The American TV series "Four-Round Boxing Champion Starts with Shameless"

His gaze swept across the audience, and he raised his gloved fist in response to the cheers.

Many veteran boxing fans had tears in their eyes, reminiscing about the golden age of head-to-head combat, and Joe was one of the symbols of that era.

He stepped into the boxing ring, a stark contrast to Victor's coldness; he was like a piece of still-hot steel about to be thrown into the furnace.

Chapter 205 Frazier's Smokescreen Left Hook

The clear, ringing bell seemed to open the gates of hell.

Viktor, like a tiger unleashed from its cage, instantly launched himself forward, his massive body pressing forward with astonishing speed.

Without any probing, he launched a fierce and relentless attack right from the start.

The lead jab slammed into Frazier's guard like a battering ram, followed by a powerful rear punch aimed at the junction of the head and torso.

"Oh my God!"

The commentator's voice suddenly rose, "What are we seeing? Viktor didn't even probe! He's charging straight at Frazier like a runaway freight train! Is he going to swallow the veteran whole?"

Joe Frazier, with his extensive experience, immediately raised his fists and tucked his elbows in, forming a solid defensive fortress.

Viktor's heavy punches slammed into his arms and gloves, producing dull thuds like a hammer striking a leather drum.

Each strike sent a tremor through Frazier's body, but he gritted his teeth, rooted himself to the spot, and withstood the initial onslaught.

"Fraser's defense is very solid!"

The commentator spoke rapidly, "But how long can he hold out? Viktor's strength is terrifying!"

After weathering the initial onslaught, Frazier began to fight back.

Taking advantage of the gap in Viktor's punch, he suddenly bent down and dodged, emerging from under Viktor's arm, and delivered a sharp left hook that accurately struck Viktor's ribs!

"A beautiful counterattack! Joe Frazier's left hook! Still sharp!"

Viktor took the punch and frowned slightly, but his movements didn't stop at all; instead, they became even more ferocious.

He seemed enraged, completely abandoning his defense, his fists like two pile drivers at full power, relentlessly pounding into Frazier's guard.

The audience went absolutely wild.

The wealthy celebrities in the front row forgot their composure and stood up and roared like everyone else.

This was a pure clash of strength and will, without any fancy techniques, only the most primitive and bloody battle.

"Unbelievable! Only one minute into the first round! The two have already exchanged over thirty heavy punches!"

The commentator's voice was filled with unbelievable excitement: "Victor Lee is using his youth and strength to overwhelm his opponent, while Joe Frazier is using his iron will and rich experience to fight back! Look at Frazier's eyes! He hasn't backed down at all!"

On the boxing ring, sweat splattered everywhere with each powerful punch.

Frazier's brace remained stable, but the impact he received was devastating.

Victor's fists were not only powerful, but also extremely dense, like a never-ending hailstorm.

Frazier occasionally found opportunities to counterattack, and his heavy punches could also make Viktor's massive body sway, but clearly, Viktor's ability to withstand blows was beyond imagination.

Midway through the round, Victor landed a vicious right hook that bypassed Frazier's guard and grazed his forehead.

Frazier staggered and took a step back, but quickly regained his balance and retaliated with a right uppercut, hitting Victor in the chin!

"Both sides landed hits! Both sides landed powerful punches! My God, this is like a scene from a classic gladiatorial arena!"

In the last thirty seconds of the first round, the pace did not slow down at all.

Viktor, like a tireless machine, kept applying pressure.

Frazier's breathing became heavy, and blood flowed from his nose, staining his stubble red.

But he kept throwing punches, each punch embodying all his life's learning and his indomitable fighting spirit.

"clang--!"

The tolling of the bells was like a redemptive salvo, temporarily rescuing Frazier from Victor's relentless barrage of heavy punches.

He didn't turn around immediately, but maintained a highly alert stance, slowly retreating. His eyes, peeking out from above his boxing gloves, remained sharp as an eagle's, locked tightly on Viktor, who was also retreating, as if to say:

I'm still here; the battle is far from over.

Viktor, on the other hand, seemed to want more.

He shook his arms, and sweat poured down his body like rain.

He let out a low growl toward the audience, demonstrating his still abundant energy and aggression—his chest heaved violently, but it was excited panting, not exhaustion.

Viktor was like a tiger that had just completed its first pounce and confirmed the size of its prey, its eyes burning with a destructive desire.

The two returned to their respective corners.

"Well done, kid! That's how you hit someone!"

Old Jack slapped Victor's shoulder hard and wiped his strong back muscles with a sponge soaked in ice water and ammonia, trying to cool down his over-excited nervous system.

"His left hook is a threat, but your power makes him hesitant to strike! Keep the pressure on and don't give him any breathing room!"

Ethan quickly checked Victor's gloves and mouthguard, then handed him an energy drink.

