362 Contender Part III
Alex was like a well-oiled machine, his heart was pumping blood to every inch of his body, and it was working harder than usual due to the strenuous two rounds of combat he had just engaged in. No doubt the man was sweating, but he was far from exhausted.
His cardio, perhaps enhanced by his skill [Incubus] which allowed him to engage in sexual intercourse for longer than any ordinary man, thus in a way of increasing his stamina to superhuman levels, was a daunting thing to witness. At least from Ismails’ perspective, who was, despite his usual performance, gassed out as he sat on the stool, exhausted beyond all comprehension.
The man’s corner shouted at him. Telling him he needed to finish Alex in the third round. Because if not, the fight would end with his defeat. And though Ismail also knew this, he just simply couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of how he would achieve such a thing.
Because of this, his thoughts escaped from his lips, which was a verbal admission of defeat.
“No more….”
Such an attitude was unbecoming of a fighter, and because of this, Ismail’s head coach grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him back into a conscious state.
“No more!?! You’re going to let this American playboy break you? Are you really going to quit now, when you are still physically able to continue? That is not who we are!”
Perhaps some kind of religious determination flooded Ismail’s mind at that moment. In all honesty, only he knew what suddenly compelled him to continue the fight. But he quickly put his mouth guard back where it belonged and nodded his head. Just in time for the brief break in between rounds to end.
“Are you sure about this? I mean, five more minutes of this, and you might really die…. To be the first man to kill his opponent in the octagon, even if I don’t become champion, they will be talking about me for decades after I retire.”
Ismail squared up with Alex as the referee let them know that the round had begun. But he was slow and sluggish. His legs had taken a severe beating from all of Alex’s leg kicks, which he usually landed after a flurry of punches.
His ribs were bruised from the knees he had taken to the body during the clinch exchanges. And even his neck was stiff from the sheer brute strength that Alex had used when gripping the back of his head to break his posture.
And yet, he did not care as he swung wildly at Alex, trying to take the man’s head off as if the only way to victory was a puncher’s chance. Alex cackled when dodged these strikes. Victory was certain if this was the way Ismail wanted to go out. Still, going out swinging was respectable, and because of this, Alex decided to give the man the ending he wanted.
Alex countered the blows thrown at him with a stiff jab, followed by a left hook which cracked his opponent’s jaw, sending him falling towards his back. But in an excellent display of athleticism, Ismail rolled back to his feet, albeit stumbling back towards the cage.
During this exchange, Alex hounded his opponent, throwing a flying knee which allowed him to cross the void, before landing an elbow on his opponent’s forehead, re-opening a nasty cut that had been sealed by Vaseline in between the rounds.
Ismail tried to fight back, throwing a few more wild punches, but Alex slipped them with ease, and in doing so, once more fished his hands into a position where he could control his opponent’s arms. Following up with a knee to the body, and another downward elbow to the skull.
Try as Ismail might to get out of the clinch, Alex secured his position by slipping into an underhook, which he used his free hand to grip the back of his opponent’s head. Using his underhook to lift the man’s arm in the air, exposing his ribs to brutal knees once more.
Ismail crumpled to the floor, no longer able to take the damage his body had received. And had this fight taken place in Japan, Alex would have kneed the man in the head as he said against the cage, broken and defeated.
In doing so, he surely would have killed the man. But rules were rules, and as much as every instinct in Alex’s body was telling him to finish his opponent then and there with brutal knees to the dome. He did not do so, instead breaking through his opponent’s poor attempt to shield himself, with more downward elbows, until finally the referee decided to intervene and pull them apart.
But it was too late. Ismail had been rendered unconscious by Alex’s attacks. His head was split open in multiple places, deep cuts, oozed with fresh blood as the doctor checked on the man’s condition.
And though Ismail had a pulse, he was quickly escorted out of the cage, and the venue itself on a stretcher and an ambulance. Heading towards the hospital where his battle wounds would be treated.
As for Alex himself, the moment he was pulled off his opponent, he made a gesture with his thumb to his neck, as if it were a knife, before pounding his chest with his fist over and over again, all while screaming like a savage.
The adrenaline and endorphins that were flowing through his blood at this moment could not be released through normal means, he would have to satisfy himself with a copious quantity of alcohol, and a woman or two to keep him company for the remainder of the night.
But for the time being, Alex was stuck at the venue, first for his cage side interview, and later for the actual post-fight interview. It would be well into the night before he got back to his hotel room with a local slut to vent his lust upon.