THE SWEETEST SCIENCE

1:14 PM:  MIKE BOXER - BOXEADOR12:12 Ackerman_Mikasa: I walk right up to the center, no hesitation in my step. The moment we stand face to face, the noise of the arena fades into a low, distant hum—just you and me now. I look you dead in the eye, still biting down on my mouthpiece, my expression unreadable. I don’t smirk, don’t blink, just tilt my chin up a little, scanning you like I’ve already figured you out. I raise my gloves to touch, giving you that moment of mutual respect… but it’s not friendly. It’s war protocol. My body’s still moving like it’s part of a machine, calm and collected, but inside? The storm’s already howling. I take one slow step back after the glove touch, roll my shoulders, and bounce once on the balls of my feet—just enough for my belt to glint under the lights. Eren leans on the ropes behind me, arms crossed, watching you like a hawk. Armin’s calm, calculating. Reiner’s locked in, and Hange? She’s smiling way too wide. I mutter to myself, just low enough that only I can hear: "Let’s see if that power of yours comes with discipline… or if you’re just another brawler who thinks they’ve seen enough.".. And then, I wait for the bell.

12:16 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: I pound your gloves feeling your strenght... Helen massaging my shoulders as ref does his thing... I llok into your eyes, chin high, ready to face you... I go back to my corner and Helen exits the ring patting my shoulder... "you go champ.... make me proud" she mutters... I fix my eyes on yours, biting my mouthguard... ready for the fray... and the bell rings DING DING

12:19 Ackerman_Mikasa: The moment that bell sings, I’m already in motion—tight footwork, no wasted steps, circling right. My boots whisper against the canvas, smooth and sharp, like a blade dragging just above the surface. My gloves stay close to my chin, elbows in tight, but my left hand floats just a bit forward, twitching, like a serpent teasing the strike. I watch your stance, your breath, the twitch of your shoulders—and then I start touching your guard. flicking a few crisp left jabs. Pop-pop. Not meant to hurt, not yet. Just to test your shell, your patience, your rhythm. I want to feel how you react. Then without a blink, I dip just slightly and pivot, letting my hips twist as I drive a left low hook straight into your ribs—short and brutal, the kind that steals breath before a fighter even knows they’re hurt. My eyes stay locked on yours the whole time, reading everything, never giving anything away. No words, just war.

12:29 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: bell rings and you jump forward, all business... I lift my guard, orthodox stance, moving forward meeting you in the center of the ring. Head behind my gloves... elbows clenched... your eyes fiz on mine... you get in distance and PFFF PFFF slam my guard with your jabs... I keep my guard in place studying you... move to my left... then your hook slams my elbow hard... feel the brutal power behind it... I get closer and USH fire aleft hook aimed to your ribs to test your guard keeping my right on my chin

12:39 Ackerman_Mikasa: I feel your hook coming just a twitch in your shoulder, just enough. My right elbow snaps down, catching your shot on the point, redirecting it off my guard with a sharp grunt. My core tightens instantly as I twist into a tight counter right hook toward your exposed side, fast and mean, looking to let you know this isn’t just finesse—it’s violence honed to a blade. As soon as the counter leaves my glove, I slip low, torso folding down with my chin tucked, gloves still up. I weave under your potential return, pivoting on my lead foot, and drive upward, launching a powerful right straight aimed at your face, knuckles tight behind the leather, breath sharp through the mouthpiece. If it lands, I don’t let up. My left shoulder comes forward next, a stiff jab aimed right between your eyes to blind you, followed by a tight left uppercut under your chin, meant to snap the head back

12:46 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: you stop my blow and counter fast UGGG your hook slams my ribs hard... I lean forward with ym right still tucked to my chin and UFFF is absorbs some of your right.... and though my glove stops your jab, your upper UGHH enters my guard and jerks my head upwards... the punch is brutal and sharp, but I soak it, and my head returns to its place... since we are still close I USH try to counter moving fast and driving a hard cross right against your left cheek hoping to catch you before the left can go back to its place... then keep close covering with my right and USH fire a left upper aiming to your body...

