Cabello's lips curl into a wider grin. Rather than irritating him, the taunt only fuels his excitement. He surges forward again, this time putting more weight behind every punch, making the combinations looser and less compact.
Dugh.
Dug. Dugh.
They are easier for Ryoma to read, but every block nudges his guard out of position, forcing him to keep adjusting his guard.
Cabello steps in deeper. A jab shoots out, then melts into a feint before he suddenly swings to his right, whipping his arm from far below into a heavy bolo uppercut.
Ryoma sees the exaggerated motion clearly. He leans back while dropping his left glove, ready to intercept.
But it's still another feint, and Cabello instantly lunges in with a stiff left forward.
Ryoma knocks the punch downward, but…
Dhuack!
The glove still slams into the center of his chest, knocking him off balance.
