Jai Opetaia sits in the corner of his crowded dressing room, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth for the first time during fight week. 

The mood surrounding him is jubilant as the various family members, staff and hangers on celebrate, cans of beer are cracked and stories exchanged of what they had all just witnessed from their various respective vantage points.

The reason for this joy is lying on the round table in front of Opetaia, the red IBF world title belt lying on display for all to see.

The other reason is lying in the opposition’s dressing room, the beaten David Nyika waiting for an ambulance after suffering the most horrific of knockouts.

Eddie Hearn, the intermediary for boxing’s biggest kingmaker is already looking ahead though.

Boxing waits for no man.

“I believe he’s the only fighter who can give Usyk a real fight over the next 12 to 18 months,” Hearn proclaimed, laying out Opetaia’s immediate future.

“I’m looking down the road, down the road, down the road.

“Jai is humble and he’s committed to the cruiserweight division, but for me, one of the greatest cruiserweights of all time is Oleksandr Usyk who became undisputed, moved up and became undisputed at heavyweight.

“The short-term focus is another belt, ASAP. The medium term focus is every other belt in the division, and the long term focus? Why not? Is to fight Oleksandr Usyk for the unified heavyweight championship.

“Hopefully His Excellency [Turki Alalshikh] will make it happen.”

As this conversation is happening between Hearn and the assembled media, Opetaia continues to sit in the corner in his underwear, greeting well wishers with a smile, contemplating his win in his own way. 

Plans upon plans upon plans, the machinations of boxing’s murky matchmaking process are not his concern.

His concern is only in winning.

“I don’t pick fights,” Opetaia said.

“I’m not the one, I’m just fighting. Whoever they put in front of me, that’s who I’m gunna fight.

“I’m chasing unification fights. But if they put someone else in front of me, I can’t help that.

“If that happens, it happens. You know, obviously we take that fight with both hands.

“But we’re looking for unification fights, otherwise it’s all just fairytale shit.

“You know what I mean? Everyone wants to fight everyone, dropping names and I’ve got respect for every fighter out there, I’m not trying to disrespect fighters. I’m not trying to disrespect Zurdo [WBO and WBO champion Gilberto Ramírez] or say he’s a a bad fighter, I’m just chasing progress. 

“I’m just trying to chase progress. I’m trying to level up. That’s what I’m chasing and and that’s what I want.”

The stunningly brutal contest that a packed Gold Coast Convention and Exhibition Centre had just witnessed will live long in the memory of all those who were there.

Opetaia was made to work extraordinarily hard by David Nyika, who came forward at every opportunity and crowded Opetaia with a reckless regard for the shots he was was going to absorb.

And there was a case to say that, to a point, it was working.

At the end of the second and third rounds Opetaia was clearly rocked by the challenger and had to hang on despite landing the majority of the most dangerous shots.

“I think everyone was just a bit in shock as to how he come out,” Opetais said.

“Even my old man, he said ‘oh youse is in a dog fight,’ he just started swiping on, got me with a decent shot, I come back, that’s good man. 

“You know, we built this fight up. You know, he spoke a lot, he’s talked a lot and I thought he was talking a lot of shit, to be honest. 

“But he come down and showed heart and I have nothing but respect for David Nyika.”

While Opetaia was holding court in his crowded room, just down the corridor there was a far more sombre mood.

Nyika’s room had been cleared of all but the closest members of his team as the 29-year-old took some time following one of the scariest knockouts you could imagine.

An ambulance was already on its way, pulling slowly into the bowels of the Convention and Exhibition Centre as the thoroughly sated crowd drifted to the afterparty at the casino down the road.

This is the unseen price of the entertainment they had born witness to, barely a thought being offered to the other half of the entertainment.

Nyika had proved his chin throughout the fight, advancing and walking onto some punishing blows and taking them, giving back what he could and never taking a backward step.

That must have been the game plan, from the very first bell Nyika charged headlong into Opetaia to join the battle.

In the fourth it unravelled.

The uppercut that floored him for the first time was filled with venom and spite and rocked the 29-year-old to his core.

Bravely, gamely, Nyika got back up.

Opetaia had sensed his moment though. 

A right landed that sent the Kiwi fighter back against the ropes. 

A left followed that knocked him clean out, dangling with his right arm over the rope.

The referee was there but perhaps unsighted as to Nyika’s state. Opetaia was not going to wait.

Another left followed, landing with sickening force onto the prone head of his stricken opponent.

Nyika was down and, for agonising minute after agonising minute, he stayed there.

Seconds stretched to minutes, the concern growing with each tick of the clock as people crowded around the prone figure who just second earlier had been a picture of health and vitality, now just a crumpled husk on the canvas.

This is the converse to the revelry of the victor, the second side side of boxing’s priceless coin, the human price paid by the defeated.

This is the toll demanded by this most primal of sports, brutally exacted by those who have other scores to settle.

“I respect David. You know, I hope he’s alright,” Opetaia said in his rooms.

“He’s a great fighter, man. I don’t think people will give him the credit he deserves because of the way we just fought. 

“He’s a great fighter man and David? Thank you bro, I appreciate it.”