12:53 Ackerman_Mikasa: You try to catch me slippin’ and yeah, that cross comes fast, but I*weave right under it, head tilting just enough to feel the wind of it skim past my hair. But we're too close, and your left uppercut slams into my abs "ughh"I grunt through clenched teeth, but my core's tight, my sixpack like stone. I eat it like it’s breakfast. And while you’re still resetting from that shot, my right foot shifts back half a step, just enough space, just enough time, and I fire a right straight right down the pipe aimed square at your nose. Clean, quick. The moment it lands, or even if it doesn’t—I use that momentum to push off and slide back, resetting my stance with grace, boots light on the canvas. Gloves come up, tight to my face again, eyes never leaving yours.

13:00 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: you avoid my blow but the punch to your abs lands... I feel they are stell... but steel can bend... suddenly you UGHH slam my nose hard with a sharp punch and then jump back resetting your guard in an instant... I shake my head and smile... you are really great... I got a fight in my hands... and I am not running from it! I move forward, chin low, covering it with my right... my left pointing forward, ready to enter the distance again... your gloves firmly on your face, you jump side to side... studying you... I move forward and USH USH jab twice with my left testing your guard... getting closer and ready for another exchange of blows...

13:08 Ackerman_Mikasa: I feel the rhythm of your footwork, the intent behind those jabs—not just pokes, they’re measuring tools. You're trying to walk me down, take back control. I welcome it. The first jab thuds into my guard. The second, I slip left, just enough for air to pass between us. I step in, not giving you time to react, cutting the ring and flipping the script. My right shoulder twitches—fainting the overhand you probably expect—but instead I twist my hips and rip a left hook straight toward your jaw. It's sharp, compact, meant to rattle,not a finisher, a test of your chin. Whether it hits clean or glances, I stay in the pocket, gloves tight, breath steady. No backing up. You're bigger, but I want the phone booth. Then I drop low, planting my feet as I drive a short, brutal right uppercut to your guts. Tight arc, no windup, just perfect technoque. I'm not looking to impress—I'm trying to steal your air, close quarters now. No room for comfort.. just fists, breath, and will.

13:13 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: you are ready and counter fast... you want it close... so do I... it's my kinda fight... close... as my second jab flies you move forward and I cannot be as fast as you... luckily my right is firmly clenched on my chin and your hook slams my glove harmlessly... you then UGHHH drill into my body with a brutal sharp hooks that really hurts... I pufff... but as it lands I try to counter fast and USH throw a left cross aiming to your right eye over your lowered right... and try to follow it with USH a right hook aiming to your (I expect) open jaw...

13:19 Ackerman_Mikasa: Your left cross comes fast, sharp aimed with intent—but my reflexes snap into place. I bring my left glove up, deflecting the punch just enough to take the sting off it. My feet shift instinctively, weight rolling back as your right hook follows—mean and well-timed, but I’m already moving. I bring my right glove tight to my cheek and absorb it, my body braced with steel in my legs, tension through my core. It thuds, but doesn’t break me. My jaw’s still locked, eyes still locked on yours. Still, your power undeniable—and I’m forced to step back, two quick, sharp hops to regain space. My gloves stay high, elbows tight. I’m not retreating, I’m resetting, drawing a new line in the ring. I breathe through my nose, calm and focused, nodding just once as if to say, "Good punches." And just like that, I circle again.

13:26 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: as I notice you avoided my punches expertly, I prepare to go on and you jump back, showing your agility and knowledge... you jump back, though, knowing that a close quarters fight is not your best chance against an opponent like me... you are studying me again, thinking of new strategies... "good punches" you utter... I nod... "thank you... you are great too" I say, biting my mouthpiece... for now no damage is dangerous... your gloves have poison... but I can stand some punishment in the ring... my advantage is the power, yours is the flashing speed and agility... so I put up my guard... plant my feet in the ground and let you come to me... "c'mon" I taunt you "You cannot knock me out from that far, slugger" I say...

