CHAPTER 754: CHAPTER 754: SMOKE AND FEINTS

Chase moved first.

He didn’t explode forward. He didn’t rush the center. He strolled into range with a bounce in his step, hands low, chin slightly tilted, like he had all the time in the world.

Kaito didn’t bite. His stance was crisp, shoulders high, chin tucked, feet set in that narrow, balanced frame he always used. He didn’t move until he had to.

Chase threw a lazy jab. More a flick than a strike.

Kaito didn’t react, so Chase tried again. This time a little faster, same angle. Kaito leaned back an inch, just enough. He watched Chase’s eyes instead of his hands.

Chase grinned.

He shifted his feet with a quick switch-step, then launched a snappy front kick to the body. It slapped off Kaito’s guard, light but sharp, just enough to test the range.

Kaito adjusted his footing, still not engaging. Chase circled left and fired a hook to the body, too wide, on purpose. A slap, not a dig.

He was playing.

But beneath the casual rhythm, his feet moved well. Every angle opened a lane. Every fake carried weight.

He skipped in again, low feint, and popped a jab upstairs. Kaito parried it clean, and Chase spun away, showboating with a shoulder roll as he circled wide again.

Kaito followed, steady, tight, waiting for the window.

Chase lunged in with a check hook, then instantly slid out before Kaito could even think about answering. He was smiling now.

He dropped his hands and started talking under his breath. No one could hear what he said, just a little grin, a slight shake of the head, a bounce on his heels.

Then he darted in and whipped a spinning back kick to the ribs.

Kaito caught it on the elbow, grunted slightly, and fired a counter straight down the pipe.

Chase leaned his upper body just far enough to let it graze past his chin and smirked again.

But that punch shifted the rhythm.

Kaito stepped in now. One jab, two, not fast but direct. He was testing the frame, seeing what Chase gave up when he leaned and moved.

Chase answered with a hip feint and jabbed low to the belly, just enough to earn a flinch. Then he slipped right, spun left, and tagged the outside of Kaito’s leg with a calf kick.

Fast.

Then he was gone again, skipping backward with both hands down like it was a joke.

Kaito stayed composed, but his eye narrowed. Chase was quick. But he wasn’t reckless. He looked like he was dancing, but he knew the tune.

Chase fake-stepped in again, hands still low, and whipped a looping right that curved over Kaito’s shoulder and clipped the top of his neck. He reset before Kaito could counter.

Then came the real pace.

He shot in again, same step, but this time drove a hard left hook to the ribs. Kaito took it clean, shifted back to fire a straight, but Chase ducked under, popped back up with a jab, and rolled away again.

Every shot was annoying. Not devastating. But they added up.

Chase paused in front of him, shook his shoulders loose, and lifted both hands like, "Is that all?"

Kaito exhaled, patient. He wasn’t reacting emotionally.

But Chase wasn’t slowing. He dipped his head, rolled his shoulders, and sprang forward again, left hook, body shot, right hand, then a sharp upward elbow that barely missed.

Kaito blocked high and returned fire with a short knee up the middle, catching Chase in the chest and halting the flurry. It was subtle, but enough.

Chase backed off, wiped his mouth, nodded to himself.

Then gave a little clap with his gloves.

They reset.

Chase stood there again, hands dropped to his thighs now, legs bouncing lightly, head moving just enough to be hard to read.

He bounced to the side, then pivoted back in, using a blur of footwork, cutting the angle like a matador, throwing a high kick that Kaito blocked, and then he spun out of range before the counter arrived.

Chase moved like the mat was a dance floor and Kaito was just a rhythm to break.

He didn’t wait for a cue. He created his own.

A quick hop-step brought him in with a feint, and instead of throwing a strike, he stuck his tongue out.

Not fully, just enough to be annoying. Then came the jab, quick and sharp, snapping off Kaito’s cheek before he could blink.

Kaito tried to reset, but Chase dipped and came back with a low calf kick, slapping it against the inside of the lead leg.

Then he spun off, tapping the air with his glove like he was conducting an invisible orchestra.

Kaito advanced, chin down, body compact.

Chase just bounced backward, spinning once as if to mock the pressure, then side-stepped and rolled his neck like he was warming up for something far less serious.

Then came the blitz.

Chase dipped low, hands behind his back, and burst forward with a flying knee, not meant to land, but to force a guard reaction.

Kaito covered up high, and Chase landed on the outside, stepped off to the right, and slapped his thigh like a taunt.

Then, pop. A stiff jab snapped into Kaito’s nose.

Kaito wiped it quickly and tried to angle forward, but Chase side-skipped away again, resetting with his back nearly to the cage, daring Kaito to chase.

When he didn’t, Chase shrugged and mouthed something.

Kaito stayed firm.

Chase clapped again, then threw a leaping side kick to the chest, clean contact, pushed Kaito back a step.

As soon as Kaito regained footing, Chase fired a switch kick to the same spot.

Still not heavy, just annoying.

It was mental warfare.

He shuffled left. Then right. Then he planted his feet, exaggerated a wide stance, and beckoned Kaito forward with both hands.

Kaito finally stepped in, and Chase launched a jab that missed on purpose, followed by a spinning backfist that nearly clipped the ear.

Then he dropped low, faked a takedown entry, and when Kaito widened his stance, Chase jumped straight up and fired a knee that skimmed the chest.

He was ridiculous.

But the thing was... he was landing. Not all power. But clean.

He didn’t stop moving. Every angle was a pivot point. Every attack started as something else. A feint, a twitch, a bounce, then the strike.

Kaito tried to trap him near the corner of the cage, stepping in with a tight combination.

Chase ducked the first punch, leaned outside the second, and fired a check hook that tapped Kaito’s temple before dancing out again.

Then he jogged a slow lap around the cage.