Boxing God-Chapter 256: The Ultimate Showdown (Part One)

After the weigh-in concluded, Jason Luo officially entered pre-fight mode. The entire coaching team gathered in Macau and began supervising every detail of his diet and safety to prevent any last-minute surprises.
At 8 p.m. on November 4th, the Macau Federation Workers’ Stadium was a roaring sea of people. Designed to hold sixty thousand, the venue had somehow packed in nearly seventy thousand fans!
There was no other way—after the ticketing chaos, organizers kept expanding the venue’s capacity. Now, even the entrance tunnels were packed tight. Security barely managed to keep a narrow path open for the fighters to enter…
“Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, we bring you one of the most significant boxing events of the year! The undefeated rising star known as the ‘Wonder Kid,’ current WBA Champion Jason Luo, will face the reigning WBO Champion Carl Frazier—in a unification bout! The winner will become the undisputed WBA and WBO World Champion! East versus West—the clash of boxing elites begins tonight! Predictions have flooded the media for weeks, but boxing doesn’t believe in forecasts. So, who will emerge victorious tonight? Let’s find out!”
“Since we’re in Macau tonight, let’s first welcome… Carl Frazier!”
As the host’s voice boomed, the arena lights flared to full brightness.
The first to appear were Mayweather and De La Hoya, walking out together. Moments later, a rapper hit the stage as Carl emerged wearing headphones, dancing his way down the ramp surrounded by a group of glamorous dancers.
Lights, music, women, and rhythm—the crowd erupted instantly. The atmosphere exploded with energy as fans waved and shouted, the sound echoing across the packed stadium.
Mayweather and De La Hoya escorted Carl all the way to the ring before taking their seats in the front row, clearly there to show support and build momentum for their protégé.
Once Carl began his warm-up, the host raised his voice again. “Now, let’s welcome the WBA Champion, the Wonder Kid Jason Luo!”
Thick smoke billowed through the tunnel as the sound of war horns filled the air. A column of Eastern soldiers carrying spears marched in formation. Jason Luo appeared in his signature red gear, walking side by side with Pacquiao. The crowd erupted into deafening cheers—especially the local fans. The message was clear: tonight, this was Jason Luo’s home turf!
Jason waved to the roaring audience as he climbed onto the ring. The venue was jam-packed—better not make things harder for security.
Just before stepping onto the platform, Pacquiao pulled him in for a brief hug and whispered, “Fight decisively. Good luck.”
Jason smiled. “With you here, Coach, luck’s already on my side.”
Coach Brown and Raul came over next. “Jason, give it everything you’ve got—but be careful out there.”
“Got it.”
Once on stage, Jason removed his warm-up jacket and began stretching. The announcer introduced both fighters’ stats. Both were undefeated, both had frightening KO ratios. Analysts predicted the fight wouldn’t go past three or four rounds—a collision between two heavy hitters where even a single mistake could decide it all.
When introductions ended, the referee took over. The ring girls circled with their signs, and the referee began reciting the standard rules: no hitting the back of the head, no low blows—anything above the waist is fair game. In truth, only amateurs still bothered listening.
Carl glared at Jason, fury flashing in his eyes. The image of his narrow loss a year ago burned in his mind. This time, he’d reclaim his pride.
Jason, meanwhile, was already strategizing.
If I activate Life Burn… could I take him out instantly?
He wasn’t sure. The move had never been tested in a real fight. And Carl was no longer the same opponent—his technique and defense were far more complete. Even with Life Burn, there was no guarantee of a knockout.
Still, Jason refused to accept that he couldn’t win without using his trump card.
Do I really need to rely on that to beat him?
After checking both fighters’ gloves and gear, the referee shouted, “You both understand the rules? Good. Touch gloves—and prepare to fight!”
Carl and Jason tapped gloves solemnly, then stepped back half a pace.
“The match begins—round one!”
...Neither moved.
Carl and Jason studied each other intently. Both were power punchers. Both were in peak condition, physically and mentally. One careless move, and the fight could end in seconds. Their first strike had to count.
The entire arena fell silent.
For ten long seconds, the two men stared each other down. Fighting spirit surged between them, their pupils narrowing, fists tightening.
Come on, Carl. No matter how strong you are tonight, I won’t take a single step back.
“Haaah!”
“Yaaah!”
Both fighters roared as they launched forward!
Jason lunged in with a straight rear punch, while Carl countered with a sweeping left hook. The distance between them vanished in an instant—sending the crowd into a frenzy.
No way—they’re actually trading punches?
Both opened with power shots, charging in full force. If either connected cleanly, it could end the fight right there. One punch to decide the champion? It was insane—but thrilling.
They were already within striking distance, yet neither showed signs of dodging. And then—
In a flash, Carl retracted his left hand and launched a massive right uppercut toward Jason’s chin. Jason stopped short, pivoting to the side with a sharp step, his left fist driving into Carl’s ribs.
The crowd let out a collective gasp of relief. “Holy hell, that was close!” For a moment, everyone thought it’d end in a single blow. Sure, a one-punch knockout would be legendary—but after fighting tooth and nail to get a ticket, no one wanted the match over in ten seconds.
On the ring, their exchange looked nothing like a typical boxing match. It was fast, fluid—almost like a martial arts duel. Attack, evade, counter, retreat—neither willing to stay inside or trade recklessly. Their rhythm was sharp: every missed strike led to immediate disengagement before darting back in to find another opening.
Spectators were baffled. With both fighters known for their devastating close-range power, why were they fighting so cautiously?
What the crowd didn’t realize was that both men were calculating. Neither knew the true destructive force of the other’s heavy punches. Over the past year, both had advanced enormously. Engaging recklessly now would be suicide. With so much at stake, neither could afford an early mistake.
They circled each other, both searching for the chance to land a clean, decisive blow—or a safe moment to absorb one and counter back. Jason stayed alert; he knew Carl might use any defensive opening to unleash a ferocious attack. Losing initiative could be disastrous.
Carl, on the other hand, had similar thoughts. He wanted to test Jason’s limits first before committing to a strategy. If Jason’s power proved too overwhelming, he’d switch to a technical, pace-controlling style. But if it was within his tolerance—then he’d go all in, fight toe-to-toe, and knock the kid down hard enough that he’d have nothing left to say.