13:30 Ackerman_Mikasa: I hear your taunt through the roar of the crowd, clear and steady. That smirk on your face says you mean it. You plant your feet like a mountain, daring me to bring the storm. I don't answer right away. Just stare. Cold. Focused. Then I roll my neck once, loosen my shoulders, and start forward—slow, measured steps. I don't rush in, not yet. I'm not here to play by your rules. "You sure about that?" I mutter, voice low but cutting through the tension. I feint a quick jab to your gloves, just to see if you’ll twitch, then circle left, then right again, boots silent against the canvas. I step in, sharp, and snap a quick left jab to your forehead, not for damage—just to cloud your vision. Then, instantly, a right hook to your guard, testing your shell again.. but the real deal comes when I dip low like I’m going for the body again— instead I rise with a sudden, slicing left uppercut aimed at your chin, tight and explosive, using the bend of my knees and my core to generate the force. You want me to come to you? I’m here. And I’m not just speed—I’m sharp steel wrapped in motion.

13:31 Ackerman_Mikasa: (r1-t6)

13:47 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: You accept the bait and come closer... I am ready... my head is lowered and you fire a sharp punch against my forehead over my guard and then PFFFF your hook slams my guard... opening it a bit... as I feel it you already are moving in a blur and before I can cover myself better your left enters and UGHHHH slams my chin hard jerking my head backwards... steel punch indeed, I shake my head and soak it... as you keep close I step forward and USH try to hit your ribs hard with a solid right hook and then stay close and as I move my shoulder lke preparing a left follow up to my right I tr to surprise you and pay you back with an upper right aimed to your chin

13:47 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r1-t6)

13:54 Ackerman_Mikasa: Your right hook slams into my ribs "ngh!" a heavy thud, no doubt about the weight behind it. I take the hit, grit my teeth through the tight burn spreading across my side, but my eyes never leave you. I see it. The shift in your shoulder. That tiny tell. You're winding up something bigger, thinking I’m too hurt or too focused on the body shot to notice. But I read it in real time. The moment your shoulder twitches like you’re about to launch that sneaky uppercut, I slip hard to my left, head weaving outside your punch, boots sliding tight to the canvas. And as your glove slices the air where my chin just was, I twist my hips into a brutal counter right hook, not to your glove or guard—straight to your exposed jaw. It's punishing, fast, and violent. You gave me a window, and I tore it open. The whole crowd gasps, but I’m not listening. I stay tight, sharp, ready to follow up, waiting to see how you wear that one.

13:55 Ackerman_Mikasa: (r1-t7)

14:02 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: my glove lands hitting your side hard... I know it hurts, and I know I must make some more hurt there too... but you are too fast to fall from my faint... as my hook flies finding nothing but air I am unbalanced and before I can put my left properly up GUHHH your hook slams my jaw hard dead on... feel its power rattling me and almost tearing my jaw off my face and making my mouthguard fly... but I keep to remain it in its place... sweat drops fly from the impact... brutal blow... if you were a bigger boxer you would have ripped my head off... poiosn in your gloves indeed... but I can take some punishment... instinctively turtle up leaning forward keeping myself close... I am soaking the punch... knees are steady, though the punch was brutal... take my breath and wait to see what you come up with now...

14:03 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r1-t7)

14:12 Ackerman_Mikasa: My Ackerman power should've sent you drooling to the canvas, i'm used to toss even bigger men down.. yet you manage to stand. I grith my teet, knowing that the first round is about to end, i keep going, full force. You lean forward, trying to kedp you protetcted. I quickly step around you to your right, firing a left close hook at your liver as i dip down. Following up another slip, this time i duck down to the opposite side, going for your face with a right and a left hook, bot aiming at your jaw with a super-human power. USH! USH! i keep delivering blows, trying to keep you on your defense, with a flurry of right and left hooks i aim at your ribs, lower abs and face too.

