L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Her counter? A controlled, but nonetheless oppressive flurry of blows. She kept her focus, keeping her eyes open for any openings his guard left open. Were his arms held out a little too far in front of him? A fist would speed over to the side and test his body. Do they start to lower? She'd plug the space with an overhand. A jab here. An uppercut there. His arms themselves would receive their fair share of trying punches, and his legs wouldn't be left out either, being punished with the occasional kick. All of it fueled by her anger at the sheer, unmitigated gall that this absolute nothing had in thinking that he was going to bring her down with cheap tricks in front of her countrymen. Every single blow would say to him, "Watch yourself, boy!"

The crowd erupted with applause, loving how these two were skipping the typical prodding, testing, "what are you about" rigmarole to go wild at the very beginning.

Monique would maintain her heated offensive until one of two things happened: When either the pressure made him fall, either straight down to the mat or to a smaller position deeper in the corner, or finally triggered something in him that would make him attempt to break free from this essential prison he found himself in.

Grunting, Ivan ignored the dull sensation of getting pummeled in the corner. Arms, legs, body shots and head shots were thrown at him and he ate them like nothing. For him, it was a torrential rain. Heavy and unrelenting, but ignorable. He either blocked or dodge as much as he can within the confines of the corner as Monica continued her assault. Still, his in the backfoot and he needed to regain momentum.

The roaring crowd didn't help either with them crowing her words.

Having enough, Ivan decided to act at the moment she punched an extended jab. Eyes narrowed and arms up for a guard, he waited like a snapping turtle.

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