Love Addict's RPG Ch. 48

Oliver and his opponent stared each other down the moment the fight began, neither moving so much as an inch. Their eyes were locked, waiting for the first twitch of betrayal. One of them would have to move first, and Oliver knew this was just as big a part of the battle as the fight itself. This wasn't a professional showdown, and they weren't on a timer. They could take their sweet time and play mind games for as long as they wished.

Akira cut through the tension, taking a single step forward with his black karate shoes. His stride was deceptively long. He could easily clear the distance in only a few steps if he wanted to, but the fact that he didn't was a statement. He was inviting his foe to make the effort himself.

Oliver wasn't so foolish as to rush in blindly. Akira practiced karate, and his range was longer than Oliver's thanks to his style's propensity for dramatic kicks. If Oliver risked setting himself up for a kick to the face if he didn't approach carefully.

Or did he? He didn't think to do so then, but Oliver wished he'd watched one or two of RamenFist's fight videos before sending a challenge. Akira's capabilities were a complete mystery, and playing the long game was starting to wear on Oliver's patience, making him nervous.

He decided on a compromise.

Oliver stepped in just close enough to tempt Akira into making an attack. The enemy's right leg rose in a sudden arc, cracking like a whip. Oliver backstepped immediately, but his new insight made it worth the risk. He knew he would have to work his way in and stay there so that Akira couldn't utilize his big striking techniques like that kick.

Infighting it was, then.

Oliver kept up his turtle guard, relying on his speed to get within punching distance. Akira's surprised face implied he was faster than the martial artist initially gave him credit for. Akira threw a sudden left-handed chop to Oliver's side to deter his approach.

Hyper Reflexes kicked in, alerting Oliver to incoming danger. His boxing skills gave him greater control over his body, but taking the knowledge his reflexes gave him and acting on them proved mentally straining. It felt like he was splitting his attention in half between trying to get out of the way and keeping an eye out for openings.

He evaded just in time, ducking under the shop and countering with a body blow from his right fist. The punch landed with a resounding flat thud. Oliver's first attack sank into the larger man's side, doing almost no damage and confirming his worst fear. He wouldn't win this or any other match with his brute strength anytime soon. Worse, this position left him open for an incoming elbow strike.

Oliver pulled off another dodge at the last possible second. Akira's elbow whizzed in front of his face, missing him completely. Though Physical Conditioning would lessen any damage, Oliver wasn't enthusiastic about getting hit by one of those. That said, he didn't back off. He kept up the assault, landing a series of hooks to his opponent's face.

Knocking him out would take a lot, but the damage wasn't as minimal as it was when hitting his side. Akira had a lot of padding in his upper body, so it was either the face or activate Weakness Exploit - Pain to see what else he had to work with. Oliver was saving that skill for later on in the fight after he'd had more practice with the basics, however, so he tried not to worry about doing damage and allow himself to get sucked into the battle's rhythm.

A lengthy exchange followed.

Akira was more graceful than his weight would have you believe, and on more than one occasion, he was able to slip out of Oliver's range with retreating swipes, chops, and kicks. It took everything Oliver had to react in time to each one, but his streak at avoiding Akira's attacks continued unchallenged until a sudden palm thrust to his chest was dished out just a little too fast for him to maneuver away from.

A dull thud resounded against his sternum. Akira wasn't so weak that the damage was fully mitigated by Oliver's Physical Conditioning. He felt the blow. Relatively hard, at that. If it weren't for Hyper Reflexes shocking him with news of another incoming attack, he might've been left staggered. Instead, he pulled out an emergency backward step and got out of there before it was too late.

So this is what it's like to get hit, huh? Damn, that hurts. Still, it's not like I couldn't soak up more of these if I really had to... anything to get closer to Mia.

Akira tried to follow after him, but there wasn't much the big man could do when Oliver focused purely on evasion. Oliver was faster, and even now, only a few minutes into the fight, the stamina difference between them was starting to become apparent. Akira was already sweating pretty hard and had to pace himself before he became overwhelmed.

Meanwhile, Oliver had plenty of energy to spare. If he felt up to stalling Akira out, winning was all but a certainty. He wasn't in a hurry for an easy win, however. Oliver wanted to get as much battle experience from the karate practitioner as he could before it came to that.

