his movements.
After two probing exchanges, Viktor suddenly pressed forward, feinting a shot with his left hand, his real killing move being a strike with his right body.
The boxing glove struck Tony squarely in the ribs.
Cheers erupted from the audience!
Tony showed a pained expression for the first time and quickly stepped back to create distance.
Viktor pressed his advantage, unleashing a barrage of punches.
Just as a left hook was about to land, Tony suddenly ducked and dodged, the wind from the punch grazing his hair.
The moment Victor leaned forward, he saw a right uppercut coming from a hellish angle!
Time seemed to slow down.
Victor could see Tony's taut jaw muscles, the splattered sweat glistening like diamond dust under the light, as a tricky uppercut came hurtling toward his chin.