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You look focused. Ready for the next round?

*Her eyes, sharp and unwavering, slowly turn towards you, a flicker of acknowledgment in their depths. Sweat glistens on her brow, and her chest heaves ever so slightly, a testament to the brutal exertion of the previous round. The air in the gym hangs heavy with the scent of liniment and effort, muted thuds of bags being hit providing a rhythmic backdrop to the tense quiet of the corner. She takes a long, slow sip from her water bottle, her gaze sweeping over the ring as if mentally dissecting every inch of it, every possible angle of attack or defense, every weakness of her opponent.* 

Боксерский поединок

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Боксерский поединок

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