Both fighters sunk even deeper into the rhythm of combat. Oliver was dancing with his foe- circling and strafing. Akira's skillful attacks came swift as a razor, but Oliver acclimated to his new reflexes more with every movement, returning each failed go at him with some cursory jabs. The punches were adding up over time, and if he kept it up, he might win via death by a thousand cuts.

He's getting slower, Oliver noticed. He's trying not to show it, but his attacks are more sluggish than initially- easier to dodge. I don't think I can get much more out of him, so maybe it's time to try out my secret weapon...

Oliver retreated, the wind from a fist aimed at his face falling against him. Akira was eager to regain some stamina. He didn't immediately follow after, taking a defensive stance and waiting for Oliver's next move.

This gave Oliver ample time to study what he saw from Weakness Exploit - Pain. His eyes glimmered in the dim alley, icons appearing all over Akira's body. Most weaknesses were spots you'd expect to see on anyone. The chin, the eyes, the throat, the testicles, and so on. The rest were unique to Akira.

A spot on his lower left leg stood out as promising, but it was useless to a boxer. Oliver could try to duck and slam it, but nothing would stop Akira from performing a downward chop on his head. His right forearm also had a medium-sized crosshair, possibly having gotten hurt in one of his previous matches. That one might be worth going for, but Oliver didn't think it would do enough damage to end the match.

The crosshair on his left shoulder, though? That seemed like his best bet by far. Unlike all the others, this icon was red and so big it reminded Oliver of the glass cups from last night.

All right, Oliver locked his eyes on the shoulder, clenching his gloved fists. Time to wrap this up.

Before he did, Oliver closed in and started continually circling to Akira's left. He wanted to see how noticeable this would've been if he only knew what to look for. Sure enough, baiting a couple of attacks from Akira's left-hand side clued Oliver into how weak the shoulder was. Every move was noticeably slower than one made with his right, and he even winced a few times after overextending a punch or an elbow strike.

Akira quickly caught on to Oliver knowing his greatest weakness, and the two briefly locked eyes. At first, Oliver still felt a shred of guilt over what he was about to do. That cleared up when he saw the conviction on Akira's face. Though he didn't put it into words, his expression communicated all he needed to say. This was a fight between men, and Oliver should treat it as such.

He waited for his chance, twisted his body, and landed a right straight on the weak spot.

Akira didn't fall over immediately, but the damage wasn't negligible. He was staggered in place, his eyes momentarily bulging from pain. Even so, he wasn't giving up. He recovered before Oliver could land a follow-up, diverting the blow with a chop to his forearm.

The slight pain didn't stop Oliver, who delivered a furious left uppercut in response hard enough to Akira's chin for it to freeze him yet again. This opportunity would only last for a second or two at most, so he pushed himself to capitalize on it as hard as he could.

Blow after blow, the impact of Oliver's gloves on Akira's shoulder started echoing into the empty lot. His teeth ground into his mouthguard, his body summoning up every ounce of power it had to take home this win. One, two, three, four- Akira cried out and buckled to his knees, Oliver pausing right before the fifth had made contact.

"I yield!" Akira quivered, cradling and rubbing at the damage. "You win."

Both of their cell phones played the same sound of a bell ringing three times, signifying the completion of the match. Bradley cheered from the sidelines as soon as it was over. Upon Oliver's victory, the money was transferred into his account.

"Excellent WORK, [Champ]!" Bradley came up from behind Oliver and handed him a water bottle, seemingly out of nowhere. "Tell ME, how do you FIND the [Sweet Taste of Victory]?"

Oliver took the water bottle and then looked at Akira. The match felt intense as it was happening, but now that it was over, he had a different perspective. He'd outclassed his opponent in everything but strength. He was faster, had better reflexes, absorbed damage better, and had everything else he needed to come out on top.

It wasn't that winning didn't feel nice. It certainly did. Oliver had never won a fight before, and a red surge of masculine pride flowed through his veins as a result. Still, part of him wished he was strong enough to have finished this without relying on what he had done.

"Can't say it isn't a little amazing," Oliver admitted. "But-"

Akira pulled himself up off the ground. "Hey," he interrupted. "Don't go making excuses for yourself. I would've done the same in your shoes. A real warrior takes advantage of any weaknesses he sees in his opponent, you got that? You beat me fair and square, so I'm gonna be pissed if you don't take that lesson to heart."

