Chapter 120 Chapter 120: The First Bout
\[Lilia\]
Damn it! That hurts!
Just as my opponent landed a solid punch into my gut, wheezing all the breath out of my system, an audible chorus of 'oohs' resonated in the background. If I hadn’t expanded my stance and planted my feet firmly, I probably would have been knocked off. Fortunately, I did keep in mind those things Sasha taught me. He was about to deliver another blow, but I immediately dodged it and leapt backward, shaking my head clear and focusing on getting back at him.
“Why don’t you just yield, huh?” my opponent smirked, flashing me his crooked teeth, and then waved his arms slowly, daring me to charge at him.
“Why don’t you fuck yourself!” I hissed back, accepting his dare. I shuffled my feet before drawing my left hook and throwing it.
Of course, he managed to avoid it, but the whole thing was merely a ruse. As soon as he took the bait, my right hook instantly collided with the underside of his jaw, sending him staggering backward. I didn’t wait for him to recover. I ducked, crouching low, bent my knee, and swept my leg into his ankle, throwing him off his balance immediately. I crawled on top of him and started punching his face. Then I moved above him, holding his head in my arms and locking my elbow around his neck while my legs pinned his shoulders down.
The crowd cheered loudly, though most of them were booing me, while on the side, Val and Sasha were hyping me up.
“Yeah! That’s it, Lilia!” From the corner of my eye, I saw Sasha standing on top of the bench. She was bouncing up and down and punching the air with her fist. “Don’t let him go until the bastard yields!”
Val, on the other hand, remained silent. His gaze was narrowly focused on me, brows furrowed, calculating each of my movements. I know what he was thinking. I may have the upper hand right now, but I still need to be careful.
“Damn you, bitch!” My opponent—whose name I hadn't made an effort to learn—grumbled heavily as I choked him, but I wasn't exerting enough pressure to completely shut off his airways.
“Why don’t you just yield, huh?” I said, taunting him back with his own words from earlier. We were both covered in sweat, my mouth dried up from exertion, and my energy was starting to sap. We had been fighting now for over five rounds with only a minimal five-minute break in between.
That was not enough.
“I won’t yield to a woman!”
My opponent groaned loudly, and I didn’t notice that my side was left unguarded until it was too late. A searing pain shot through the area right below my ribcage where his elbow had struck me, and my grip on his neck loosened. He pushed himself up and butted my chin with his head. The next thing I remember, he was lifting me off the ground and jacking me onto his shoulders. Then he slammed my body down with such force that I thought my bones would scatter all around the ring.
My back hit the hard surface, and pain shot in all directions throughout my body. My vision became blurry, and I had the sensation that the world around me was beginning to distort as the loud cheering became even more intense, causing me nausea.
The situation turned, and I felt him crawling on top of me. I thought he was going to punch me in the face, but surprisingly he didn’t. Instead, it was his turn to hold my head and lock me down, just like what I had done to him earlier.
“Who’s going to yield now?” He gloated, his arms pressing mercilessly tight against my neck, threatening to cut off my airways.
In my blackening vision, Sasha was tugging her hair in frustration, screaming at me to fight back. Val had his lips pursed, worried lines creasing his forehead as both his fists rested inside the ring, looking like he was about to climb onto the platform and get me out.
“Lilia! Focus!” Sasha hollered from the bench, her hands cupping both sides of her mouth, amplifying her voice over the clamoring crowd. “Find a way out!”
I was panting heavily, kicking my feet against the ring’s floor, wedging my body up. My mind quickly ran through my position, assessing an opening and where I would strike to escape the grip.
There was no way I would yield. This was my first fight, and I had to make a good impression. I forced my sight to look up at my opponent, seeing that he had left his neck unguarded. My head was pressed against his abdomen, and my hands choked on his arms to prevent him from strangling me even further.
An idea came to my mind, and I acted in haste before this round would be over. I lifted my legs, bending my waist upwards, stretching them as far as I could go until I reached his neck. I swiftly wrapped them around his head, locking my knees at the back of his neck, and then mustering all of my might, I hurled him with one forceful move. His body soared above me and he released his grip on my neck. He rolled a few arm spans away from me, while I took a deep breath and pushed myself up.
I immediately turned him face down, capturing his left arm and twisting it right onto his back while I seated myself on top of him, one knee pinning him down, completely immobilizing him. I bit the Velcro tape on the glove of my right hand, shrugging it off and grasping a handful of his hair, tugging his head back. He was writhing underneath me, struggling to free himself, but I added more force and pushed him even further against the surface.
“You yield, and I’ll crack your neck,” I hissed, releasing his hair, and then cupping his chin, threatening to twist his neck in one fluid motion if he dared to move. “Your choice. None here would care if I killed you.”
He went completely still. His breathing became ragged and rapid. The crowd went silent and the tension grew thick with anticipation, waiting for the next movement. I had no intention of killing him. This duel was not a murder sight; I only said it to instill fear into his head and make him reconsider his options.
“Bitch!” he snarled, and then he tapped his hand thrice on the ring’s floor, indicating that he had lost the match, followed by the words I longed to hear.
“I yield!”