Serrano tries to create distance, but his legs no longer carry him far enough. Within seconds, he is forced to stop retreating altogether.

He simply holds his ground and tightens his guard, waiting for the pressure to arrive.

Aramaki immediately gets to work, rotating through a stream of short hooks.

Thud! Thud! Dug. Dugh. Bugh! Dug. Thud!

Most of them target the body. Serrano stays behind a tight guard, blocking and absorbing, offering no counters and showing no interest in forcing another exchange.

"Look at him," Ryoma says. "If Serrano is really fine, why did he stop trading punches? Why did he suddenly become so disciplined about defending?"

Nakahara reluctantly admits there is some truth in what Ryoma is saying. Even so, he refuses to abandon his pragmatism.

"What if they’re simply waiting for Aramaki to get tired?" Nakahara says. "What if Serrano plans to beat him up later?"

"Maybe," Ryoma shrugs. "But if he doesn’t fight back, Aramaki won’t stop until the final bell. When it comes to endurance... that guy is a monster."

In truth, this is exactly the strategy Kirizume wants. He knows Serrano’s condition, and he knows what the smartest path to victory looks like.

Serrano has controlled the fight for nine rounds. At this point, surviving until the final bell is the best option available.

On one hand, it protects his lead on the scorecards. On the other hand, it forces Aramaki to chase the fight more aggressively, tempting him to exhaust himself in pursuit of a knockout.

Either way, Kirizume is convinced the champion will still leave the arena with his belt.

"Aramaki just keeps marching forward!"

"He’s cutting the ring down step by step and forcing Serrano closer and closer to the ropes!"

"And look at the champion now! Both gloves are glued to his head!"

"Serrano isn’t giving Aramaki anything clean, but he’s spending an awful lot of time defending!"

"The pressure is becoming relentless!"

"And Aramaki doesn’t look interested in slowing down at all!"

***

However, there is one thing Kirizume failed to account for. Serrano’s arms were never forged for this kind of discipline.

Earlier in the fight, it was Serrano rebelling against the structure. Now that he is finally willing to embrace it, his arms are the one rebelling instead.

The high guard demands a level of endurance and repetition that Serrano never truly cultivated. And after rounds of punishment, his shoulders and arms are beginning to betray him.

Gradually, the strength in Serrano’s guard begins to fade, and a hook slips through and cracks against his jaw.

THUCK!

His head snaps to the side, but Serrano immediately rebuilds the guard.

The next punch slams into his glove.

DUG!

But the block no longer has the same firmness behind it and another hook sneaks through the opening.

DHUACK!

Serrano’s head jerks backward. His gloves drop a little lower.

Aramaki immediately drives a straight down the middle. Serrano leans away toward the ropes, but...

DSH!

...the punch still catches his face.

"It’s getting through now!"

"Look at Serrano’s head snapping back! Those shots are no longer hitting the gloves!"

The ropes spring Serrano forward, and he instantly ties Aramaki up.

"Why won’t you just stay down?"

But even the clinch lacks its usual strength. Aramaki yanks his left arm free, dips his level, and buries a brutal punch into the body.

BUGH!

Pain flashes across Serrano’s face. But more than the pain, it’s the irritation of having Aramaki standing between him and Ryoma that pushes him closer to the edge.

"This isn’t the fight I came for."

"I beat you, then I come for him."

Aramaki shoves him toward the ropes, creating just enough space to drive a heavy right hand.

Serrano brings up a double guard, but...

DHUACK! 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

...the punch still splits the middle and snaps his head backward.

"Another one got through!"

"Aramaki is punching straight through the guard now!"

For a brief instant, Serrano’s vision flashes white. But the grudge burning inside him only grows stronger.

This fucker...

Why are you the one standing in my way...

Aramaki lowers his stance again and buries two punches into either side of the body.

THUD! THUD!

"Aramaki isn’t letting him breathe!"

"The punishment just keeps piling up!"

Serrano immediately traps Aramaki’s head beneath his armpit, trying to stop the assault.

From the corner, Kirizume’s voice comes without the slightest hint of panic.

"Good work, Serrano. Hold him there. Let him exhaust himself."

But Aramaki keeps hammering away at the ribs with his left hand.

BUGH! BUGH! BUGH!

The pain, the frustration, and the irritation of realizing that even someone like Aramaki could hurt him this badly finally push Serrano to his limit.

Finally, Serrano snaps, and every instruction Kirizume gave Serrano during the break vanishes from his mind.

"Enough, motherfucker!"

With Aramaki’s head still trapped beneath his armpit, he gives a violent pull and spins in a half-turn, ignoring the referee warning.

"Hey, Serrano! Stop it!"

The rotation rips Aramaki off his feet before Serrano throws his weight down on top of him.

BOOM!

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

"SERRANO JUST THREW HIM TO THE CANVAS!"

The impact shakes the canvas as both men crash to the floor in a move that looks more suited to a wrestling ring than a boxing match.

"He completely lost his temper!"

"And listen to this crowd! Korakuen Hall is losing its mind right now!"

The crowd is still reacting to the slam when another commotion erupts.

"Wait... look at the blue corner!"

"Ryoma’s coming into the ring!"

The arena noise somehow grows even louder. Spectators rise from their seats as Ryoma explodes out of the corner.

"Uh-oh!"

"He’s furious!"

"Somebody get in front of him!"

For a brief moment, the fight itself is forgotten as everyone’s attention shifts to the enraged coach charging across the canvas.

"What the fuck was that?!" Ryoma bellows. "You actually pulled him into a fucking slam?!"

For the first time all night, he completely abandons his usual composure. The anger in his voice echoes across the arena as he keeps advancing toward the other side of the ring.

It doesn’t even look like he’s coming to protest. It looks like he’s coming to fight. He marches straight toward Serrano, eyes burning with fury.

"If that’s how you want it, then why don’t you fight me?!"

Serrano pushes himself back to his feet. Instead of backing away, he takes a step forward and spreads his arms.

"That’s it. This is exactly what I wanted."

The madness on Ryoma’s face is so obvious that the referee immediately rushes toward him and pushes him away.

"Hey! Back off! I saw it already! Let me handle it!"

But Ryoma keeps lashing out, still trying to push past him. It’s so chaotic, but a nervous chuckle still escapes the commentary desk as the situation continues escalating.

"Ho-ho-ho! We’ve got a bigger problem now!"

"I’m not even sure Ryoma wants an explanation anymore!"

"Look at his face! He looks ready to fight Serrano himself!"

"And now both corners are getting involved!"

"Security might want to move a little faster here!"

The crowd roars even louder, torn between laughter, excitement, and genuine concern as more people flood into the ring.

The situation escalates so quickly that several ringside officials are forced to jump through the ropes and separate everyone before it turns into a full-blown brawl.