His headband fluttered in the wind, his eyes made of fire. Oliver couldn't look away from the intense inferno. Something other than masculine pride was suddenly coursing through him- respect. Akira was right. He'd stepped into the ring of his own volition and was ready for anything to happen. There were no hard feelings.

Oliver extended the water bottle towards his defeated foe, offering a small smile along with it. "Consider it taken."

"...Good," it took a few seconds, but Akira smiled back and accepted the water bottle. He eagerly drank from it, guzzling over half its contents in one gulp. That was fine. Oliver didn't even break a sweat because of Physical Conditioning Lv. 2, so Akira needed more hydration than he did.

He let out a satisfied sigh and handed the rest back to Oliver, who tilted his head back and tipped it over to finish the rest. Bradley stepped between them, placing one hand on Akira's noninjured shoulder and one on Oliver's.

"You've NOW both partaken of the SAME drink! [The Oath of Sworn Brotherhood] has BEEN completed!" He announced with pleasure.

Akira gave Oliver a look asking if this dude was for real only for a small laugh to escape him when Oliver shrugged.

"Not sure that's how it works. You're supposed to make that kind of oath with sake, and it just so happens I'm fresh out. Got plenty of ramen, though," Akira pointed towards the food cart that had been partially blocking off the alleyway. "What some lunch? On the house, of course. I haven't had that big of an ass-kicking in a while, so I'd say you've earned it."

Oliver was shocked by his fallen foe's generosity. "Seriously? That'd be great. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't. Just give me a second to get changed." Akira pointed at a duffel bag nearby where he kept his clothes.

"Fantastic!" Bradley's eyes were filled with stars. "This is a PRIME opportunity for [Male Bonding]!"

Oliver laughed awkwardly, apologizing for his friend's weirdness as he led Bradley out of the alley and gave Akira his requested privacy. A minute later, he came out wearing casual clothes and an apron, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Akira then put his cart, which Oliver now noticed was titled 'Ramenryu', back on the sidewalk and got to work making them both a bowl of tonkotsu ramen. It was an excellent little cart, like something you'd see on the streets of Tokyo, and the smell of boiling ramen was phenomenal. It was a bit at odds with the aroma of the coffee shop the cart was parked in front of, but phenomenal nonetheless.

They talked while Akira cooked, and it turned out he was a lot less serious when he wasn't wearing his karate gi.

"Used to be something of a hotshot in karate tournaments way back when," Akira laughed. "Did all kinds of stupid training in the name of getting stronger. I'm not sure how far you're looking to take this, but don't overdo it, yeah? You'll fuck something up sooner or later and end up with an injury like this of your own." He crooked his neck towards his shoulder.

"How'd it happen?" Oliver asked.

"It's stupid," another laugh. "I had a bunch of weights strapped to my leg and I was hanging off a pull-up bar, right?"

"Oh, God, I really don't know if I want to hear the rest of this..." Oliver shrank. It sounded like something a kid would do after watching too much anime.

"Ha! Yeah, seriously. It's probably a lot worse than you think. It only took a single dumb idea to ruin my entire life. I thought, 'Hey, I bet I could probably do a few pull-ups one-handed like this, right?'"

"THAT is [Horrifying]!" Bradley announced, sounding enthralled. "Do go ON!"

Oliver was in utter disbelief. "And you still fight with an injury like that? Why?"

Akira was just pouring them their bowls when he shrugged his shoulders. "I already told you, didn't I? It's fun."

"Man," Oliver exhaled. "I bet your physical therapist just loves that excuse."

"Oh, she's not thrilled about it," Akira smiled like a kid caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar. "But I like to think we've all got little addictions we just can't quit."

Oliver's mind drifted towards his own, smiling at the thought. "Yeah, maybe..."

"Enough about me. This girl you're fighting for must be real special if you're willing to go this far for her. Want to catch me up on the story so far?"

"Why not? As soon as I'm done eating-"

Bradley loudly slurped his entire bowl of boiling hot ramen down in one gulp, no chopsticks required. He slammed the empty container on the counter before him, then fixed his bowtie until it was as immaculate as ever. "Allow ME to handle [Exposition Duty] while you consume your [Exotic Meal], my FRIEND!"

