Another minute passed.
Theo started to feel the rhythm.
He had blocked Petrov's early jabs, stuffed a fake level change, and stayed calm under pressure.
That quiet doubt from the walk-in had faded. His feet moved faster now. His guard was looser, not lazy, just natural.
He stepped in with a hard jab. It landed.
He followed with a low kick, chopping at Petrov's lead leg. Clean.
Petrov stayed composed, but Theo saw him shift his stance for a second. That was a small win.
Damon, watching from the corner, didn't yell. He watched closely, arms crossed, letting Theo find the pace.
Theo stepped in again, doubling the jab, then throwing a short right hand to the body. It grazed, but it was enough to push Petrov back.
Confidence grew.
He began stepping first, not waiting. He threw a front kick that Petrov blocked, then faked another low kick before shooting a quick jab upstairs. Petrov guarded tight.
Theo wasn't reckless. He was sharp. But he was also the one applying pressure now.
