Wonderboy

[Yuito's POV]

The deafening screams echoed through the stadium and gave the impression that the applause would be neverending.

The light shone down on me, almost blinding me, and gave me the illusion that the only thing that existed in this world was the octagon, my battleground.

I did not feel nervous or awkward like I had on my debut. My body was loose and at ease, like I was on my own living room, in my house and not at the center of a stadium holding 120000 fighting fans from all over the world.

The stadium was filled to the brim with people not only sitting but also standing up due to the lack of seats. It was like ants in an anthill.

There were also celebrities and famous people who attended the match. There were many big screens fixed in the stadium and I watched them as I got my body ready to fight.

On the screen, it showed famous people who attended to watch my fight. There were famous actors, Chris Evans, Robert Downey Junior, Jackie Chan, Will Smith and singers, Rihana, Selena, Bruno Mars etc.

I also saw some important figures like Elon Musk and Donal Trump. Then there were beautiful women like Megan Fox, and Jenefer Lawrence, including my girls Sumire, Marin, and Komi.

I had a smile on my face when they appeared on the big screen. It reminded me that they were here for me and to support me. They were my family.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the time for the main event that you have been waiting for has arrived!!!" The announcer, Bruce Buffer stood at the middle of the Octagon and hyped up the audience while introducing the fighters.

Like he said, my fight this time around was the main event of the night and not just a co main event. It was rare for a normal match to be the main event instead of a title fight. This should speak of my influence and my popularity.

I zoned out the loud noises from my head and focused on my opponent, finally giving a deep analysis of him.

Stephen Thompson - or as most people know him - Wonderboy was a handsome white man who looked to be in his early twenties rather than in his thirties.

He stood exactly as tall as me, 6 feet and he had a body that screamed athleticism. He did not have defined muscles or ripped body but you could see how his body was a perfect balance between muscle and fat.

His arms were not impressive but I noticed he had thick thigh muscles and a very long leg that was made to reach opponents when it should not.

He was also looking at me with a friendly smile and gave me an acknowledging nod.

He was a good guy. He was not interested in having bad blood or trash talking just to sell a fight. He was a true martial artist with respect and honor which made me look forward to the upcoming fight a bit.

"Standing to my right, he is someone who can claim to be the best striker in the world. He had never tasted defeat when it came to pure striking. His skills and fluid movements leave people amazed and in wonder, while it leaves his opponents to wonder why they decided to take the fight in the first place. He is weighing at 170 pounds and at the prime age of his career."

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!!! I PRESENT TO YOU, STEPHEN 'Wonderboy' THOMPSON!!"

He then paused and allowed the audience to applaud Wonderboy before he turned to me.

"Now, for the young man who needs no introduction. He is one of the most anticipated fighters in the world, a man who set the standard for genius and someone who embodies the word of prodigy. Hailing from the island of Japan, he is hoping to win the second fight in his UFC career. GENTLEMAN, and especially LADIES!!! I PRESENT TO YOU, THE PRODIGY, FUJITA YUITO!!!!"

*WHAAAA!!!!*

*YAHHHHH!!*

I waved around at the people as my image was shown on the big screens.

After the introductions were done, we followed the same procedure as before and met in the middle of the octagon.

The referee briefed us on the rules while Wonderboy and I met eyes for a staredown. I activated my killing intent and stared deep into his eyes.

Then something clicked.

His eyes bore back on mine and I almost took a step back in surprise as he met my intent with his own.

His friendly smile and polite demeanor were thrownaway and his face adopted a serious expression. His eyes were like the edge of a sword as they cut my gaze.

I smiled.

"Touch gloves," The referee said and we did. Then we went back to our corner.

*Ting!!!*

The match officially started.

Wonderboy and I approached each other and we both put out our arms to measure the distance between us and also to keep the other away from each other.

The best strategy against Wonderboy was to wrestle him or try to take him down but I did not plan to do that. I wanted to challenge him to a striking match. Let's see the skill level of one of the best kickboxers in the world.

The beginning of the round started slowly as we both launched attacks that did not land but it was necessary as we analyzed each other.

With each movement and kick, we learn about each other. How did he dodge my kick? Which leg did he retreated with? Which part of the body did he try to block first when attacked?

When attacked, with which limb did he instinctively try to counterattack? Where did he look at when he was about to attack? Did he hold his breath before laughing a powerful attack? Does he make a sound?

People often do not realize how smart and precise fighters can be. We note each of those little quirks and tricks of our opponent, for to know your opponent is to win half the war.

I did not think it was even intentional. Like how a footballer solves mathematical equations about where the ball is going to land, how hard etc on an instinctual level, a fighter's mind works the same.

Wonderboy began to throw some boxing combinations toward me and when I felt the sufficient power behind his punches, I knew the fight was getting serious.

It was 1:21 minutes on the clock.

I weave through the attacks with fluid movements that spoke of ease, and I even threw some counter jabs which Wonderboy just blocked with a shoulder roll.

Our hits made sounds that echoed throughout the arena which was quiet as the people watched us exchange blows with bathed breath and anticipation.

2:37 into the match.

Neither of us had landed a clean hit on each other as we danced around the octagon. It was evident in our movements and attacks how proficient we were in striking. It was the UFC but people would argue that we were better in the art of striking.

It was then that wonderboy nodded to himself, seemingly done playing around and took a wide stance. It was a familiar Karate stance, which surprised me a bit.

Seeing him like that, I realized it was time to get serious as well since he was going to give it his all now.

'I know that is a karate stance but isn't that too wide-' My thoughts were cut short as my jaw disappeared and my eyes widened to the limit.

I could almost picture it in my head, how the lower part of my face suddenly disappeared as if a canon had shot through it.

I heard to sound of a blade cutting through air.

*FWOOSH!!*

Then the sound of something hitting something with great force.

*POWW!*

The world became sideways as my head tilted along with whatever hit me.

It was fast. I did not see what it was. Was it a kick, a punch or maybe a bullet?

But whatever it was that hit me, it was fast.

Only when the sound reached my ears did my body even register the damage, and then pain flood my senses. My brain rocked and my eyes turned white.

The sound of the crowd suddenly erupting did not help my disorientation as I stumbled backward.

I passed out for the briefest moment and during that, only my instinct was controlling my body. But you could say I have a really good instinct.

[Animal Instict : Advanced]

I leaned back at the swift backkick that followed the initial attack. It was so quick that you could only hear the sound after the attack already come to pass.

I continued stumbling back like a fighter on the brink of knockout and Wonderboy followed me with two more kicks which I dodged on pure instincts.

Then my back hit the net in a half-sitting position and the cold sensation of steel woke my disoriented mind. My hands blurred to catch the kick that was aimed at my face.

*Boom!*

I could see smoke rising from my hand, such was the power behind the kick. I felt my bones rattle and my hand numbed.

Wonderboy's foot which I caught was mere inches from me as we both stopped and looked at each other.

I tasted the blood in my mouth as I was left to wonder.

How did it happen?

I have my instinct with which I can tell my opponent's danger or at least strength. But I felt no such things from him.

No, if I didn't feel it it would've alarmed me. It was more like I was unconsciously ignoring it. My brain was tricked into not noticing it.

I was tricked into ignoring the fact that he was stronger than Gun.

And his attack - or kicks as I was holding his feet -, I could not see them or feel them coming at all. There was no sound, no picture, heck there was even no intention behind his attacks,

It felt l hit my head in something rather than getting kicked by someone.

.

.

.

.

It left me to wonder...

.

.

'What is this?'

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