Bradley gave a Bradlified account of Oliver's situation, which meant it was over-dramatized and made to sound even more over the top than it already was. By the time he was done spewing his insanity, Akira had been thoroughly won over to Oliver's cause and promised to give him a discount if he ever brought Mia to Ramenryu.

Oliver was down with that. The food here was excellent, and he was willing to bet Mia would agree. Because his cart frequently changed locations, Akira gave Oliver his contact information before they left. He wasn't expecting to gain a new rival-turned-friend so fast into his sudden genre-shifted life, but Oliver supposed he didn't always need Lucky Bastard for nice things to happen to him.

Bradley was overjoyed at the additional male friend Oliver had gained. He claimed that bros were worth their weight in gold, and by that logic, Akira was worth a lot. In his brief time knowing the guy, Oliver was not inclined to disagree.

Following Akira's advice, Oliver jogged the ramen off for a while before finding more matches on Brawln. Entering a battle with a full stomach would only be asking for trouble. Once it had settled and he was ready to go, they found a bench and sorted through more fighter profiles.

Oliver kept hoping they would find a boxer, but no one who fit the bill cropped up. It seemed like Gottlieb might've been onto something when he told him his boxing skills wouldn't take him far in the rankings. A couple of fighters had boxing experience listed in their profiles but fought primarily using other styles.

He was having trouble picking, part of him still wishing he could be at work flirting with Mia right about now instead of preparing for illegal street fights. God, he wanted to be so obnoxious with her. It was finally his turn to be a normie, and her brothers just had to show up and rope him this wacky scenario, didn't they?

Thinking of Mia fired Oliver up enough to pick someone already, so he ended up biting the bullet and choosing an East European wrestler who went by the username 'Warfare Bear'.

A big, bulky strongman might've seemed like an odd matchup on paper, but Bradley provided a reasonably convincing argument as to why it was a good idea. It helped that the man had seven wins to fifteen losses, but it was more so that a wrestler would push Oliver's limits on what he was most worried about- his evasive skills and agility.

If Warfare Bear managed to get ahold of him even a single time, it was pretty much guaranteed that the match would be finished. It was a gamble, one that would light a fire under his ass, and Oliver decided to go for it since, thus far, it'd been proven that he worked well under such conditions.

Warfare Bear agreed to the match request, and funnily enough, they were headed back to Evrart Park for this one. That was something of a relief. Oliver was worried about what it would've been like if he'd fought a wrestler in an abandoned parking lot or something where he could've easily been suplexed into the concrete.

The thought alone was almost enough to make him stop at Bulk Up Fitness again to pick up a helmet or at least some elbow and knee pads.

When he finally met up with Warfare Bear, there wasn't much in the way of pregame chat. The wrestler was ready and waiting to do his thing, and Oliver was prepared to give him what he wanted. They bet seventy-five dollars on the battle, cleared it with Brawln, and then the bell rung.

The battlefield was a secluded area between the park's outer walls and the fenced-in dog park. The ground below was nothing but soft grass, meaning Oliver didn't have to worry about suffering head trauma as he started dodging and evading every attempted grab. Unlike his first fight, Oliver activated Weakness Exploit - Pain from the get-go and studied his opponent closely. Aside from the standard weaknesses, there was a soft spot on his right hand ribcage which Oliver focused his attentions on.

His second fight of the day was much more challenging than his round bout with Akira. The wrestler wasn't about to just let him come close, hit him where it hurt, and retreat without making him work his ass for it. Warfare Bear was doggedly persistent- reaching out for Oliver's shirt and even his hair whenever possible. He pushed Oliver's Hyper Reflexes to their absolute limits, and while he didn't land any of his grapples, he still scored several big hits on Oliver that put him in tricky situations.

Oliver had never known a pain comparable to getting nailed with a gut punch from a trained wrestler. It ripped the air out of his lungs, Physical Conditioning Lv. 2 being all that kept him from getting grappled in the immediate aftermath. Warfare Bear wasn't happy about being given the runaround- his anger starting to boil over as Oliver dragged the match out.

Even constantly hitting his weak point wasn't enough to bring the grappler down- his defenses were just too substantial for Oliver's current punching power to pierce through. Oliver triumphed in the end for no other reason than his supernaturally enhanced stamina was heaps better than Warfare Bear's. Oliver didn't tire out as he continued slipping in and out of Bear's range while taking potshots. Meanwhile, Bear was overexerting himself out of frustration, acting more like an enraged bull than his namesake.

