Steampunk novel - "The Bout"

R. Baxter knew the punch was coming before his opponent even thought about throwing it; there was something in his eyes that gave it away.  R. Baxter stuck his chin out subtly, luring the brawler to swing.  The muscles in his opponent’s shoulder twitched, his torso rotated slightly on his hips and his fist began its ascent to the exposed target.  As if moving at two times faster than that of his opponent, R. Baxter stepped to his left, letting the brawler’s fist soar over his right shoulder and delivered a flurry of savage left hooks to the brawler’s ribs before circling away to his left.  R. Baxter knew his opponent was in bad shape; he had felt the bones crack against his knuckles and the brawler’s side had already begun to turn reddish purple.  The brawler turned to face R. Baxter, visibly frustrated by the older gentleman’s speed and precision.  As the brawler edged towards R. Baxter, he lowered his right arm to guard his damaged ribs.  He threw out a lazy jab only to have R. Baxter slap it away effortlessly.  The brawler stepped in and unleashed a massive, sweeping left cross.  R. Baxter ducked under the haymaker and delivered a devastating overhand right to the brawler’s temple, staggering him.  R. Baxter decided that he was done with his opponent and swarmed him, throwing several punishing body shots before felling the brawler with a cataclysmic uppercut.  As the brawler lay motionless on the dirty floor, R. Baxter look out at the writhing mob of onlookers and nonchalantly combed the corners of his mustache with his bloody knuckle.