On July 12, the lightweight division will produce one of the most intriguing and contradictory clashes of styles available at the elite championship level, as Shakur Stevenson and William Zepeda will co-feature Ring III at Louis Armstrong Stadium in New York City.

Stevenson is one of the most defensively gifted and efficient operators in the sport, while Zepeda is one of boxing’s most prodigious volume punchers.

Stevenson has made his ascent to world titles in three divisions look remarkably easy, nullifying his opponents’ offense and peppering them with precise leads and counters to the tune of a sport-best rating of plus-21.1, according to CompuBox. Zepeda’s superpower, meanwhile, is in sheer offensive output, averaging 93.5 punches thrown per round in the 14 fights that have been counted by CompuBox.

This combination of fighters, and importantly, their key attributes is a compelling one for fans, and has been for some time. Defensive wizards such as Stevenson are a joy to watch for boxing purists and fans of theirs generally, rendering otherwise excellent fighters incapable of landing much of anything.

For those who prefer a different style and root against them, they can be frustrating, and by nature of their style, are looking to suppress action rather than push it at all costs. Stevenson has long compared favorably in terms of CompuBox metrics to Floyd Mayweather, and fittingly, has elicited similar polarizing reactions.

As with Mayweather, as Stevenson’s reign has continued, the discussion around hypotheses for who can beat him, but also how to beat him, has ratcheted up. Ultimately, when fighters are hard to hit —let alone beat — the human mind tends to go to the most simplistic solution: What if you just threw more punches at them?

The problem for Stevenson’s opponents hasn’t been the inherent lack of desire to throw more punches. It’s that he either wouldn’t let them or discouraged them to such a degree that they wouldn’t. But not all fighters are made equal in terms of the number of punches they intend to, or even can throw in a given round, and when it comes to today’s fighters no one wants to throw more or can throw more than Zepeda.

That’s precisely why buzz for this fight has built to the point it has. It promises to listen to fans’ stylistic curiosities on both ends. Can the best defensive fighter in the sport slow down a whirlwind attack, or can a never-ending cascade of bullets finally pierce through the forcefield?

There are many who believe that Stevenson will emerge as one of this generation’s very best. He may not sit in The Ring’s formal pound-for-pound Top 10, but he’s in many observers’ personal list, and has been ranked by The Ring in the past. Though he has dealt with hand injuries that have hampered his scheduling, in every other respect Stevenson and his style and skillset lend themselves to longevity and sustained success.

If Zepeda is to be the man to thwart him and be the one to reign atop the lightweight division, it would require him to continue being an outlier. As thrilling as volume-punchers of Zepeda’s caliber are in terms of television viewing, it’s a level of output that isn’t common amongst truly elite fighters, let alone all-time great fighters.

Amongst the fighters who have been counted contemporarily or retroactively by CompuBox, perhaps the two best examples of Hall of Famers who utilized extreme volume to reach the heights they did are Aaron Pryor and Danny “Little Red” Lopez. Pryor averaged 88.6 punches per round in the 12 fights archived by CompuBox, while Lopez threw an otherworldly 104.1 per round over his dozen most meaningful bouts.

Lopez’s metrics illustrate the dangers of ultra-high output from a defensive standpoint. Lopez's opponents landed 44% of their overall punches thrown, 35% of their jabs and 49% of their power shots. Those overall totals and jab totals nearly double what Lopez landed himself (25% overall, 15% jabs), but his work rate, chin and blistering power were enough to overcome his defensive liabilities —or indifference. Pryor, who was a more classically skilled fighter than Lopez but still with an incredible hunger for knockouts and thirst for violence, was able to thwart his opponents’ offense more successfully, absorbing 27% of their punches overall,15% of their jabs, but 35% of their power shots.

It's extremely difficult to be oluminously prodigious and defensively sound, which is the simplest explanation as to why more pedal-to-the-floor pressure fighters don’t exist at the absolute highest levels of the sport. At some point, defensive lapses are costly against other elite fighters.

However, what has made Zepeda even more intriguing than other volume merchants is that relative to his contemporaries, he doesn’t get hit an overwhelming amount. Though it’s important to note that Stevenson will represent the best opponent of his career by a fair margin (and of course, his stats have not been compiled against other Hall of Famers in some cases such as Pryor and Lopez), Zepeda’s opponents have landed 21% overall, 12% of their jabs and 28% of their power shots. For context’s sake, that 21% accuracy against is just outside of the sport’s overall Top 10, where the 10th spot is occupied by Devin Haney at 20.6%.

If one is to look to the numbers for an explanation as to why Zepeda has been able to keep his opponents’ success somewhat in check, there may be an explanation in his jab totals. When you think of volume punchers, you often think of fighters who simply race to the inside and uncork hooks. Zepeda does indeed do that when he gets inside, averaging 55.4 power shots per round, third-most in boxing, however, he also jabs his way in, averaging 38.5 of them per round, second only to maybe the best jabber in the sport in Kenshiro Teraji.

How will all of that play against Stevenson, who absorbs an average of 5.4 punches per round, and only 14% of punches overall? And can Zepeda’s defense — and chin — hold up against a man who lands 46.7% of his power punches?

In musical terms, Zepeda is the drummer, establishing the beats-per-minute, but Stevenson is the bassist, managing the tempo. But which volume will this fistic tune be played at? And will it be one we all nod our heads to as we hope?