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Chapter_228
Bianca’s mastery of Mike’s signature moves had become undeniable. Wanda, puzzled and distracted, questioned herself—could Bianca have trained under Mike? She recalled his words: he had never taught anyone else. But it didn’t matter now; the fight was unfolding before her, and Bianca’s precision was razor-sharp.
Seizing the opportunity, Bianca struck swiftly. A left hook connected with the right side of Wanda’s face before she even had a chance to react. The crowd gasped. Three more straight punches followed, landing on Wanda’s chest with devastating force. The blows were quick, accurate, and ruthless—each punch creating afterimages in the air as they connected. The impact of each strike caused Wanda to stagger, her body reeling from the intensity of the blows.
The final jab hit Wanda’s head with such force that, had they not been wearing gloves, it would have undoubtedly caused a concussion. The punches were a testament to the lethal power Mike had instilled in his students. Bianca, having learned his techniques, was now applying them with terrifying precision.
From the side, the Grim-Faced Juggernaut’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing in both concern and anger. She stood up abruptly, moving toward the octagonal cage with the speed of a striking serpent. The room seemed to freeze as she reached the door and gripped the iron frame with her gnarled hands, preparing to intervene.
But before she could act, Nash’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist in a vice-like grip. His calm voice sliced through the tension. “Old lady, what are you doing?”
The Grim-Faced Juggernaut’s inner power surged into her arms as she attempted to break free, but Nash’s grip was unyielding—like steel. She struggled, but the harder she tried, the more futile it became. Nash exerted the slightest amount of force, and with a sharp twist, he dislocated her right shoulder. The sound echoed through the air.
Before she could react, Nash struck again, sending the Grim-Faced Juggernaut hurtling through the air. She landed hard, crashing ten meters away, coming to a stop at Simon’s feet. His face went pale with fright, and he rushed forward, kneeling to help her up.
“A-Are you alright?” Simon stammered, panic written all over his face.
The Grim-Faced Juggernaut, clutching her chest, looked up at Nash in sheer disbelief. She had not expected him to attack her—especially not with the brutal efficiency he had displayed. He was a boxer, but she was one of the Green Bamboo Association’s 10 Juggernauts, a title earned through years of mastering martial arts. Was he not afraid of her?
Nash’s lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with cold confidence. “This is a fight between boxers. Should you, a martial artist, be participating?”
His words stung, and it was clear that he viewed this as more than a fight—it was a statement. If she had been practicing an external martial art, Bianca might have had a chance to defeat her. But as a practitioner of internal martial arts, the Grim-Faced Juggernaut’s strength was formidable—she could have killed Bianca with a mere finger. Yet here she was, on the ground, defeated by a boxer.
Inside the octagonal cage, Wanda had lost her focus, her gaze flickering over to the scene unfolding outside. Her distraction was enough for Bianca to take full control of the fight once again.
Bianca’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t about to let up. Wanda had tried to kill her—there were no rules here. This was a battle for survival, and Bianca wasn’t a saint.
With fierce determination, Bianca drove Wanda to the ground, unleashing a relentless flurry of punches. She knew no mercy; Wanda had shown none, and Bianca wouldn’t show any either. She fought back with all the power she had, her fists like hammers striking down.
“Stop! Stop! I give up! I give up!” Wanda cried, her voice barely audible through the pain. Her body was battered, her head spinning, and fear flooded her gaze. She realized too late that she had underestimated Bianca.
But Bianca didn’t stop. The final blow came in the form of a vicious punch aimed at Wanda’s throat. Bianca poured every ounce of her strength into the strike, her fist connecting with a sickening force. Wanda’s head snapped back, her body collapsing into the floor with a sickening thud.
The power behind the punch was enough to crack the floor beneath them—wooden boards and asphalt buckled under the impact. Bianca’s glove tore apart from the sheer force of her strike.
Wanda lay there, gasping for breath, her head swollen from the blows. Her eyes were filled with a terror that no one in the ring had seen before. She had won 52 consecutive boxing matches, but now, all of that meant nothing.
Bianca stood over her, chest heaving as she caught her breath. She had been tested, pushed to the limit, but in the end, she had proven that she was more than capable of surviving this fight. The ring was silent, the outcome unmistakable.
Would you like to continue exploring the aftermath of the fight or delve into another character’s reaction?