Kengan: New Roots

Quarterfinals (Match 2)

Ashan stood under the hot lights again. Same canvas. Different face across from him this time, a long-limbed southpaw with a twitchy jab and a wild grin.

"He's gonna rush."

The bell rang.

He was right.

The southpaw lunged in with wild hooks early, trying to brawl, maybe banking on aggression over structure.

Ashan stayed calm.

Stepped back, sidestepped. Letting the southpaw burn out like a candle.

Midway through round one, Ashan started peppering the jab. Each one landed with more sting than the last. A few crosses broke through too, but the guy was game, grinned through it, shrugged them off.

Round one ended with Ashan clearly ahead, but not dominant.

"He's still walking through these."

Then came round two.

Ashan adjusted.

He leisurly doubled up the jab, stepped in, and when the guy went to counter

BOOM!

Right cross. Temple shot. Snappy enough to leave a scratch on his headgear.

The southpaw wobbled, then crumpled sideways.

Ref counted to ten.

KO.

Ashan didn't flex. Didn't raise his gloves.

He calmy turned, walked back to the corner, and nodded.

"Two down."

---

Semifinals (Match 3)

2 days later

The semifinal opponent was tougher, a patient pressure-fighter with a stone chin and a high guard. Built like a refrigerator. Didn't throw much, but when he did, everything had weight.

Round one was tight.

Ashan's jabs bounced off the guard. His crosses got slipped. And anytime he stayed still for too long, the guy stepped in with body shots that dug like shovels.

Ashan circled. Landed shots here and there. He wasn't getting hurt, but he wasn't dominating either.

Round two, Ashan adapted.

He started attacking the body.

Quick jabs to the stomach, snap crosses to the ribs.

Not knockout shots.

By round three, the bigger fighter's hands started dropping, just slightly.

Ashan feinted up.

The guard raised.

BOOM!

Right hand snuck through.

Followed by two jabs, a pivot, and another clean cross.

The guy stumbled.

Tried to tie up.

Ashan pushed him off and kept firing jabs and crosses in sharp flurries.

The ref stepped in.

TKO.

Ashan stepped back, chest rising and falling.

He didn't feel invincible.

He just was locked in.

---

Project Dragon, Day 273

"Finals next. Doesn't matter who."