The Boxing System: I Became the King of the Ring-Chapter 22: Javier vs Devon II

Devon came out of his corner with the same smooth confidence from round one. Light on his feet, hands loose, looking to pick up right where he’d left off. His corner was probably telling him to stick to the game plan.

Box. Move. Score points. Win easy.

But Javier didn’t give him the chance to settle in.

Instead of charging forward like a bull, Javier stayed composed. He’d learned something in that first round. He used a subtle shuffle step—fake left, step right—drawing Devon’s automatic counter.

Devon’s jab shot out on instinct, but Javier was already moving. He slipped under the punch and suddenly found himself in perfect position.

[FOOTWORK +0.1]

[CURRENT: 63.3/100] 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

For the first time all night, Devon looked surprised.

Javier didn’t hesitate. He drove forward and buried a right hand deep into Devon’s ribs, just under the chest protector. The shot landed with a meaty thud.

Devon’s mouth opened behind his mouthguard. His eyes went wide. He took a full step backward—the first ground he’d given up all fight.

[BODY SHOT LANDED: TARGET STAGGERED]

[STYLE BONUS: SWARMER +2%]

The crowd felt the shift immediately. The energy changed. Kids started bouncing in their seats.

"There we go!" Vicente shouted from ringside, ghostly form animated. "That’s what I’m talking about!"

Devon tried circling away, getting his distance back. But Javier was ready this time. He cut off the ring, angling to his left, forcing Devon toward the corner.

This time his footwork felt right. Natural. Like all those shadowboxing sessions with Vicente had finally clicked.

Devon snapped out a quick jab, trying to reestablish his range. Javier saw it coming and slipped left. The punch whistled past his ear.

His counter right hand found the same spot on Devon’s ribs. Devon grunted softly, the sound barely audible over the crowd.

[POWER +0.1]

[CURRENT: 61.1/100]

"Javi! Javi! Javi!" The chant started small but grew louder.

Javier felt momentum shifting like a tide. Devon wasn’t floating anymore. His feet were heavier. His movements were less perfect.

They met in the center and started trading punches. Short, choppy exchanges. No room for Devon’s technical boxing. Javier leaned his weight into Devon, making him carry the extra load.

This was where Javier belonged. In close. Physical. Making it ugly.

Devon tried tying up, wrapping his arms around Javier’s waist. But Javier broke free clean and stepped back just enough to throw.

The left hook came from his hip, short and vicious. It caught Devon flush on the side of his headgear.

CRACK!!!

The sound cut through gym noise. Devon’s head whipped to the side. His legs went loose for a heartbeat.

[CLEAN STRIKE LANDED]

[HOOK SKILL +0.2]

[CURRENT: 58.5/100]

[TECHNIQUE +0.1]

[CURRENT: 64.1/100]

The crowd erupted. People jumped from their seats. Someone screamed "OH SHIT!" loud enough to hear over everything.

Vicente was pounding the ring apron. "That’s it! He’s hurt! Don’t let him recover!"

Devon’s confidence cracked like glass. For the first time, panic flashed in his eyes. He immediately grabbed Javier, clinching desperately.

The referee stepped in. "Break it up! Step back!"

They separated, but the damage was done. Devon’s perfect composure was gone. His hands were lower. His footwork were choppy.

"Box!" the referee shouted.

Javier didn’t need the invitation. He walked Devon down like a hungry animal. Every step forward, Devon took one back.

The roles had completely reversed.

Javier mixed up his attack now. Body shot, head shot, body again. Devon couldn’t predict what was coming next. His defense was breaking down.

[RING IQ +0.1]

[CURRENT: 46.0/100]

Devon tried getting his boxing back. He threw a combination—jab, cross—but his timing was off. Javier slipped the first punch and caught the cross on his gloves.

Then Javier fired back. A quick two-punch combo that both landed clean. Pop, pop.

The judges were leaning so closely now while also writing furiously now. This was a different fight than round one.

"Stay on him!" Miguel shouted from the corner. "He’s breaking!"

Devon was against the ropes now, covering up while Javier threw combinations. Not wild shots, but controlled aggression. Each punch had a purpose.

[STRENGTH +0.1] [CURRENT: 68.1/100]

The crowd was going crazy. This was the war they’d come to see.

With thirty seconds left, Javier landed the shot of the fight. Devon came forward with a desperate right hand, trying to change momentum.

But Javier saw it perfectly. He stepped to his right and threw a counter right hand that met Devon coming in.

The collision was ugly. Devon’s forward momentum met Javier’s punch head-on. The impact echoed through the gym.

Devon’s knees buckled. He stumbled backward, arms windmilling, trying to stay upright.

[OPPONENT STATUS: STAGGERED] [CROSS SKILL +0.1] [CURRENT: 61.7/100]

The referee took a step closer, ready to jump in if Devon went down.

But Devon was tough. He grabbed the ropes and managed staying on his feet, shaking his head to clear it.

Javier pressed forward for the finish, but the bell rang before he could land another shot.

CLANG!

"Time! That’s it! Step back!"

The gym shook with noise. People were on their feet, screaming, whistling, pounding on walls.

Javier raised his gloves to the crowd, chest heaving but eyes blazing with confidence.

Devon stumbled back to his corner, no longer the smooth boxer from round one. His perfect composure was shattered.

Javier walked back to his corner with his head high. His chest rose and fell hard, but his eyes burned with something that wasn’t there in round one. Confidence.

The crowd was going absolutely crazy. "JAVI! JAVI! JAVI!" echoed through the gym like thunder.

Devon made it to his stool on unsteady legs. His perfect hair was messed up now. Sweat poured down his face. The calm, technical boxer from round one was gone.

Miguel grabbed Javier by the shoulders, shouting over the noise. "That’s how you change a fight! You broke him down!"

Javier dropped onto his stool, breathing hard but grinning. Miguel worked fast with water bottle and towel.

"How you feeling?" Miguel asked.

"Good," Javier panted. "Really good."

Vicente appeared beside them, ghostly form more solid than ever. "You cracked his confidence. He’s fighting scared now."

"What do I do in round three?" Javier asked between gulps of water.

"Same thing you just did. Press forward, stay aggressive. Don’t let him box." Vicente’s eyes were intense. "He’s going to try surviving now. Don’t let him."

Across the ring, Devon’s corner was pure chaos. Danny was talking fast, making desperate gestures. Devon nodded but his eyes were distant. Shook up.

The three judges huddled around their table, comparing scorecards. One round each. Dead even going into the final round.

"Finish him, brother!" Tommy’s voice cut through everything else. The group home kids were all on their feet, screaming.

The ten-second warning buzzed. Miguel pulled the stool away.

"This is it," Miguel said, gripping Javier’s shoulders. "Three minutes. Leave everything in there."

Javier stood up, rolling his shoulders. His body felt loose now. Ready. The nerves from round one were completely gone.

Devon pushed himself off his stool across the ring. He tried looking confident, but Javier could see right through it. The kid was rattled.

The referee stepped to the center, waiting.

"Round three!" he called out. "Final round! Box!"

The bell rang one last time.

Everything they’d worked for came down to the next three minutes.