‘I’m not done yet, not yet,’ with that Clint planted his feet in the ground, his staggering coming to a halt, an uproar spewing from the crowd. Rate could feel his body shiver, they were 5 rounds in and Clint was hanging in, the fight he’s always wanted. He could feel the energy shaking through his entire body as he threw his next punch, he could feel every vibration as it connected with Clint’s jaw, yet Clint stood firm, unmoving, as if the punch hadn’t been there. Rate stared into his eyes, dropping his guard for a second seeing the unyielding fire burning in his eyes. A second was all that Clint needed, as he went on the offense, planting a punch into Rate’s stomach, lifting the man off the ground. Rate could feel the breath involuntarily leaving him, as Clint followed up with a strong overhead punch, knocking Rate out of the air and dropping him on the mat. The crowd became even more riled up, the audience’s roar was deafening, but Clint couldn’t hear it, only the sound of his heart racing and his breathing was reaching his mind.
“1!” The count began and Rate was taken aback. This was the first time he’s hit the mat in his entire career. “2!” Rate shook off his newfound shock and began to stand back up, only for his legs to buckle, and to go back down. “3!” Rate stared and the man in front of him, the fire in his eyes consuming Rate. He could feel electricity going down his spine just from the man’s stare. He needed more of it. The first challenge he’s ever had since stepping into the ring has just presented itself, and Rate has found himself more fired up than ever before. He wasn’t going to let such an opportunity pass him.
“4!” Rate gathered his strength and stood before the crowd, raising his hand up, before extending it towards Clint. The ref checked over Rate briefly, before allowing the fight to resume, yet Rate never broke this pose. Clint approached Rate, matching his gesture as their gloves touched, and a sly smile from the both of them broke out as the ring exploded with energy. A flurry of jabs and straights were being thrown by both parties, a series of bobs and weaves swaying through them. Their battle was monstrous, two freaks brawling it out in the ring. The crowd ate it up, their cheers never dying. Clint ducked under one of the straights, body ready to throw a deadly uppercut, but before he could even straighten, his face was greeted by full power left, thrown diagonally from the ground. It left Clint staggered as Rate followed up with a hook with the same hand that left Clint barely standing. Rate was throwing straight that ever so slightly missed, as Clint retreated away from him. And with that, the 5th round concluded.
The two fighters returned to their corners, their coaches spewing information and motivation to aid their fighters, but it fell on deaf ears, the only thing that existed to them in this moment, was themselves, the other and the sound of the bell.
Round 6 started off explosive, Clint immediately throwing a hook directly into Rate’s gut, and Rate answering with straight to the face. Neither monster backed down, as they continued to slug it out in the middle of the ring. The sounds of each punch echoed in the ring, but were drowned by the restless crowd cheering. Rate was always a crowd favorite, but this new rookie who’s stormed the ranks was putting on just as much of a show. Clint had managed to push a lead onto Rate, landing more and more blows, his fist constantly speeding up more and more, soo forcing Rate to go fully defense, Clint’s barrage driving him back. ‘More, more, more more, more!’ Rate thought to himself, as he slipped out of Clint’s assault. Rate had adapted his style to fit more under the traditional sense of boxing, but Clint was enough of a challenge for him to really cut loose, and fight how he always has. Rate dropped his guard, arms slumping to his side as he let his body hang forward, his face staring directly at Clint, almost as if asking him to swing. And swing he did, Clint threw a hook that caught nothing but air. He had missed Rate entirely, who’s now slumped over backwards, defying gravity as he prepared a punch, from this positioning, hitting Clint directly in the jaw, dropping him immediately. Rate recovered from this position rather quickly, returning to his previous position. The count hadn’t even started and Clint was back on his feet, and the match proceeded. Try as he might, Clint was unable to touch this monster, Rate dodging all his punches in the most untraditional ways possible, and countering from impossible angles. ‘Give me more Clint. I know you have more,’ Rate thought to himself as he went on the offense, driving Clint into a corner. He began to wail on him with a constant string of left and right hooks, never missing a beat. Whenever Clint tried to retaliate, his punches were effortlessly dodged, with Rate never dropping his offense barrage.
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‘What a monster,’ Clint thought to himself, as he held his guard up, trying to negate as much damage as possible as he tried to think of a way out of his predicament. He had grown weary at this point in the match. He wouldn’t be able to continue tanking through Rate’s punches, especially not with seemingly increasing in power. With no other options available, Clint threw himself at Rate, holding him in a clinch as he walked him out of the corner. Rate drove a series of blows into Clint’s kidney, but the man never stopped until he drove them into the center of the ring, ever so swiftly releasing Rate and stepping back from the man. Rate refused to give him breathing room, and began to continue his assault on Clint, weaving under one of his punches, only to be hit by another one thrown at the same instance. Rate’s odd position left him very little room to catch himself, and he found himself beginning to slip, but Clint decided to send him down with some oomph, hitting with another overhead punch, bouncing the man off the mat. Rate found himself nearly losing consciousness on impact, but managed to withstand it.
“1!” And so began the count for the second down in his entire career. “2! 3! 4! 5!” Rate had decided that may as well fully ‘act up’ in this match. Clint was nowhere near skilled enough to beat him quite yet, but maybe leaving him with a good impression will motivate him to climb even more. “6!” Rate stretched as he stood, popping his neck and approaching Clint, standing almost face to face with him. The match continued and Clint immediately staggered backwards. He didn’t even see Rate move, but now he could feel his nose that his nose had broke and there’s blood trailing down his face. Clint tried to play it safe, playing at his max range as he waited to recover from his daze, but Rate was back in his face, a wicked smile spread across his face as Clint got hit twice more, one to the kidney and the other to the jaw. Clint’s breath gave out as he started to fall forward, only to be caught by more punches from Rate, all heavy, and all driving him back up. Clint found himself somehow balanced on his feet again, staring into the face of a true monster. With what remained of his strength, he threw a straight at Rate, but before it was even half way there, his world had gone dark.
“The winner of tonight’s bout, is our reigning champion, Rate!” The crowd cheered for the champ as Clint found himself once more. He tried to move, but his body wouldn’t respond, as he was rolled out on a stretcher. “Good job Clint!” “Don’t quit yet!” “We’ll be rooting for ya next time Clint!” he heard the praise from the audience as he was rolled out. A sly smile took his face as he thought to himself. ‘I’ll just have to get even stronger.’