The big man was burning through his stamina just trying to pin Oliver or put him in a hold at any cost until finally, forty-five minutes into the battle when Oliver had slipped in yet again and hit his weak spot with a left hook before zipping away, Warfare Bear decided he'd had enough. He raised his hands and voluntarily fell back on his ass, exclaiming that he had given up and that this wasn't worth it.

Oliver's second fight ended in his favor, netting him more cash and a deep feeling of accomplishment. It wasn't a glamorous victory, but then again, neither was his first. He'd promised Akira not to let that kind of thing bother him, so Oliver focused on his positive feelings while discarding the rest.

Though not as good a sport as Akira, Warfare Bear was cordial enough in defeat after he'd had a minute to cool off. It helped that Bradley provided water again, which the wrestler desperately chugged before crumpling the bottle and throwing it on the grass below. Politely offended, Bradley took the bottle to the nearest recycling bin, leaving Oliver alone with his foe for a few moments as they decompressed while sitting together on the grass.

"You're gonna be fucking dangerous when you learn to hit harder than an old lady," the strongman laughed uproariously, slapping Oliver on the back with all of his strength.

Despite the stinging pain, Oliver shot back some playful banter of his own. "So will you when you learn how to work past that temper of yours."

Warfare Bear looked at him like Oliver had just insulted his mother, staring for an uncomfortably long time, only to crack a smile lacking a few of its teeth when Oliver somehow managed to keep a stony face. "Almost had you there!" He guffawed.

"Yeah, in more ways than one," Oliver laughed back, and he'd meant what he'd said. The battle had been fought on a razor's edge. Things would've played out differently if Oliver had made so much as a single slip-up, and the fact that he hadn't gave him much confidence. It wasn't as big of a boost as getting a girlfriend was, but beating a wrestler in a mixed martial arts street fight was pretty damn close.

Warfare Bear cursed when checking his phone, discovering it was later than he thought. He formally introduced himself as Branko, then left to go home and clean himself up before picking his kids up from school. Oliver didn't quite get the sense that he'd made a friend like he had with Akira, but it was still a positive interaction that had been missing from his life until very recently and which left him feeling fulfilled. Branko had him promise a rematch sometime in the future, and Oliver teased that he was all too happy to take more money from him whenever he had more to give.

Bradley returned right as the wrestler was departing and was unhappy about it. "Darn it ALL! I've gone and MISSED all the [Male Bonding]!"

Oliver laughed, laying back down on the grass. "There wasn't that much to miss this time around. He was nice enough, but we're not suddenly best buds. If you're so upset about it, though, come chill with me for a few. I think I've got one more fight in me for today, but I'd like a quick rest first."

"There's NOTHING more I would RATHER do!" Bradley parked it and sat beside his friend, his mood instantly recovered. "So! That's [Lucky Number Two] down and OUT. How are YOU [Holding Up]?"

"Not bad," Oliver admitted. "I wasn't sure after Akira, but the last match has me thinking that fighting can be pretty fun sometimes. Might dip my toes into Brawln more than I thought? Still not looking to make a career out of it, it's more like..."

"You're suddenly REMEMBERING there's MORE to life than [Dating Sims] and [Romanceable Women]?"

"Pretty good way to put it, yeah," Oliver laughed, unashamed. "I came into this looking to get some experience and cash, but there's definitely some emotional fulfillment going on, too. It's like my years as an incel rewired me into thinking having a girlfriend was the biggest thing wrong with me and that women were the cause of my suffering, when way back when all I ever really wanted was to have friends."

Bradley was quiet for a moment, allowing Oliver to gaze at the sky and stew on his words. When he finally spoke, it was in a gentle tone that almost had a heartfelt quality to it marred only by the artificiality of his voice. "That's how they get you."

"...Yeah. It's sad, but true. All those pickup artists and grifters I used to watch back then always snuck in rhetoric that made me feel like I was being spoken to directly. It made me feel like someone was taking my problems seriously and like I was being heard. Looking back, that kind of shit was almost like a drug. It felt really good at the moment to have someone to look up to who'd tell me it wasn't my fault, but the more of that I subjected myself to, the more it poisoned my brain. It makes me wonder if I would've fallen so far if I had someone who cared enough about me to actually listen as opposed to some toxic douchebag on the internet."

