THUD.
Rekka doubled slightly, gasping—then came the hooks.
Left to the ribs.
Right to the jaw.
Another to the ribs.
Each one snapping his body sideways, his legs barely keeping him upright as his head rocked back against the turnbuckle.
The crowd roared as Omega stepped back, lungs burning, setting up for the kill.
He charged—foot raised—
—but Rekka rolled out of the corner at the very last heartbeat.
Omega’s boot smashed into the turnbuckle instead of Rekka’s skull.
Rekka, wobbling, turned on instinct alone. With whatever strength he had left, he threw himself forward—
DROPICK!
Both boots crashed into Omega Wolf’s chest, sending the rookie stumbling back into the corner he’d just aimed for. The crowd exploded as Rekka landed on his side, clutching his ribs, clearly hurting from everything he’d absorbed.
Still, he pushed himself up—slow, unsteady, but burning.
He backed to the opposite corner, breathing hard, chest heaving—
Then sprinted forward aiming to crack Omega Wolf with a Running European Uppercut!
Spoiler



