The Boxing System: I Became the King of the Ring-Chapter 19: Jamal vs Tommy II

"Stick to your plan, Tommy."

Miguel crouched beside his fighter, voice steady despite the chaos. Tommy collapsed on the stool, his chest working like bellows. Sweat poured from his hair onto canvas already slick with moisture.

"Don’t take his bait. Three minutes, that’s all. Move and box."

Tommy nodded, water spilling down his chin. His hands trembled.

Across the ring, Danny’s voice, Jamal’s coach, boomed over crowd noise. "You hurt him! Press forward! Don’t give him air!"

Jamal bounced on his toes, eyes sharp with hunger. Ready for the kill.

The ten-second buzzer sounded. Miguel yanked the stool away.

"Time to work," Miguel said.

Tommy rose. The crowd’s roar hit like a physical force.

*************

The bell cut through the noise.

Jamal exploded from his corner. No more testing. No feeling out. He smelled blood.

Tommy barely raised his gloves before Jamal’s right hand crashed into his guard. The impact sent shockwaves up his arms.

"Come on!" Jamal snarled.

Tommy backpedaled fast, sneakers squeaking against canvas. Jamal stayed with him step for step, punch after punch.

A vicious left hook slipped Tommy’s guard and buried itself in his ribs. Tommy’s mouth opened without sound. Pain shot through his side like electricity.

He lunged forward, wrapping arms around Jamal’s waist.

"Break!" the referee barked, pushing them apart.

Tommy stumbled backward, already gasping. Thirty seconds in and he was drowning.

"Box smart!" Miguel’s voice cut through noise. "Use those feet!"

Tommy tried circling left, hunting for space. Every time he moved, Jamal was there. Cutting angles. Herding him like livestock.

Another combination thundered into Tommy’s guard. Jab, cross, hook. The hook snuck through and rattled his headgear like a bell.

Stars exploded behind Tommy’s eyes.

The crowd went wild. Kids pressed against the ring, screaming. Veterans leaned closer, shouting advice that disappeared in the chaos.

"Move, Tommy! Get out!"

"Finish him! Put him down!"

Tommy found half a second to breathe and snapped out a desperate jab. It caught Jamal square on his headgear. Clean and sharp.

Jamal’s head jerked back. He smiled wider. Getting hit made him happy.

He kept coming. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Halfway through the round, Jamal put together his best work. Picture-perfect combination that would make any trainer proud. Left to the head - pop. Right to the body - thud. Tommy’s knees turned to water.

For a terrifying moment, he might go down.

The judges straightened, pens dancing across scorecards.

Tommy’s legs held. Through pure stubbornness, he fired back with a jab that had nothing behind it. Arm punch. Survival mode.

The crowd smelled blood. They got louder.

The final minute was torture. Tommy’s legs felt like concrete. Every step fought gravity. Jamal sensed it and turned up heat.

He trapped Tommy on the ropes and let his hands go. Left, right, left, right. Tommy covered tight, gloves glued to temples, elbows protecting his body.

Leather smacked against leather. The sound echoed through the gym.

Then something beautiful happened.

Jamal got greedy. He wound up for a massive left hook, a very obvious one. Tommy saw it coming in slow motion.

He ducked under the wild swing and came up with a perfect left hook. It caught Jamal clean on his headgear with a sharp crack.

The crowd went silent for half a heartbeat. Then it exploded.

Jamal’s eyes went wide. Nobody had ever hit him that clean since he started training.

Champions don’t stay surprised long. Jamal shook his head and came back with fury that forced Tommy to cover until the bell rang like salvation.

"Time!"

************

Tommy collapsed onto his stool like cut puppet strings. Blood dripped steady from his nose, turning his white mouthguard pink. His chest heaved like he’d sprinted flights of stairs.

Miguel was already there with a towel and swab, working fast, dabbing at blood.

"Listen to me," Miguel said, cutting through Tommy’s exhaustion. "You’re still in this fight. That hook you landed? Perfect timing. Beautiful punch."

Tommy’s eyes struggled to focus. Sweat mixed with blood on his face.

"Can’t feel my legs," Tommy mumbled through his mouthguard.

"Your legs are fine. It’s your head that’s tired." Miguel squeezed Tommy’s shoulders. "Don’t stand in front of him anymore. Make him chase you. Move, counter, move again."

"He’s too fast."

"He’s getting wild. You saw it - that’s why your hook landed. He’s leaving obvious gaps."

Across the ring, Danny was all energy and noise. "One more round! One more round and it’s over! Stay on him!"

Jamal bounced on his stool, nodding rapidly. He still looked fresh and hungry.

Javier pressed closer to the ring, searching for Vicente. The ghost materialized beside him, arms folded.

"This is what I like," Vicente said, eyes bright with excitement.

"Tommy’s getting destroyed," Javier whispered.

"He’s getting educated. Different thing entirely." Vicente studied Jamal’s corner with professional interest. "That kid can punch, but look at him. Too amped up. Making mistakes."

"Doesn’t look like a mistake to me."

"That wild hook Tommy countered? That was a mistake. Jamal’s getting emotional, trying to impress the crowd. Champions stay calm."

Javier watched Tommy struggling to breathe. "Think he can pull it out?"

"Tommy’s already won something tonight. Win or lose this round, he’s shown he belongs. That’s worth more than any trophy."

The timekeeper held up the ten-second warning. Crowd noise swelled.

Miguel grabbed Tommy’s chin, forcing eye contact. "Last round. Three minutes. Give me everything left, then you can rest for a week."

Tommy blinked hard, trying to clear his head. Blood still leaked from his nose.

"Can you see okay?" Miguel asked.

"Yeah."

"Dizzy?"

"A little bit."

Miguel studied his fighter’s eyes. No severe damage. Just the fog of exhaustion and accumulated shots.

"Okay. Last dance. Make it count."

Miguel pulled the stool away. Tommy pushed himself up on rubber legs. But something had changed in his face. The glazed look was gone.

Pure determination had taken its place.

"Let’s finish this," Tommy said.

The final bell rang and both fighters came out cautious. Exhaustion showed in every step. Their shoulders sagged. Punches came slower.

The whole crowd was in a frenzy waiting for the final round, some already debating whether the little kid still had a chance to pull this round back, while the others were Jamal all round.