Domination in America, Starting from being a Boxing Champion-Chapter 891 - 635: Competition and Date

"Hurry up, hurry up, the match is about to start."

Inside the Karaiskakis Stadium, Tian Liang waved at Wang Hao and the others.

This time, for the 69kg semi-finals, most of the Huaxia Team athletes came to watch, including a few from the diving team, table tennis players Wang Hao, Kong Linghui, and Wang Liqin, as well as gymnast Li Xiaopeng, and all the boxers who didn't have matches scheduled.

"The news says Link's opponent Atayev is really strong. Not sure if Link can win."

"If Link wins this match, at minimum he secures a silver medal. That's incredible. He's picked up medals in three unexpected fields for the Huaxia Team, and the weight of that compares favorably to three golds."

"Link is truly a legend. A shot put athlete who managed to take second place in javelin, and now he's in the boxing semi-finals? That's insane."

Zou Shiming, Wang Liqin, Yi Jianlian, and the others commented as they watched Link enter the ring.

"Hao, I bet you Link's legs will go weak later, and he might even lose this match."

Tian Liang stared at Link's figure and revealed a mysterious smile. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

"Why would his legs go weak? Hiss, you didn't put laxatives in Link's breakfast, did you?"

Wang Hao looked at him with an expression of 'shock' and pretended to stand up to report him.

"Don't talk nonsense!"

Tian Liang grabbed his arm and pulled him back to his seat. "Link is the National Team's treasure. Who would dare drug him?"

"Then why do you say his legs will go weak?"

Wang Hao asked.

Tian Liang bit his lip. Considering that spreading such talk wouldn't be good, he held back the words he was about to say and simply told Wang Hao that he'd understand after watching the match.

The match began.

In the boxing ring, Link wore a red sleeveless shirt and shorts, along with a red headguard and gloves, while his opponent was dressed entirely in blue gear.

Right after the match started, the opponent launched the first attack, swinging his fists in a flurry, one punch after another, trying to break through Link's defense.

Link adopted a defensive strategy, countering attacks as they came while moving around the ring.

"Atayev is formidable. His combination punches transition seamlessly with hardly any pauses—it's extraordinarily smooth. Beating him won't be easy for Link."

Zou Shiming remarked as he observed the exchange in the ring.

"Why isn't Link fighting back? Is he going to lose?"

Tian Liang asked.

"It's not that simple. Atayev has been attacking Link nonstop, and Link is defending with all his might. The opponent has thrown forty or fifty punches, yet hasn't landed a single one. Link's defense is impeccable—whether it's dodging, countering, or footwork—it's all at a master's level."

"Tsk-tsk, even those World Boxing Champions in the training tapes don't do it as well. I don't know how he trained for it, but if my defense had even a tenth of his skill, my win rate would go up eighty percent."

Zou Shiming said enviously.

"I heard Link used to practice shot put. How'd he end up boxing?"

Yi Jianlian asked.

"I heard he learned it by watching training tapes, then practicing on his own. Link's just that kind of boxing genius."

Zou Shiming explained.

"Zou Shiming, you just said Link's opponent didn't land a hit. That's not accurate. I saw punches landing on his arms and shoulders. Isn't that hitting him?"

Tian Liang asked.

"In amateur boxing, a strike only counts if the punch fits certain criteria. You have to hit with the forefront of the fist—essentially the knuckles—and target the head or the area covered by the shirt for it to count as a score. Other parts don't count."

"That's pretty complicated."

Tian Liang shook his head.

In the ring, Link concentrated intensely, dismantling and blocking Atayev's attacks.

Whenever the opponent aimed for his head, Link would employ agile Shake and Flash tactics, dodging the punches masterfully. If the attacks targeted his chest or abdomen, he'd raise his arms to break them down, countering them move by move.

His speed was faster than his opponent's, and his punching strength also surpassed the other boxer, making it not overly difficult to respond effectively.

Around 90 seconds into the first round, Atayev launched six swift jab-hook combinations in succession, aiming for Link's head but failed to land any of them as Link continually dodged each one.

Realizing his attacks weren't succeeding, Atayev began to hesitate on his next moves.

At this moment, Link suddenly seized the chance to counterattack. Taking advantage of a gap in his opponent's rhythm, he lunged forward, closing in on Atayev, and landed a rapid straight punch, clearing his opponent's right forearm and striking cleanly on his left rib.

Atayev exhaled a muffled groan as his steps involuntarily staggered backward.

Link pressed forward relentlessly, attacking high and low with a flurry of blows: Left Jab + Upper Hook Punches, Right Hook Punch + Left Swing Punches. He pounded away at his opponent's abdomen and head without pause.

Atayev was utterly caught off guard. In less than three seconds, Link's punches landed three times on his chest and abdomen, twice on his jaw and cheek, and even drove his back against the ropes, leaving him entirely at a disadvantage.

However, being a seasoned amateur boxing expert, Atayev quickly stepped away after taking a few hits, adjusted his stance, and raised his arms in front for a tight defense.

Link executed over twenty attacking punches during this period but only managed to land two on his opponent's abdomen.

Clang, clang, clang!

The first round concluded.

The referee posted the score: 10:6.

Link had taken a commanding lead.

"Where did the Huaxia Team suddenly find such a skilled boxer?"

In the front-row seats, a middle-aged man with a beard stared intently at Link in the ring, his brows furrowed deeply.

"Master, Link is indeed strong, but I absolutely won't lose to him."

Renozzo Aragon clenched his fists tightly, his fighting spirit ablaze.

Felix Savon remained silent. Before coming to Athens, he'd thought Aragon would only face two true threats: Atayev and Todolov, who was eliminated in the previous round.