Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 648, Section 62: Knockout, Victory
The moment they both assumed the same pose, Jack sprang up like a spring, lightly touching the ground with the balls of his feet and lifting his heels slightly—a uniquely Filipino-style agile footwork. Razor moved almost in sync, and the two drew a perfect circular trajectory in the center of the platform.

The speed at which the two men unleashed at that moment was so fast that some of the spectators could hardly keep up. They could only see two dark figures moving around on the stage until the moment they clashed, when they finally saw the exact details of their battle.

Jack threw a feint with a left jab, and Razor's shoulder twitched reflexively, but his footwork remained steady. He recognized Jack's attack as a feint almost instantly.

'Good response.'

Jack inwardly admired him, then slid forward and fired a right straight punch like a bullet. Razor leaned back with amazing flexibility, the fist grazing his chin.

Jack's fist was aimed at Razor's already injured chin. If he were to be hit in that spot a few more times, even Razor would be lying down. So he was fully prepared to defend himself and dodge.

Despite his large size, Razor Hughes is just as flexible as a professional dancer.

Jack threw another punch, but Razor suddenly changed his rhythm. With an exaggerated feint on his left shoulder, Jack instinctively pulled his hand back and raised it to protect his head. But then Razor's front foot slid half a step to the outside in an uncanny way, and a right hook came from an impossible angle.

boom!
The air itself seemed to explode.

The boxing glove grazed Jack's left ear, making his skull ring. He staggered half a step, immediately lowering his center of gravity to dodge Razor's follow-up left hook.

Left jab! Right straight! Left hook! Razor's combination was like a storm. Jack parried most of the attacks, but a tricky right uppercut broke through his defense and slammed into his chin.

Stars were flashing before Jack's eyes, and his legs felt weak. Even though Razor had held back some of his strength to maintain his punching speed, when the force hit Jack's jaw, Jack still felt a tremor in his head as if his brains were shaking. He instinctively grabbed Razor, and seeing Jack's movement, Razor stopped his attack.

Passive clinching is a concept in boxing, referring to the behavior of boxers who, due to physical fatigue or to avoid being hit, clinch with their opponent. Whenever this happens, the referee will immediately order the two to separate.

In traditional thinking, such behavior is considered shameful and cheating because it affects the smoothness and entertainment value of the show. However, Razor Hughes could tell that Jack did not do it intentionally, so he chose to step back and let Jack's instinctive support dissipate. The experienced referee had already stepped forward and quickly separated them.

"Feel sorry."

Feeling dizzy, Jack apologized for his unconscious action.

"It's okay, it's normal."

Razor Hughes calmly comforted Jack, then regained his composure.

The referee glanced at it and then took a few steps back.

"The game continues!"

Jack shook his head, forcing himself to clear his head. During the fight, he noticed that Razor's left shoulder would twitch slightly before each right punch. It was a habit, and perhaps he could use it.

As Razor closed in again, Jack feigned a stumble, luring Razor into throwing a right punch. Sure enough, a slight twitch appeared in his shoulder. Jack crouched down half a second in advance, and Razor's right hook grazed his hair, while his left hook struck Razor squarely in the ribs.

"Ugh!" Razor let out a muffled groan and retreated for the first time in the second round of the fight.

Jack pressed his advantage, landing a right straight followed by a left hook. Blood spurted from Razor's nose, splattering onto the ring between the two fighters, and the audience erupted in deafening cheers. Jack realized that even with his chin injury, Razor's defenses against boxers' weaknesses remained solid. So he changed his tactics, focusing on attacks to the liver and ribs. Another advantage of the Filipino style became apparent—this stance was particularly well-suited for delivering short, powerful body hooks.

After a beautiful feint, Jack's right hook slammed into Razor's left ribs. Razor's face turned pale instantly, a reaction to the severe blow to his liver. Jack immediately followed up with a left hook, but Razor nimbly dodged it.

Razor has figured out Jack's fighting style: targeting weaknesses, which is perfectly reasonable.

The two men were locked in a fierce struggle, their elbows touching, their sweat mingling, and Jack could feel the power emanating from Razor's body.

"Separate!" The referee intervened again, before Razor seized the opportunity to land a concealed left uppercut on Jack's chin.

He follows the rules of the ring and is accommodating to his opponent's mistakes, but he will also seize any opportunity, however slight, to attack his opponent.

"It hurts so much."

Jack spat out the blood in his mouth, nodded, his vision blurred for a moment, and then refocused.

Before the calls for the match to restart had even faded, Razor had already transformed into a black whirlwind. His combination punches were like a precisely programmed killing algorithm, each strike aimed straight for Jack's injured chin.

Jack had to constantly dodge with his neck twisted at an angle, completely disrupting the swaying rhythm characteristic of Filipino boxing. His prosthetic eye showed his heart rate dangerously approaching the red alert zone.

As the left hook, imbued with wind pressure, came again, Jack suddenly deactivated the shock absorption system on his knee. His body plummeted like a puppet with its strings cut, and Razor's fist grazed his burning scalp, burning a few strands of hair, which smelled of burnt electrical circuits, to ashes.

'I have to thank Carl for this. If I hadn't seen him make a similar move to dodge Adam's hammer attack, I wouldn't have thought to treat my leg beforehand.'

With that thought in mind, Jack stared intently at Razor Hughes' exposed chin.

In that instant of blind spot, Jack's fist rose with all his might as his body was raised.

The upward right uppercut was like a bolt of lightning, the fist aimed directly at Razor's already shattered jaw.

"Click!"

A chilling cracking sound echoed throughout the arena. Razor's already shattered jaw armor shattered like an eggshell, and the steel giant's face showed an expression of extreme astonishment before he slammed heavily onto the ring like a mech whose power had been cut off.

Jack staggered to one knee, his right fist emitting white smoke from the adrenaline rush that had raised his body temperature. In the final strike, Jack finally activated his berserk cybernetic form, bringing the power of this punch to its peak.

The holographic numbers on the scoreboard began to jump, but no one paid any attention to the scores, which were now useless.

Under everyone's gaze, Jack stood up with his arms raised, while Razor Hughes, who had fallen, had completely lost consciousness.

(End of this chapter)