MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon sat upright on the stool, calm as ever. His team gave him a few nods and quick words, but there wasn't much to fix.

He hadn't gone full tilt in that round, not because he was holding back out of arrogance, but because he didn't want to be the man who ended Desayen's career in a single frame. That wasn't respect. That was cruelty.

Desayen had held back too. It was clear in the way he moved. He wasn't playing games, but there was weight to his pace. This fight was personal. Legacy mattered.

The bell rang for round two.

Damon bounced forward like it was the start of a fresh fight. His footwork smooth, his hands relaxed. That new recovery boost from the system? It was doing work. His body felt like he hadn't fought a round yet.

Desayen's stance was slightly lower this time. More grounded. He knew he needed to take control now, or it would spiral away from him.

Damon approached with a feint, jab, step-in hook, then dipped out to the right. Testing. Touching. Finding the timing again.

Rich Alvarez on commentary leaned forward.

"Damon looks fresh. I mean, second round and he's bouncing like it's minute one."

Jon Goodman nodded.

"He's flowing. Comfortable. That's when he's most dangerous."

Damon threw a jab to the body, then instantly stepped in with a lead hook and a straight to the head. The real shot was hidden inside.

A flick to the ribs, so fast it barely looked like anything happened. A short twist of his core and shoulder, no telegraph.

Desayen's body reacted a half-second later. He winced, a small recoil in his right side.

No one in the crowd noticed.

The second combo came soon after. This one a low kick, a jab upstairs, then again, snap, the hidden punch to the body.

Desayen backed up, adjusting his breathing, just slightly off.

Marvin Duke raised an eyebrow from commentary.

"Wait, hold up... did he catch something there? That wasn't a regular body shot."

Jon Goodman narrowed his eyes.

"Look at Desayen's face. He felt something. Damon didn't throw anything big, but that reaction doesn't lie."

Damon flowed into the third combo. This time: step-in elbow, short right, feinted uppercut, then the invisible strike.

It was like a phantom. Lightning to the liver.

Desayen twitched. His guard dropped for a split-second and he exhaled sharply, stepping back with a stunned look. He tried to shake it off, but his feet didn't move right for a moment.

Rich Alvarez leaned in.

"That! There! You see that? That wasn't just clean striking, there's something in there. Damon's hiding shots in those combos and Desayen's body knows it before the eyes can catch it."

Jon Goodman whistled.

"It's like he's sneaking punches into places that shouldn't be open. Fastest hands we've seen tonight."

Marvin Duke added,

"If Desayen doesn't figure it out soon, this could turn into a clinic. Damon's building momentum and hiding a razor inside silk."

Back in the cage, Damon kept flowing.

He looked locked in now. One movement to the next, perfectly in rhythm.

Desayen threw a sharp leg kick, trying to break the rhythm, but Damon checked it and came over the top with a clean right hand.

Then another.

And within it, the fourth invisible shot. A flick to the body, like a whip.

Desayen stumbled back again, breathing heavy. The crowd didn't see what was happening, but they felt it. A shift. A pressure mounting.

Damon didn't chase.

He stayed calm.

Because now he knew, it was working.

Desayen's heel kissed the base of the cage as Damon's push kick landed flush to the sternum. The pressure had shifted hard. Damon wasn't just controlling the pace now, he was actively closing Desayen's space.

Without hesitation, Damon followed up, sliding in with crisp footwork and pumping a quick one-two to test the guard. Desayen retreated along the fence, circling, trying to find a way out. But Damon cut the angle sharp, herding him like a wolf moving prey.

Desayen realized quickly.

This wasn't a pace he could dance around.

This was pressure with purpose.

He threw a check hook, pivoted, and slid off the cage, escaping clean for the moment. But Damon didn't let up.

He dipped low and fired a body shot that had pop, then faked a level change that made Desayen instinctively lower his hands.

That was the trigger.

Damon's body rotated.

His feet planted and turned on a dime.

He spun—

—And cracked Desayen with a brutal spinning elbow across the temple.

The crowd gasped.

Commentary jumped.

Jon Goodman: "Oh my, spinning elbow! That landed clean!"

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Rich Alvarez: "That was sharp! Damon caught him just off the pivot, perfect timing!"

Desayen stumbled after the spinning elbow, still reeling. Damon didn't wait. He surged forward, cutting off Desayen's angle and dipping under with a textbook level change.

He locked his arms around Desayen's waist, going for a double-leg takedown, but the angle was off.

Desayen had twisted slightly as he backed up, and Damon's hands didn't clasp behind the hips where the leverage was clean. Instead, he ended up with a high waist lock, closer to the floating ribs than the hips. His shoulder wasn't low enough, and Desayen's feet were already bracing against the canvas.

The grip was tight, but not anchored.

It meant Damon couldn't lift and drive without risking a failed attempt and a scramble.

He adjusted quickly, switching from a lift to a driving push, trying to off-balance Desayen with pure pressure. But the veteran stayed upright, feet wide, posting hard.

Damon shifted behind him, locking a rear waist cinch, trying to collapse Desayen's base by dragging him backward, but the control wasn't solid. Desayen's elbows flared, prying at the grip, keeping Damon from clasping fully behind the core.

It wasn't a takedown that would hold a seasoned striker down for long.

So Damon made the call.

He released the grip, just for a second. Letting Desayen think he was free.

Desayen straightened up immediately, trying to turn and reset.

And that's when Damon struck.

In one seamless motion, Damon posted off his back leg and ripped a knee into Desayen's torso, right under the ribs, where the liver lives.

Desayen's body jerked forward. His hands went down.

And then he dropped, folding in a seated sprawl, his breathing clipped.

Jon Goodman: "That's a champion's adjustment right there. That grip was too high to finish clean, and instead of forcing it, Damon baited him into a reset and punished him for it."

Marvin Duke: "Letting go of a position just to land that? Cold. Smart. That's the difference at the elite level."

Rich Alvarez: "Desayen's still in this, but that knee, man, that hurt."

Damon hovered over him again. This time, with a plan.

And now, Desayen was grounded, and Damon didn't need a perfect grip anymore.