Viktor gulped down the water, which trickled down his chin, mingling with his sweat.

"His stance is very strong, but I don't believe he can last twelve rounds!"

Viktor's voice was heavy with nasal breathing, and his eyes glanced at the opposite corner with disdain.

"Next round, I'm going to tear through his defenses!"

"Calm down, Viktor!"

Old Jack's tone turned serious, and he lightly tapped his nephew's forehead with his fist. "Frazer isn't one of those rookies you knocked out in three rounds!"

He's more experienced than you've ever been in your life! You were too hasty and completely abandoned your defense! Did you see that rib strike? And that uppercut! If the angle had been a little more precise, you might be on the ground by now!

Victor frowned, seemingly unimpressed by old Jack's caution, but nodded nonetheless.

Tony lowered his voice, “Keep the pressure on, but keep it rhythmic. Use your jabs to control the distance, not just pound him! Attack his body, especially his liver area! Wear him down! He's older, his recovery time is much slower than yours! Don't try to knock him out in one go, just drain him dry! Got it?”

Viktor took a deep breath, the fanaticism in his eyes fading slightly, replaced by a more detached cruelty.

"Understood, wear him down, then destroy him."

The atmosphere in Fraser's corner was much more somber.

Veteran coach Al Johnson, with a stern expression, carefully cleaned the bloodstains near Frazier's nostrils and brow bone with a cotton swab.

Fred's breathing remained heavy, his chest heaving like a bellows.

His arms and ribs had taken too many blows, and his muscles ached.

"Damn, this kid is a monster."

Frazier spat out his mouthguard, took the water his assistant handed him, rinsed his mouth, and spat out water with a faint pink tinge. "His fists are like hammers."

"Joe, you did the right thing, you held on!"

Al's voice was calm and firm, providing Frazier with unwavering support, "You made him waste a lot of energy, and your counterattack was spot on! He's not invincible!"

He quickly applied Vaseline to the scraped and bruised areas on Fraser's face, especially his forehead and chin, to prevent the skin from cracking further.

“Listen, Joe, we can’t keep going like this. His strength advantage is too obvious.”

Al leaned close to Frazier's ear and spoke rapidly, "Next round, we need to change. Less head-on confrontation, more of your footwork. He's not a technical player; his movement has patterns!"

Observe him! When he throws his right hand, his lead hand will habitually drop downwards! Seize that moment! Counter with your dodge and left hook! Remember, you are a technical master, not a hard-hitting competitor!

Frazier closed his eyes, quickly reviewed the scene from the previous round, and nodded.

He has been through too many fierce battles and knows when to stand firm and when to use his wisdom.

"I understand. Wear him down, look for opportunities. His defense has weaknesses."

"Yes! Patience! Your stamina is key! Take a deep breath, adjust your pace. Don't forget, you are 'Iron Man' Joe Frazier! You've taken down far more formidable opponents!"

Al squeezed Frazier's nape firmly, conveying his confidence.

"Clang!" The break between rounds was as short as an instant.

The referee walked to the center of the ring and gestured for the two boxers to stand up.

The second round begins!

As expected, Victor followed old Jack's instructions and did not rush blindly like he did at the beginning of the first round.

He took more aggressive, small steps, his lead jabs flicking out like a viper's tongue, trying to gauge distance and disrupt Frazier's vision.

These jabs were still incredibly powerful, making a "smack, smack" sound as they hit Frazier's gloves and arms.

Frazier, on the other hand, adopted a more flexible approach.

Instead of staying in one place, he used sliding and sidestepping to circle around Victor and avoid his head-on attacks.

His stance remained stable, but he no longer took every punch head-on. Instead, he used slight head movements to deflect some of the force.

"We saw a change in pace in the second round!"

The commentator analyzed, "Victor Lee appears more patient, controlling the situation with jabs. Meanwhile, veteran Frazier is moving! He's trying to avoid Victor's attacks and find a better opportunity!"

The audience's emotions calmed down slightly from the extreme fervor of the first round, but the tension only increased.

They could sense that this was no longer a simple clash of brute force, but had entered a deeper tactical realm.

"How long can Frazier run? Can his stamina support this kind of movement?"

Another commentator raised a question.

Victor continued to close in, his jabs increasingly targeting Frazier's body, particularly his ribs and abdomen.

A heavy body jab pierced Frazier's defense and struck his upper right abdomen.

Frazier grunted and bent slightly, but immediately straightened up and delivered a quick right straight punch to Victor's chest, slowing his follow-up.

"Viktor has started attacking the body! A clever tactic! He's building up damage for a potential knockout!"

"The commentator shouted."

Frazier continued to wander around, his eyes intently observing Viktor.

He was waiting, waiting for the moment the coach had mentioned when he would "habitually sink."