The Final Match (Part 1) 021

The referee started the count as Khalid struggled to his feet. The wild grin was gone, replaced with a grimace of pain. Jason's face remained calm, but his eyes burned with renewed focus.

The final round was Jason's showcase of dominance. He dismantled Khalid's defenses with punishing body shots and precise jabs, breaking him down methodically. Every punch was calculated, every movement designed to maximize efficiency.

As the clock ticked down, Jason delivered the finishing blow—a thunderous cross that sent Khalid to the canvas for good. The referee waved his arms, declaring Jason the winner.

The crowd erupted, their excitement now directed toward the inevitable showdown between Jason and Ali in the finals. Jason raised his gloves briefly, acknowledging the cheers, but his face betrayed no emotion. His focus was already on what lay ahead.

As Jason exited the ring, Zahra and Farid rushed over, microphones in hand—or, rather, a phone with a microphone-shaped case.

"Jason! Jason! A quick word for Underdog Weekly!" Zahra said, shoving the phone in his face.

Jason blinked, caught off guard by their sudden approach. "...What?"

"Your thoughts on the finals!" Farid added, adopting a mock-serious tone. "Do you see Ali as a legitimate threat, or are you just here to collect another trophy?"

Jason frowned, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm here to fight," he said curtly, stepping past them.

"Wait!" Zahra called, jogging after him. "What about Ali? Any respect for your rival? A secret friendship? Hidden admiration?"

Jason paused, glancing back at her with an unreadable expression. "He's earned his place. That's all I'll say."

Farid gasped theatrically. "Did you hear that? He respects him! This is headline material!"

Jason sighed, muttering under his breath as he walked away.

From her seat, Crystall had been watching Jason intently. Unlike Zahra and Farid, she didn't approach him. Instead, she flipped through her sketchbook, stopping on a half-finished drawing of Jason mid-fight.

"He's not just fighting to win," she murmured to herself. "He's fighting for something deeper."

Her gaze shifted to Ali, who was laughing with Zahra and Farid. She wondered if Jason saw Ali as more than just an opponent—perhaps even a rival who had pushed him to his limits.

Jason retreated to the locker room, the noise of the arena fading behind him. He sat on the bench, unwrapping his gloves and examining his bruised knuckles. The sting of Khalid's punches still lingered, but it was the thought of Ali that dominated his mind.

He recalled the moment he'd first noticed Ali—a scrappy, inexperienced fighter with more heart than skill. Back then, Jason had dismissed him as another name on the roster. But now? Now Ali was something else entirely. His grit, his growth, his refusal to back down—it had forced Jason to become stronger.

Jason reached for his tape, methodically wrapping his hands as he prepared for the final battle. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Tomorrow, it ends," he murmured, his voice steady and resolved.

For Jason, this wasn't just another fight. It was the culmination of everything he had worked for, and he wasn't about to let it slip away.

The locker room fell silent as Jason's thoughts sharpened into a singular focus: victory.

---

Next day,

The arena buzzed with an electric intensity as the crowd roared, their cheers shaking the very air. The ring sat in the center, a stage for the final battle between two fighters who had fought their way through sweat, blood, and unrelenting determination. Ali and Jason stepped onto the canvas, their presence alone enough to send waves of excitement through the audience.

Ali's gaze locked onto Jason's, his hands tightening into fists as he inhaled deeply. Across the ring, Jason's eyes glimmered with a calm, predatory focus. This wasn't just a fight—it was the culmination of everything they'd endured.

The bell rang.

Jason wasted no time asserting his control. His punches were lightning-quick and brutally precise, forcing Ali to retreat into a defensive stance. A powerful jab connected with Ali's guard, the impact reverberating through his arms.

"Stay sharp, Ali!" Coach Rahman barked from the corner.

But Jason didn't give Ali any breathing room. His footwork was impeccable, cutting off Ali's escape routes and backing him into the ropes. A swift hook to the body left Ali gasping for air, and Jason followed with an uppercut that narrowly missed its mark.

"He's overwhelming him!" Zahra exclaimed, gripping the edge of her seat. "Come on, Ali, fight back!"

Farid, in typical fashion, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Ali, remember the training montage! Channel the Rocky spirit!"

Zahra smacked him on the arm. "This isn't a movie, you idiot!"

Farid grinned. "Not yet, anyway."

Ali weaved and ducked, using every ounce of his reflexes to evade Jason's relentless assault. But the gap in their skill levels was glaringly apparent. Jason's punches came with a precision and power that Ali struggled to match.

A straight cross grazed Ali's cheek, and the crowd winced collectively. He stumbled but quickly regained his footing, his stormy eyes burning with defiance.

Jason's expression remained cold and calculating. He wasn't letting up.

From the stands, Crystall sat quietly with her sketchbook, capturing the raw intensity of the moment. Her pencil moved quickly, sketching Ali's determined expression even as he fought to keep up with Jason's unrelenting pace. She paused, her eyes flickering with worry.

"He's not backing down," she whispered to herself, clutching the book tightly. "But how long can he hold on?"

The audience was a cacophony of voices. Jason's supporters cheered loudly, confident in their champion's dominance. Ali's fans, smaller in number, shouted encouragement with growing desperation.

Zahra and Farid were the loudest in the arena, their antics earning both laughter and glares from those around them.

"Ali, think of all the chicken rice you'll earn after this! Unlimited chicken rice, bro!" Farid yelled, waving his arms.

Zahra groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Can you please not embarrass us right now?"

"Hey, I'm motivating him!" Farid protested.

"Motivating him to throw the match just to shut you up," she muttered.

Despite their humor, both Zahra and Farid shared a deep concern for their friend. They knew Ali was fighting against a mountain of odds, but they also knew his spirit was unbreakable.