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Novel Catalog
Chapter 138
The coach turned his gaze toward the ring, lips curling in contempt. “I taught Bianca to defend first, then strike. Conserving energy before finding an opening is wise.”
Nash’s eyes remained impassive, but his tone dripped with irony. “So your plan is to let her absorb every hit? If Black Widow truly unleashed herself, Bianca wouldn’t last this round.”
The coach’s scowl deepened. “I’ve wasted too much breath on you already,” he spat.
“I’ll correct you,” Nash replied evenly. “You’re foolish—but I’m not.”
By the end of the third round, Bianca still hadn’t scored. Black Widow had amassed thirty-two points, nineteen of them in a single onslaught. Bianca’s nose was bruised, and her cheeks had swollen under the relentless barrage.
The referee hurried over, speaking rapidly in a foreign tongue as he assessed Bianca’s condition. She panted and offered a thumbs-up. The medical officer at ringside gave a thumbs-up in return, and the referee nodded.
“Matches here run six rounds,” he announced haltingly in the common language. “After a thirty-minute interval, you will resume for the final three rounds.”
Bianca slid back from the ropes, following her coach toward the waiting room. Skadi appeared with a steaming towel for her face, while Hera guided her to a chair. Nash drew up a seat of his own and gently eased Bianca’s swollen arms.
Bianca flushed with embarrassment at his touch. He was Hera’s boyfriend, after all, and it felt strange to receive such personal care from him. Hera squeezed her hand reassuringly. “His massage is exceptional. It eases pain and brings down swelling faster than any cream.”
Nash applied his knowledge of holistic medicine—pulse diagnosis, acupressure, and dry-needling—all techniques that often required close contact. He worked his inner energy into Bianca’s muscles, and gradually the redness faded, the heat receded.
Before Bianca could voice her astonishment, Nash spoke quietly: “Black Widow held back in those opening rounds. If she had attacked at full strength, you might not have risen after the first bell.”
At this, Coach Grande’s temper flared anew. “You’re lying to impress her! I’ve put up with you long enough!”
Skadi’s frown silenced him. “That’s enough.”
Bianca raised a hand. “Coach Grande, let him finish.” She realized Nash spoke truth: in rounds one and two, Black Widow had restrained herself, gauging Bianca’s defenses.
The coach’s face flushed with indignation. “This—this pretender knows nothing!” With a furious snort, he ripped off his coaching badge and tossed it onto the table. “I resign. Don’t ever call on me again.”
Bianca’s eyes flickered with disappointment as she stared at the discarded badge.