Chapter 1006 - 1006: The Illusion of Fatigue

As the tenth round begins, Umemoto immediately claims the center of the ring with sharp, agile footwork. Ryoma, meanwhile, remains exactly as he was in the previous rounds, swaggering forward with both gloves hanging loosely at his sides.

The commentators immediately raise their voices, feeding the growing excitement spreading through the arena.

"Here we go! The tenth round is underway, and Umemoto is coming out with absolutely no intention of slowing down!"

"And look at Ryoma! He's still walking forward with his hands down, as if everything Umemoto throws at him is nothing more than entertainment!"

"After everything we've seen tonight, you have to wonder how much longer this can possibly continue!"

The crowd responds with another deafening roar, thousands of voices rising together as both fighters begin closing the distance.

Umemoto resumes the relentless pressure he has maintained throughout the previous rounds. He advances with sharp movements, keeping his attacks coming with tremendous intensity.

But Ryoma continues responding in exactly the same manner as before, relying almost entirely on his extraordinary defensive reactions rather than using conventional footwork to create distance.

He slips outside, rolls beneath hooks, and tilts his upper body just enough to let each glove pass harmlessly beside him, barely moving his feet at all.

As Umemoto's pressure becomes increasingly intense, the space between them gradually grows tighter.

But instead of giving ground or relying on his footwork, Ryoma answers with counters of his own.

DSH!

Umemoto reacts immediately, turning his head just enough to take some of the impact away before firing back with a punch of his own to the body.

BUGH!

He forces another cross, and Ryoma slips before sending a right upper from bellow.

DHUACK!

Umemoto's head is knocked upward, but he forces another dual exchange before Ryoma can get away.

DSH!

The commentators erupt, their voices cutting through the deafening roar of the arena.

"Another brutal exchange!"

"These two just refuse to give each other even a second to breathe!"

"Ryoma keeps finding those counters, but Umemoto answers every single time!"

"How is this still happening?!"

"Every time you think the fight has finally reached its limit, they somehow produce another exchange that looks even more dangerous!"

The crowd surges with the commentators, roaring louder as the two fighters remain locked in front of each other. Whatever this fight has become, the nightmare inside that ring still refuses to end.

Umemoto continues maintaining his disciplined boxing, using sharp, energetic footwork to keep pressing Ryoma and control the space between them.

Every step remains quick and precise, allowing him to move in and out of range without sacrificing his balance or momentum.

Ryoma, meanwhile, continues relying on minimal footwork, rarely taking more than a small adjustment to keep himself positioned.

His feet no longer move with any noticeable speed, yet his defensive maneuvers remain slick, clean, and remarkably smooth. He still slips, rolls, and bends away from incoming punches with the same eerie precision.

From the outside, the difference between them creates an entirely different impression. Ryoma appears to be approaching his limit, moving as though his legs have become increasingly heavy beneath him.

That impression becomes even more striking with Umemoto continues maintaining the same sharp and agile footwork despite everything his body has endured.

And when Ryoma can no longer slip away from the incoming punches, he simply fights back, forcing another counter that once again drags both fighters into a brutal exchange.

"Again! They're trading shots at point-blank range!"

"Look at this! Neither man is giving an inch, and every punch is being answered immediately!"

"This is getting ugly! Ryoma finds a counter, Umemoto fires right back, and suddenly they're both throwing everything into the exchange!"

"They're standing right in front of each other! This isn't technical anymore, this is pure violence!"

Once again, after several brutal exchanges, both fighters finish the sequence by landing hooks that crash into each other's heads.

BAM!!!

Ryoma is the first to break away, immediately walking backward to create some distance between them.

The impact sends a wave of excitement through the Umemoto supporters, many of them convinced that the momentum has now swung completely in his favor.

"Keep going, Umemoto!"

"He's fading! Don't let him breathe!"

"Finish him, Umemoto! Take that belt home!"

Ryoma simply smiles, continuing to circle the perimeter with the same swagger, his guard still hanging low as though he is genuinely enjoying every moment of the fight.

What none of the spectators realize is that his minimal movement has nothing to do with his legs failing him. Ever since the Cruel King took control, Ryoma has deliberately fought this way, keeping his footwork almost absurdly economical.

He knows Umemoto possesses the physical advantage over him. That is precisely why he has conserved his footwork from the beginning, allowing Umemoto to keep spending energy while maintaining the pressure.

Those brutal exchanges still hurt him, of course, but Umemoto has been taking damage as well. Every time they collide, both men pay a price, and Ryoma has already accepted that cost as part of the strategy.

It is nothing more than a cold, calculated attempt to drag Umemoto into the mud without forcing his own legs to work any harder than necessary.

After circling Umemoto while studying his physical condition, Ryoma finally comes to a stop and raises his gloves for the first time, though only to chest level.

"Come on, Umemoto. I know you're not finished yet."

The sudden change in Ryoma's stance immediately catches everyone's attention, reinforcing the impression that the champion is finally running out of gas.

"Look at that! Ryoma is finally bringing his hands up! He must be feeling the pressure now!"

"Umemoto has dragged him into deep waters, and Ryoma is starting to show it!"

Umemoto sees the same opening they see and immediately resumes his pressure. This time, Ryoma begins using both arms to absorb each incoming punch.

Dug. Dug. Dp. Dugh.

Dug. Dp. Dp. Dugh. Dugh. Drugh.

For several moments, every impact still carries tremendous weight, forcing Ryoma to gradually bring more of his footwork back into the equation.

He continues allowing Umemoto to chase him, keeping the challenger constantly moving forward as he unleashes combination after combination at close range.

Then Ryoma begins applying his Cuban Defense Geometry, catching several punches on his arms before angling away and shutting down Umemoto's combination.

Eventually, after maintaining that pressure for long enough, Umemoto's performance begins to decline, and Ryoma's footwork gradually becomes more active.

He starts blending his pendulum step into the Cuban Defense Geometry, still allowing Umemoto to attack while constantly swaying around him, moving like a butterfly gliding above still water.

The commentators begin noticing the subtle change, their voices gradually shifting from excitement toward confusion and curiosity.

"Wait… something has changed with Ryoma's movement!"

"Look at how he's defending now! He's parrying that jab, slipping the next punch, then ducking underneath the hook!"

"And another one misses! He's blocking, catching, and redirecting Umemoto's punches before simply moving away from the rest!"

"But he isn't countering at all! That's the strange part!"

"And look at his footwork! He's circling Umemoto while doing all of that."

"What on earth is happening? Where is all this energy suddenly coming from?"

"Could he be burning through whatever he has left, gambling everything on one final burst of strength?"