Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion

Chapter 589 - 444: Iron Blood Tactics

Bang bang!

As soon as the match started, Link ignored the straight punch thrown by Beirut and clenched his fist to strike back faster, landing a solid blow to Beirut's left ribs.

Although the sponge in the boxing glove provided some cushioning, the massive weight of the punch sent shock waves that made Beirut stagger. A muffled grunt came from his mouth, his attack malformed, and his fist passed by Link's left shoulder, resting almost against it.

Link did not give his opponent a chance to react after the successful hit and followed with a rapid right upper hook punch, ascending from below through Beirut's guard and striking his jaw.

Beirut's body shot upward and his jaw clicked. Although the mouthguard protected his teeth and tongue, the fierce collision caused his lower jaw to slam hard against his upper jaw, his neck bending backward with a crisp sound.

Beirut couldn't help but see stars and tasted blood in his mouth.

Too close for comfort, he instinctively stepped back in an attempt to evade Link's onslaught.

But at that moment, Link suddenly increased the frequency of attacks, pummeling fist after fist into his face, left ribs, and right abdomen.

He let loose over a dozen punches in one breath, a fierce torrent of moves sealing off any opening.

The barrage of attacks was extremely difficult for Beirut to endure.

Just as the symptoms of tooth pain and dizziness did not subside, he felt pain in his liver, stomach, and nose as his head was struck repeatedly, disorienting him even further.

He completely lost track of where he was and what he was doing.

At that moment, Beirut felt like he did as a child bathing in the river when he accidentally got caught in a whirlpool. No matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free from the grip of the water's flow.

A strong sense of suffocation closed off his mouth and nose, leaving him gasping for air and his mind blank.

"Wow, that's fast!"

"Link is going to win."

"Come on, Beirut! Protect the fairy sister!"

From the stands, everyone saw Link unleashing punches in rapid succession, each strike landing like a hammer on Beirut's head and upper body.

With each hit, Beirut's body kept retreating backward, his chin and corner of his mouth dripping with blood, his appearance growing more and more pitiful.

Seeing Link fight like this, the audience's eyes widened, tensely focused on the match on the stage.

They gasped in sync with Link's movements, involuntarily letting out exclamations, like puppets captivated by the match.

"Hit him, hit him! That's it, Link is too fast."

Below the stage, Zou Shiming was too excited and instinctively stood up, mirroring Link's movements by swinging his fists and punching the air.

The TVB cameraman captured him, ready to use the footage as behind-the-scenes material.

Next to him, Xiong Chaozhong stared at the match on the stage, his fists clenched tightly, his biceps bulging and his expression ferocious as if he were channeling Link's role and exerting force with him.

"Break!"

The ring referee saw Beirut subdued by Link's relentless hits against the ropes, his body limp and defenseless.

To prevent any accidents, he stepped in to intervene, halting Link's assault.

Link pulled back his fist, took a step back, and shook off the sweat and blood from his gloves.

Beirut's body collapsed, leaning against the ropes and sliding down to the canvas.

The referee knelt down to check Beirut's condition but didn't get a chance to ask anything before the bell rang.

Ding ding ding!

The bell signified the end of the first round, and Beirut's coaching team immediately supported him, retreating to the corner of the ring to treat his wounds.

It was only then that the audience, both at ringside and in front of the TVs, exhaled a sigh of relief.

With their attention freed, they looked back and forth between the treated Beirut and Link sitting and resting on a stool.

Their mouths too regained freedom, buzzing with discussions and debates about the match with the people around them.

"Eddie, looking at Beirut's state, do you still think your strategy is effective?"

Hoyle turned to Eddie Hearn, who had stood up, with a meaningful smile on his face.

With a frown, Eddie Hearn looked solemn.

In the past, watching Link's boxing matches, he found Link's fighting style to be gentle. He usually just knocked out his opponents without too much bloodshed, and the chance of getting injured was very small.

Everyone thought Link was a flower raised in a greenhouse, unequipped to handle truly harsh conditions.

But unexpectedly, once Link got fierce, he became terrifying. His punches were relentless, and he could beat his opponents to death, not appearing easy to provoke at all.

"Eddie, Link's gentle fighting style in the past was because he never met strong opponents and never applied his full strength. If you really think you can take advantage of his mild temper, then you are underestimating Link," said Franco, standing and clapping his hands in support of Link.

Eddie Hearn tightened his frown and watched Link closely, realizing that indeed, he may have misjudged him.

Having talked to Link a few times before, Eddie found him to be a humorous person, often with a sunny, cheerful smile on his face and a very approachable manner without any pretense. Everyone thought he was benevolent and gentle.

But they never envisioned him showing such an ironclad, ruthless side when provoked.

"Link like this is indeed scary. However, when he is angered, the rhythm of the match is disrupted, and his attacks are not as tight and orderly as before. I still believe this method is the best way to deal with Link. If Beirut were a bit taller, with a stronger ability to take hits, it's not certain that Link's approach could beat him," Eddie Hearn said.

Hoyle thought about it for a while and had to admit that Eddie Hearn had a point.

If Holyfield and Tyson were younger and used illegal tactics against Link, it wouldn't be easy for Link to defeat them.

Moreover, at 186 centimeters, Link's height was decent below the light heavyweight division.

In the heavyweight division, where the average height is over 190 centimeters and without the advantages of height and arm reach, winning a match would likely be even more challenging.

Maybe they could adopt the competitive room promotion company's tactics and use such a brutal fighting style against Link.

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Employing this strategy could break Link's fighting rhythm, preventing him from controlling the pace of the match.

Moreover, using this style would undoubtedly enhance the entertainment value and generate more buzz, leading to increased PPV revenue.

Hoyle nodded to himself, deciding to re

Ding, ding, ding!

The bell for the second round rang.

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