14:12 Ackerman_Mikasa: (R1-t8)

14:17 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: you are encouraged by that punch, and you don't reel back... didn't expect you to... I am leaninf forward and hook slams my elbow... your face punches slam my forehead harmlessly... you keep on trying to push me back with a flurry of fast punches... the number of punches makes them less effective, and I am focused... they slam my guard and elbows... one of then UFFF hits my ribs hard... I know the end of the round is close... but I don't want to end the round without another attemp... I lean forward and as another UFF of your punches slams my abs i USH fire a sharp cross right aiming to your (hopefully) unprotected face trying to slam your left eye hard

14:17 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r1-t8)

14:42 Ackerman_Mikasa: You lean into the storm, absorbing my flurry behind your tight shell. My fists smack into your guard, elbows, and forehead—loud but not lethal. One of them drives hard into your ribs, but you're still upright, still focused. I can see it in your stance—you’re waiting, planning something. Then you fire that sharp right cross, and I see it just late—my left glove is low from the combo. I start to pull back, but not fast enough. The punch catches my left cheek, turning my head sharply to the side. My jaw clenches, and a grunt escapes through my mouthguard. I reset my feet, ready to fire back— But then the bell rings. DING DING. I exhale sharply through my nose, lowering my gloves. The tension breaks, just for a second. I backpedal to my corner, not showing any pain as i left the first round quite untouched, just that icy focus still locked in. I sit down on my stool, breathing steady but sharp. Armin is already leaning in. “You're still reading him like a book,” he says. “He’s looking for mistakes—don’t give him any.” Eren stands just to the side, his arms crossed, nodding. “Keep making him chase. You’ve hurt him already.” Hange gives me a quick splash of water over my shoulders and neck, grinning wildly. “Your footwork’s messing with his rhythm. Next round, take his legs from under him.” Then Reiner steps in close, crouching slightly. his hands gently start working across my bare abs, pressing his palms and thumbs into thespots where your punch landed earlier. The contact is firm but careful, warm against my belly.

14:42 Ackerman_Mikasa: I tense up for a moment, surprised—and then feel heat rise to my cheeks. My gaze shifts away, trying to play it off. Armin notices, of course, and gives me a subtle smirk without saying a word. “You good?” Reiner asks, focused, his voice low. “Yeah… just a little frustrated” I mutter, still looking away. “Solid tummy,” he says with a small grin. “You took that better than anyone else could’ve.” I exhale slowly, steadying my breath again, letting him finish the massage even as the blush lingers on my face. Then my eyes flick back across the ring, locking on my opponent like nothing happened.

14:42 Ackerman_Mikasa: (END OF ROUND 1)

16:14 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: my glove lands clearly and stops your furious flurry of punches... my glove slams your face and you grunt feeling the punch... you prepare to counter and then DING DING... bell rings... I am breathing hard... I walk to my stool and Helen clears the sweat and takes a good look... "no damages yet champ, but be careful! she sure can hit like a machine! you are slower than her... your chance is to keep close and hurt her, work her ribs and eyes and try to break her rythm. She is good, but you can beat her" I nod, drinking a sip of water as I see your entourage surrounding you... "damn they must cost her an eye of her face in salaries" grunt... "focus... you must cover yourself better and find space for good punches or she will weaken you" I nod again... Helen knows a LOT about boxing... I pound my gloves together as the rest is about to end... crowd yells as they get reay for another round...

16:24 Ackerman_Mikasa: I stay quiet during the final seconds of the break, letting Reiner finish massaging my abs, my face composed again, calm, unreadable. Armin gives me one last bit of strategy, Eren bumps my fist, and Hange grins like it’s all just a show. But my focus is absolute. I rise from my stool with quiet determination, rolling my neck side to side, the scarf long gone, my gloves tight at my sides. My boots whisper against the canvas as I step forward, locking eyes with my opponent again across the ring. The ref gives the signal. DING DING. Round two begins I don’t waste time: I push off my back foot and close the distance, cutting a sharp angle as I begin circling around him, tight and controlled. My gloves are high, elbows in, body weaving just slightly, side to side. Not rushing—but not letting him breathe either. I’m on him like a shadow.

