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墨書 Inktalez
Hulk chased angrily, the grin on his face gradually replaced by fury. His massive frame moved across the ring like a moving mountain, each step heavy, his fists swinging like hammers, aimed directly at the young man. However, this pursuit resembled a beast chasing a butterfly in the wind; every strike missed its mark, leaving him to watch helplessly as the agile figure slipped past him.
The young man's feet moved incessantly, light and nimble, like a dancer stepping on the beat, always managing to evade Hulk's attacks just in time. His gaze was calm and focused, as if he had completely deciphered Hulk's movement patterns, anticipating where each of Hulk's steps would land. He struck repeatedly, targeting Hulk's blind spots, delivering sharp jabs that landed solidly against his opponent's body.
"Smack! Smack! Smack!"
The sound of fists hitting their target was crisp and light, yet each impact caused significant annoyance to Hulk. Though these punches lacked the power to inflict serious harm, their relentless rhythm made it difficult for him to concentrate, like a swarm of bothersome mosquitoes buzzing around his ears that he couldn't swat away.
Hulk's rage intensified; the muscles in his face tightened from gritting his teeth, his eyes nearly bloodshot, and his chest heaved violently like an uncontrollable volcano. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, let out a low growl, and shifted all his weight onto his right foot, leaning forward before unleashing a massive swing.
The punch tore through the air with ferocious force, aimed straight at the young man. However, just as the fist was about to connect, the agile figure swiftly slid backward in a clean and precise motion, causing Hulk's attack to once again strike nothing but air.
"Whoosh—!"
The wind from the punch passed by, causing Hulk's body to lose balance slightly with the force of his swing. His roar echoed throughout the ring like a trapped beast in distress, but the young man remained unfazed. Seizing this fleeting moment of opportunity, he rushed forward and unleashed a flurry of punches aimed at Hulk's ribs and abdomen, executing a seamless combination.
"Smack! Smack! Smack!"
This series of punches flowed like a torrential downpour, landing on Hulk's body with muffled thuds. Hulk staggered slightly, instinctively wanting to retreat; however, the young man offered him no respite. Like a hunter pursuing an exhausted prey, he continued to unleash punch after punch, effectively locking down Hulk's movements.
The audience erupted into gasps; no one expected that the young man who had been at a disadvantage moments ago could turn the tide at this moment. His ever-changing footwork and precise strikes completely disrupted Hulk's rhythm.
Hulk attempted to break free, but the fatigue left by his missed swing made it difficult for him to match the young man's speed. His anger did not help him regain control; instead, it made him more agitated. He swung several heavy punches again but still only hit air while the young man's continuous strikes cut through his defenses like a sharp knife.
Mark stood at the edge of the ring, his gaze intently focused on the scene before him, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. He watched as the young man fought back from a dire situation, calmly exploiting Hulk's weaknesses, gradually turning the tide with speed and technique.
"Interesting," Mark murmured, a hint of anticipation in his eyes. He knew that this confrontation was far from over, but the young man had already proven himself worthy of standing in the ring against this raging beast.
Hulk's fury erupted like a volcano, his teeth clenched in frustration as his massive body spun rapidly in the ring, trying to lock onto the elusive young man. Yet no matter how he adjusted his steps or swung his fists, that slender figure always managed to evade his attacks with agile grace, reappearing from his blind spots to deliver precise strikes.
"Smack!"
A punch landed squarely on Hulk's chest, the sharp sound echoing once more. Although this blow lacked significant force, it buzzed around him like an annoying mosquito, preventing him from concentrating. His face reddened with anger, breaths coming in quick gasps; each desperate turn and swing of his fists chipped away at his patience.
"Stop right there, you damn brat!" Hulk roared, fury nearly bursting from his throat. He stepped forward again, swinging his fist in an attempt to catch his opponent. However, once more he swung at nothing but cold air. This punch drained all his strength yet found only emptiness. The gust of wind from his swing brought a chill but had no real effect.
The young man maintained his light-footed movement, gliding across the ring like a dancing butterfly. A faint smile graced his lips, confidence and calmness shining in his eyes. Each of his movements seemed premeditated, perfectly avoiding Hulk's attacks and countering with precise strikes in the next moment.
"Smack! Smack!"
Two quick jabs struck Hulk's ribs and abdomen in succession. Though the punches lacked power, their rhythmic precision drove Hulk further into madness. The situation in the ring was entirely under the young man's control; every step and every punch seemed to dismantle Hulk's confidence piece by piece.
The audience below began to chuckle, some even whistling mockingly. "Hahaha, why has Hulk gotten so slow?"
"Look at him flounder; it's like he's chasing his own shadow!"
These taunts reached Hulk's ears and only fueled his rage further. His punches grew more ferocious, steps more frantic, yet each attack felt futile—an exhausting sense of defeat reddened his face as sweat trickled down from his forehead. He gritted his teeth, eyes blazing with fury, but this anger could only burn within him; it could not be unleashed upon his opponent.
"Damn it!" Hulk bellowed as he suddenly halted mid-stride, chest heaving violently. His fist hung suspended in mid-air, movements stiffening as he realized that if this continued, he would never catch up to the young man. Each turn and swing felt like a joke at his expense.
The young man had completely mastered the rhythm of the fight. He gently sidestepped, his movements flowing like water, and landed another precise jab on Hulk's shoulder. His face remained calm, but there was a hint of control in his eyes. He did not rush to deliver a fatal blow; instead, he continued to disrupt Hulk's rhythm with these jabs, transforming the opponent's fury into a powerless rage.
Laughter echoed louder from the ring, and the audience's jeers filled the air. The more Hulk heard, the angrier he became, yet his movements grew increasingly clumsy. His steps were erratic, and his attacks lacked any strategy, while the young man danced gracefully around the ring, as if playing a game of cat and mouse.
Mark stood outside the ring, leaning against the ropes, quietly observing the scene. A slight smirk curled at the corners of his mouth, his gaze holding a touch of detached appreciation.
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