Zhuo Yang's face changed abruptly, and he pounced.

Gattuso and Petre Bunasiu confronted each other for ten seconds before they suddenly exchanged hands, which immediately shocked Zhuo Yang.

The eighth master didn't make a move, it was Bunaxiu who took the lead in attacking, but it was just a tentative left-handed jab, which was extremely ordinary. But the eighth master did not shrink his neck and tilt his head to dodge, and the second did not take the opportunity to bend his body and bully himself to fight back, Bunaxiu's jab punched directly on the double fists he set up to protect the front door, and the eighth master's fist was scattered, and the door was opened.

Bunaxiu reacted quickly, followed by two left and right hooks that hit the eighth master's cheeks crisply, with great force, Gattuso's head was completely defenseless, and after receiving a heavy blow, his two arms suddenly softened, and his eyes immediately became sluggish.

Zhuo Yang was stunned! For a moment he seemed to understand everything.

As if drunk, Gattuso staggered back two steps and was caught by the wall of the passage. Although he still wanted to struggle, he still couldn't help but go down the wall and go limp. Bunasius chased after him, raising his fist to continue the blow to Gattuso, who had lost his ability to resist.

Zhuo Yang was shocked and shouted angrily: "You dare! In a hurry, he didn't think about it, and he flew up. Bunaxiu turned around urgently, stepped forward and hit Zhuo Yang with a heavy fist with his right hand.

The deception was close, Zhuo Yang raised his arm to block, letting the swift punch pass by with the sound of the wind, and at the same time swung his right leg and struck the outside of Bunaxiu's left knee like a copper whip.

Thunderous low whip leg, Bunaxiu couldn't help but kick his left leg in pain. At the moment when he collapsed, Zhuo Yang's attacks followed. The left palm slammed into the right elbow and hit both temples of Bunasiu twice in succession, followed by a knee hit with his left leg, which was against the chest of Bunasiu, who was collapsing down.

The old thing spurted blood and was sent flying.

was quite resistant to the beating, Bunaxiu did not fall, but gritted his teeth and stood up straight and raised his fist tenaciously to meet Zhuo Yang, who pounced closely.

In order to prepare for the big battle with Jia Ba Ye at the end of the year, although there is no information about the eighth master, Zhuo Yang still conducted special training for the offensive and defensive weaknesses of boxers, and he did not stop every day. I didn't think about it, I didn't compare it with Gattuso, but I used it on the old man today.

Because of his professional characteristics, the boxer's lower handicap defense is very weak, and he is almost unable to resist the opponent's low whip attack. When the footsteps are restricted, the boxer's punches will become chaotic and the power will naturally be greatly reduced. Wrestling is also a killer weapon against boxers, and ground skills are the boxer's dead end.

All the boxer's combat power is in those terrifying fists, and he specializes in the arts. However, don't think that you can beat boxers if you know their weaknesses, you must know what you are, all weaknesses are for masters, and they are by no means something that ordinary people can bully.

The low whip leg on the left side kicked fiercely again, Zhuo Yang grabbed the soft fist that Bunaxiu barely handed over, slammed his right fist under his armpit, and then grabbed Bunaxiu's arm and picked it up to fall over-the-shoulder.

'Tom! Even if he was dressed thickly in winter, Bunasiu was so beaten that he didn't know his six relatives; Even if the floor of the passage is clean, it is still dusty.

Bunaxiu is actually not so weak, if you only talk about fists, Zhuo Yang is not necessarily his opponent. But the easy knockdown of Gattuso just now made Bunaxiu feel underestimated, and more importantly, Zhuo Yang's targeted practice during this period was fruitful.

Stepping on Bunaxiu's right hand, squatting down and pressing Bunaxiu's abdomen with his left knee to prevent him from struggling, Zhuo Yangshi unleashed his best kung fu - big-eared posts.

'Smack! Syllable! Syllable! ’

"I'll make you disrespectful to the old."