16:24 Ackerman_Mikasa: (R2 t1)

16:29 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: I am ready... I see your crowd leave the ring... Helen palms my shoulder... "go at her" and exits too... DING DING round 2 begins... I see how you come forward, focused... your guard is perfect... I put my guard up too... left a bit ahead, right covering my chin... I move forward... we are in the distance... I don't wait more and open fire USH USH firing a fast double left jabaiming to your face getting into the right distance even if I know these punches will probably be stopped... but my plan is to keep this fight close, and wait for good openings...

16:29 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (R2 t1)

16:36 Ackerman_Mikasa: I move with precision, my footwork light and swift as I begin to dance just out of range of your jab. I weave, head slipping slightly with each of your left jabs, ducking and dodging, letting the punches whiz by as I stay on my toes, always ready. Then—I close in. I take a small step forward, leading with my left foot, drawing you in as I slip inside your guard. With a sharp twist of my hips, I slam a powerful low left hook straight to your stomach, aiming for that tender spot just above your waist. The force behind it’s like a hammer, meant to hurt and let you gasp out air. I don’t wait for a reaction i step back and im already circling, my guard tight.

16:36 Ackerman_Mikasa: (R2 t2)

16:42 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: you stop my punches and move too fast for me UFFFFFF your glove drills expertly into my gut hitting hard... air escapes my lungs... I suck some air, as you jump back... punch hurts but I resist... "c'mon darling... you ain't gonna win this from so far away..." I grunt taunting you... COVER YOURSELF yells Helen... I stay close to you... my gloves firmly covering my face and elbows clenched to my sides... getting close again... study you, looking for a chance...

16:42 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r2 t2)

16:47 Ackerman_Mikasa: smirk, cold and controlled. “I figured you’d take the first step,” I say quietly, voice like a whisper in the storm. “Isn’t that what a gentleman’s supposed to do?” Then I move—fast. I step forward with a sudden right jab aimed at your face, sharp and fast, just to snap your guard open. A left follows right behind it, tighter, more direct, targeting the same spot to keep your hands up. And while your focus is up high, I twist and sink low, driving a right hook straight into your stomach, aiming for the same battered muscle I punished before. I’m not just testing your guard now—I’m testing your pride.

16:47 Ackerman_Mikasa: (R2 t3)

16:50 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: you come fast after taunting me back... I don't move... I brace myself... I PFFF PFFF stop your punches on my guard, keeping it high and then UGHHH your glove slams my gut back again... as I suspected you would do... but this time I am ready... and you don't jump back, you stay close... and as your right glove lams my body I jerk my left back and USH fire a cross left punch aiming to your right eye trying to stop your rythm and then USH try a follow up with an upper right aimed to your chin

16:56 Ackerman_Mikasa: My glove drives deep into your stomach again—but this time, you're ready. I feel it in the way your body doesn’t buckle. I stay close, pressing in, ready to unleash more—Then I see your shoulder move it's too late.Your left slams into the side of my head, snapping it to the right. My vision rattles, a flash of static in the edges, but I don't back off. I grit my teeth, tightening my guard—But then your uppercut comes up fast, sharp and brutal, catching me square under the chin. My head jerks up, mouthguard clacking between my teeth. I grunt, the hit solid, jarring—but I stay upright.I stumble half a step back, blinking once, licking the inside of my cheek..I raise my gloves again

17:00 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: though my gut hurts like hell my combo catches you and rattles you hard! crowd yells as we keep on battling in the center of the ring no quarter given... I see you reel back a bit and blink accussing the upper... I keep close... I know you are not as hurt as it could lok... as you raise your gloves I try to keep the pressure up and remind you a bit about your busted ribs and USH fire a hard right hook aimed to your ribs as I keep my left close to my face and expect your counter

17:01 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r2 t4)

17:03 Ackerman_Mikasa: As you come forward, I watch your right hook come—aimed right for my ribs again. This time, I’m ready. I deflect your blow, stepping to the side just enough to let it graze off my guard, but not land clean. I shift my weight and drive a heavy uppercut straight into your open stomach, sinking it deep, feeling the force shake your core. Before you can react, I don’t stop—I keep digging, following with two more quick punches. A sharp left jab to your chest, then a right hook to your ribs, aiming for that tender spot I’ve been working. I’m on you again—relentless.