"Well," Bradley spoke. "The [Good News] is THAT you're in a position for THAT to never HAPPEN again. You've got [Tutorial Girl Mia Rosas] and PLENTY of other [Heroines] lined up FOR the foreseeable FUTURE!"

"And I've got you," Oliver gave his friend a pointed smile, ignoring the notion of further heroines as best he could. "You're important to me, too, you know. No matter how fucking weird you might be."

Bradley was in high spirits over this declaration of friendship and eagerly urged Oliver onwards. "The [Feeling] is MUTUAL! Now that you've HAD a quiet [Moment of Self Reflection], are you READY to pick out your THIRD and FINAL foe for today?"

"Yeah, I think I am," Oliver opened up Brawln and started sorting through his available opponents, now finding a whopping fifty ready and waiting for him to reach out as soon as he'd decided on one.

He wanted at least one match against a boxer before packing it in for the day, and unfortunately, he found one.

You've got to be fucking kidding me, he thought, staring at the profile in disbelief. Suffice to say that Oliver wasn't planning on sticking around for long enough after the match to become friendly rivals with '卐StraightOutOfMeinKampfton卐'.

Oliver almost wasn't even sure he wanted to risk his money ending up in the hands of a skinhead punk, but there were a couple of things urging him to send a challenge. The first was that the guy was younger and even scrawnier than Oliver, probably around nineteen or twenty, and the second was his win rate of three to six. Oliver had a high chance of victory, and he felt pretty confident he might be able to earn his first knockout if he was up against someone his own size.

The temptation was too much. Oliver sent out a challenge, which was shortly accepted, then set out to take this bastard down a million pegs.

They met up in an empty parking lot behind an abandoned dive bar. Things were off to a great start when Oliver made first contact, the skinhead covered in Aryan Brotherhood tattoos making fun of him for his 'faggy' username and calling out Bradley for looking like 'the gayest butler' he'd ever seen.

Yeah, so much for the day's running theme of positive masculinity. On the other hand, it had to be acknowledged that this kid was probably in a very similar situation to the one Oliver had just reflected on finding himself in once upon a time. He probably needed someone to set him straight and be a positive influence, and Oliver sincerely hoped he’d find that special role model from the bottom of his heart, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him.

Oliver was here to kick ass and develop his relationship with Mia, not take up a career as an overly pushy and annoying youth pastor. He bet the kid a hundred and ended the day's training montage with a session of unrestrained brutality.

The third match was one hundred percent Oliver punching down.

Oliver overwhelmed the wannabe Nazi with his speed and stamina, but most of all, his skills. Boxing Lv. 2 was unsurprisingly most effective when fighting other boxers, giving him greater insight into his opponent's moves than during either of his other matches. Furthermore, he'd guessed correctly about the power of his punches.

Oliver was straight up beating the shit out of the poor guy, a dramatic change from his earlier bouts. This seemed almost like a solid taste of what he had to look forward to once he'd gained more points in his strength stat, and for as easy as it was to get lost in that fantasy, Oliver didn't drag things out for too long.

He finished the third fight as fast as possible because he might've taken things too far if he hadn't. Oliver could safely say as 卐StraightOutOfMeinKampfton卐 fell to the floor unconscious that while hurting other people still wasn't much his jam, it could feel pretty damn great under the right circumstances.

"Okay," Oliver walked away from his latest victim and back toward Bradley. "That'll do me on fights for one day, but I feel like there's more we could do to prepare for tomorrow. Wanna head back to my place and study famous boxing matches with me while I do some curls?"

"Do I EVER!" Bradley purposefully walked over the body of the punk-ass kid, the sole of his shoe grinding into his forehead where a Celtic cross was tattooed front and center, a groan of pain coming from his throat. "Does this MEAN you're still SET on tomorrow, THEN?"

"I am," Oliver confirmed. "Juan's nowhere near as bulky as Branko, and I'd be surprised if he could hit even half as hard. Hopefully, the curls will get me another point of strength before the match, but I'm feeling great about my chances even if they don't."

Satisfied with his work today and the friends he'd made along the way, Oliver jogged home with Bradley. He was convinced that nothing could stop him from unlocking Mia's second heart event and couldn't wait until he was in the ring with Juan.

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