Swing your arm to open the left fist that Bunasius hits pitifully, 'Smack! Syllable! Syllable! ’

"I'll make you choke your neck!"

Then he waved his arm and opened the left fist that Bunasiu hit even more pitifully, 'Smack! Syllable! Syllable! ’

"I'll let you beat Lao Tzu!"

Bunaxiu was drawn into confusion and was completely powerless to resist, and he was crushed by Zhuo Yang. But Zhuo Yang didn't intend to end like this, he pulled the collar and lifted Bunaxiu in half, he turned behind him, sat down against the wall, his two forearms clamped Bunaxiu's neck back and forth, and his right hand reached back from the front to grab the elbow of his left arm.

Naked stranding in a seated lock!

"I'll strangle you old thing!" There was no dead force in his hands, but the intimidation and murderous aura on his lips were fierce.

"Don't think that I don't dare to fight when I'm in my fifties, and I'm not one or two in my eighties." Of course it's bragging, fake.

Bunaxiu panicked, he dared to not be able to shake Zhuo Yang's strong arm in the slightest, he believed that Zhuo Yang was really going to kill him, and Bunaxiu was coaxed under the threat of death.

“…… Plentiful...... Plentiful...... Plentiful...... Life! Bunahio let out a faint wail in his throat, like a dying hen.

"Now you know how to beg for mercy? Now that you know that you messed with someone you shouldn't mess with? ”

"Know...... Road...... ......"

"It's okay to let Lao Tzu let you go, but if you dare to tell today's story, Lao Tzu will chase you and slaughter you at the ends of the earth." Zhuo Yang suddenly became extremely gloomy: "Did you hear clearly!" ”

"Clear ...... Clear...... Finish...... Plentiful...... Destiny ......"

Zhuo Yang let go of the legs that were wrapped around Bunaxiu, then released his arms, and threw him aside with all his might, then stood up and looked at him with a solemn look.

Bunasiu lay on the ground breathing and coughing desperately, coughing bloodstained on the ground. When I was finally able to stand up, my legs were still shaking. "I promise not to say it, absolutely not. I fell on my own, and no one hit me. ”

"You've never been here."

"Yes, yes, I haven't been here, haven't been here......"

"Get out!"

"Yes, yes, I'll get out, get out right away......"

Bunaxiu limped slowly against the wall, and his staggering figure disappeared around the corner of the A9 passage, and Zhuo Yang never dealt with him again, nor did he see this person again.

The passage was secluded, and the eighth master Gattuso sat decadently on the ground against the wall, staring at Zhuo Yang stupidly. At this moment, there was a roar of cheers from above, and tens of thousands of people shouted 'Pippo, Pippo', presumably the ninth master scored again. The two of them listened to the boiling on the pitch for a while, and they both liked Jiu Ye's goal.

The corners of Gattuso's mouth were bleeding, and Zhuo Yang wanted to wipe him, touching the pocket of the team's down cotton jacket that he was wrapped in, and there was nothing inside. Zhuo Yang walked up to the eighth master and sat down next to him against the wall just like him.

"Eighth Master, are you okay?"

Gattuso hung his head, then raised his head again and laughed, his laughter was full of desolation and pain, and he burst into tears.

Zhuo Yang ignored him, leaned against the wall and let Gattuso laugh and cry. At this moment, he didn't have the slightest intention of laughing at Gattuso, he didn't feel ridiculous at all, only a faint sadness lingering in his heart. It is not only to grieve for Gattuso, but also to grieve for the stubbornness of men and the difficulty of life.

Gattuso wiped away his tears, and sitting on the ground he was no longer a lion, but just a small man who had stripped all his halo. He rubbed the blood from the corner of his mouth with his hand, looked at it, rolled up his cuffs and wiped the blood clean.

The eighth master spoke, his voice was like a temple bell faintly coming from the fog in the early morning of the water town, and his snort was thick and the sound of the urn was very ethereal.

"I don't know boxing at all, not at all."

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