17:03 Ackerman_Mikasa: (R2 t4)

17:10 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: my glove will not slam your ribs this time... you were ready and suddenly I get UGHHH hit hard on my gut again... I puff loudly... these blows are starting to take their toll... I resist... then UGH UGGGG the chest punch is wearable but the blow to my ribs hurts like helll... I grunt with the impacts and try to resist... my chance is to counter and try to pay you back blow by blow... Helen yells MOVE BACK!!! and I don't listen... I try to hit your temple with a fast hard right cross and then move my shoulder like preparing a left straight punch and suddenly USH try to go low agaisnt your ribs with a solid right hook

17:14 Ackerman_Mikasa: I see it coming—the hard right cross aimed straight for my temple. I lean back, just out of range, feeling the wind brush past me as your punch narrowly misses. At the same time, I don’t wait. I fire a devastating right overhand, crushing into your nose with the full force of my body behind it. The impact is brutal, sending a shockwave through the ring if it lands. Before you can even think about recovering, I step forward, pushing my advantage. I drive a powerful left straight to your solar plexus, keeping the pressure up. I slip under your guard to the aide,and with a fast twist of my body, I deliver a hard right hook to your jaw, aiming to send you reeling back or even worse.

17:18 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: I am slower... your body punches have weakened me and my move is too slow... you avoid my blow and hit my nose fast UGHHHHHH slamming it hard... I blink twice accusing the punch... then UGHHHh you hit my solar plexus and I suddenly gasp for air... and the perfect right hook UGHHHHH slams my jaw hard like a ton of bricks... I stumble two steps to my right... knees a bit wobbly... I try to recover as I know you will be coming for the kill as Helen shouts COVER UP DAMN YOU...

17:18 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r2 t5)

11:58 Ackerman_Mikasa: I see the stumble, the hesitation, and I don’t waste a second. The second your knees falter, my eyes narrow—I’m already moving. Boots thudding against the canvas, I start chasing you down, sharp and relentless. The crowd roars, sensing the shift, the momentum screaming in my favor. You’re backing up, trying to recover, but I don’t let you. I press in, tight guard, stalking you with purpose until your back brushes the ropes near the corner. If im succesful I plant my feet and smash heavy punches straight into your guard, one after another, right into your gloves and forearms, testing the cracks. The impact echoes like gunshots, each punch forcing you to give up space, to bend just a little more. My eyes stay cold, unblinking. Then, I shift slightly, just enough to create the opening. I pivot my hips and launch a brutal left hook to the side of your head, and the second it lands or even if it nudges past your defense, I would twist the other way and slam a right hook to the opposite side. left and right steel hammers. No mercy, i'm not letting you breathe. Not here. Not now, that you are right where i wanted you to be.

11:58 Ackerman_Mikasa: (r2 t6)

10:59 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: I am turtling up knowing a storm is coming... a bit dazed but as my back touches the ropes I regain a bit of my focus... PFFFFPFFPFFFPFFF your blows slam my guard in heavy succession and I cannot do anything but stop them as I can.... then I feel how your hook slams my right glove hard opening my guard and as I remain trying to focus GHHHHGGGG your right simply crashes on my temple hard... drops of sweat fly... I slam the ropes hard, blinking... trying to soak the punch... my guard lowers a bit... I try to stand leaning on the ropes but I am in dire trouble...

10:59 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r2 t6)

15:34 Ackerman_Mikasa: My fists aren't just heavy now—they’re sharp, hungry, each one zeroing in on the smallest cracks in your wilting guard. I don’t waste a single breath or motion. I don’t just throw. I pick, aim, and punish. I snap a hard left straight into your guard, feeling the resistance in my knuckles, then feint low with a quick, sharp drop of my hips. My boots dig into the canvas, left foot slightly forward, knees bent to spring. I whip a brutal right hook up high, crashing right between your eyes, snapping the sweat clean off your forehead in a misty spray. Every hit isn't just noise—it’s a hammer slamming down judgment. Loud. Sharp. Final. Behind me, Armin’s voice slices through the noise of the crowd, high and urgent. "Now, Mikasa! Now! Drop him!" Eren follows, shouting raw and fierce. "Knock his ass down! Finish him!" Their words blast through my veins like pure fire. My eyes stay locked on you—half-slumped against the ropes, arms sagging, legs wobbly. You're still standing, but barely. Everything inside me coils tighter, sharper, deadlier. Time to send you crashing down. I plant my feet wide for full power, toes gripping the canvas, my body lined up like a bow ready to release hell. I surge forward and unleash my signature combo with violent precision. First, a blistering right straight rockets from my shoulder, cutting through the centerline like a bullet, hammering into your already battered nose. a spray of sweat flying off your hair like shattered glass under the lights even if you manage to block my punch. Before your guard can even react, I dip low in one fluid, vicious motion. My left foot slides forward, knees dropping, and I drive a ruthless left uppercut deep into your exposed stomach, the leather sinkind deep into your large, chubby stomach. And then—I uncoil from the ground, pushing up with my left foot, twisting my hips and shoulders as i fix my feet to the canvs, pushing through the heelss, and launch a monstrous right uppercut under your chin with everything

15:35 Ackerman_Mikasa:

15:35 Ackerman_Mikasa: (r2 t7)

10:16 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: I am abrely standing after that right slammed me and you give me no mercy... GUGGGGHHHH your right hits my face again and it really rocks me... head jerked back... blinking... trying to focus... guard lowering... then GUHHHGHGGGGG another right flattens my nose, sending me backwards.... I am sure Helen is shouting but cannot hear her... the UGHHHHHH a brutal blow to my gut that leaves me breathless and makes me lean forward... stunned... barely standing... until your GHGUGHGUGGGHHHH wicked right upper slams my chin with all your power behind and it is lights out for me... my head bounces back... drops of sweat fly... then my knees give up and I fall to my knees limp... and then SHUMM slam the canvas face first, falling totally KOed after that brutal combo than simply obliterated me....

10:16 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: (r2 t7)

12:25 Ackerman_Mikasa: The final uppercut sends shockwaves through your body. I feel it—the way your chin snaps skyward, how your arms loosen right after, how your knees finally buckle like broken pillars beneath you. You drop forward, collapsing slowly, heavy as stone. The crowd erupts like a thunderclap, but my eyes are only on you. From my corner, I hear Armin shout, voice cracking with adrenaline, "That’s it! He’s done!" Eren yells louder, fists slamming against the top rope, “Hell yes, Mikasa! That was beautiful!” Hange’s voice cuts through as well, wild with pride and chaos: “What a combo Mikasa!” Even Reiner grunts with a low, impressed whistle.The moment your knees hit the mat, I already know it’s over. Your body slumps forward, weightless and beaten, and your face drops against my stomach—right against the firm wall of my sixpack, slick with sweat and heat. You stay there for a second, like your last instinct was to reach for something solid before the lights went out. I let you rest there, just for that brief moment. Then I step back, smooth and deliberate. As your head slides off my abs, it drags some of the sweat with it, brushing your cheek before gravity takes over and you collapse face-first into the canvas with a heavy thud. The arena explodes behind me—shouting, stomping, chaos—but I don’t turn to look. I just take a few steps back, boots silent on the mat, letting the ref move in to check on you. I’m breathing deep, steady, shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of a body that knows the job is finished. I don’t raise my gloves. I don’t yell. I stand still in front of my corner, eyes locked on you, letting the referee decide if you’re even in this fight anymore.

12:30 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: I lie down on the canvas... breathing hard, almost unconscious... Helen yells GET UP NOW from a thousand miles away but I cannot even think of moving... not a single reaction or attempt to roll or to get up... ref gets closer looking at me... he leans forward checking my state... he looks to the judges and makes the clean sign of "the fight is finished"... crowd erupts in yells and cheers as they realize I am completely out, no count needed... Helen enters the ring and kneels at my side, checking me out and trying to relive me with some salts... as the crowd gets crazy and the ref goes towards your corner...

12:42 Ackerman_Mikasa:

12:45 Ackerman_Mikasa: He takes one look at you, sprawled on the mat, barely breathing, eyes unfocused, and waves it off. Done. The crowd explodes. Some scream your name in disbelief, others are already roaring mine. Lights flash. Voices blur. But my focus stays steady, planted in the ring like everything around me is just noise. And then Eren bursts into the ring. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t say a word. He just grins wide and grabs me by the waist, lifting me clean off the canvas like I weigh nothing. My legs dangle for a second as he pulls me up onto his shoulders, holding me high like I’m a war trophy. His back is tense, proud. I feel the rise of his breath under me, his voice loud enough to rattle the arena. "That’s my damn queen! That’s how you do it!" The crowd roars louder. Jean slides in right after, half out of breath, half in awe. He doesn’t speak either just walks straight up and places the Eldian Undisputed Championship belt into my hand like it belongs there. Like it always has. The gold catches the light, shining just like the moment. Armin climbs in too, clapping, his smile soft and a little awkward as always, but proud. Always proud. I hop down off Eren’s shoulders, landing light on my feet. My body’s still glistening with sweat, chest rising steady, not a single mark of damage showing through. My arms are flexed just from the movement—but then I raise my right bicep fully, flexing hard with a slow grin. For the first time all match, my lips curl into a smile of pride.

12:47 Ackerman_Mikasa: “That's my champ!” Eren yells, his voice full of pride, and I can barely stop myself from smiling. Jean is right behind him, a little breathless, but his eyes wide with blind confidence as he knew i was gonna win. He steps forward and places the championship belt in my left shoulder, the belt from Eldia with the scout regiment logo gleaming under the bright lights. . Armin follows, clapping awkwardly, his face bright with excitement. His voice cracks as he cheers, but it’s genuine. “You did it, Mikasa! You really did it!” I hop down from Eren’s shoulders, the mat under my feet still slick with sweat, and take a moment to show off, my muscles rippling as I show the crowd just how much power I still hold. My smile is small, but it’s the first one I’ve worn tonight, and it’s full of quiet pride. I look down at you, still on the canvas, your body unmoving. Helen is by your side, desperately trying to bring you back, but it’s clear—the fight is done. I won, and not just in the ring. This is the kind of fight people will remember.

12:55 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: I feel all happening a thousand miles away... then I feel the effect of the salts... I start rolling to my side until Helen holds me, but I stare at the ceiling blinking trying to come back... I hear the announcement and see through a blur how oyu get the belt and salute the crowd... totally stunned and face battered... Helen says "it's OK champ... it's OK" but I know today I was totally outboxed by a superior fighter... as I start coming back, still stunned, I nod... I watch as you are crowned the champ and you salute the crowd... I admire your skill and determination... "help... me... get up" I grunt to Helen... she slowly helps me up as you salute the crowd... I lean on the rop rope, legs unsteady... I look towards you... "she... is damn... good" I grunt as Helen holds my shoulder and checks my state...

13:12 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: and now this blares through the arena... "annnnnnd the WINNER tonight... by KNOCKOUT at the ending of the second round... MIKAAASAAAA AAAAAAAACKERMAAAAAANNNN"

13:12 MIKE_BOXER_-_BOXEADOR: THE END