MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon stood across from Ivan in the sparring ring, both wearing full training gear, their gloves raised and eyes locked on each other.

The gym was filled with the sounds of other fighters training, but to Damon, it was just him and Ivan right now.

The Russian had good striking, and his background in sambo was evident in how he moved, balanced, calculated, and always ready to counter.

Damon took a Muay Thai stance, light on his feet, and tested the waters with a low kick aimed at Ivan's lead leg.

The sharp slap of his shin against Ivan's thigh echoed through the gym.

Ivan absorbed the hit, his face unreadable, and stepped back, adjusting his stance slightly. Damon noted the way Ivan moved, strong, deliberate.

Another low kick from Damon. This one landed harder, a thudding connection that made Ivan's leg twitch slightly.

Damon kept his guard high, but he wasn't rushing into any punches just yet.

His focus was on chopping down Ivan's legs, one strike at a time.

The low kicks kept coming, each one a little faster and harder than the last.

Ivan blocked a couple, but each successful strike made him flinch just a bit more.

Damon could see the wear starting to show in Ivan's movements.

His stance shifted, and his balance wavered slightly.

Damon knew this was the opening he needed, but he didn't rush it.

Another low kick followed, then another, each aimed at the same spot.

Damon was relentless, circling around Ivan, making sure the Russian couldn't plant his feet long enough to throw anything solid back.

They reset after a brief exchange, the air in the gym heavy with concentration.

Ivan rubbed his leg subtly, trying to mask the growing pain.

Damon bounced lightly on his toes, his eyes never leaving Ivan's.

As the sparring session restarted, Damon launched another low kick.

He could see Ivan anticipating it now, trying to adjust his guard and maybe counter.

But Damon was quicker, his shin slicing through the air and connecting cleanly with Ivan's leg once again.

Whittier, who had been walking around the gym observing other sparring matches, now stood near the edge of the ring, watching Damon closely.

His arms were folded across his chest, his sharp eyes taking in every movement.

Damon kept firing low kicks, almost rhythmic now. It was clear that his strategy was to weaken Ivan's base, but Whittier frowned slightly.

As much as Damon's kicks were effective, he was taking too long to switch up his approach.

Ivan, though visibly uncomfortable from the repeated attacks on his legs, managed to throw a few jabs back.

They were blocked easily by Damon, but the message was clear, Ivan wasn't going down without a fight.

Damon paused for a moment, considering his next move, but his instinct took him back to what had been working: another low kick.

He launched it hard, but this time Ivan checked it with his shin, absorbing the hit better than before.

Whittier stepped forward, his voice cutting through the sounds of the gym. "Alright, stop. That's enough."

Damon immediately lowered his hands, breathing hard but controlled, while Ivan dropped his guard as well, rolling his shoulders as he shook out the stiffness in his legs.

Whittier stepped into the ring, his expression calm but serious. "Damon, I get it, you've got great kicks. But you've been throwing the same one for too long now. You can't just keep relying on the low kick, even if it's working. You've got to mix it up, or someone like Ivan here", he nodded toward the Russian," is gonna figure you out and counter."

He looked directly at Damon. "You have the tools, use them. Low kicks are good, but don't forget you've got hands too. And knees, and elbows. You're Muay Thai, so be Muay Thai. Don't just chop down the tree,break the whole damn thing apart."

Damon nodded, taking in Whittier's words. He'd gotten too comfortable with the low kicks, too focused on just one approach.

He realized that Ivan had been toughing it out, waiting for his chance to turn the tables.

Whittier then turned to Ivan. "And you, Ivan, your striking's solid, but you're letting him dictate the pace. If you feel him taking over, you've got to push back harder. Don't just wait for the perfect moment, or it might never come."

Ivan nodded, his face serious. "Understood, coach."

Whittier clapped his hands together, signaling the end of the sparring round. "Alright, both of you, take a break. I want you fresh for the next session. We'll work on blending everything together. We're not just focusing on one thing—you need to be well-rounded fighters if you want to win."

Damon and Ivan stepped out of the ring, grabbing their water bottles and towels.

As Damon took a sip, he replayed the sparring session in his mind, already thinking about how to incorporate Whittier's advice into his next round.

He glanced over at Ivan, who was stretching out his legs, the faint marks of Damon's kicks still visible on his thighs. Ivan caught his eye and gave him a nod of respect.

"Good kicks," Ivan muttered, wincing slightly as he moved his leg.

"Thanks," Damon replied with a small grin. "Good blocks, but next time, I'll switch it up."

Ivan chuckled. "Next time, I won't let you kick so much."

They both knew the next round would be different, and they both welcomed the challenge.

It had been a few days since Damon's meeting with the CEO, and ever since he returned to the house, he had kept to himself.

The events of that night were still affecting him, and while most of the fighters went about their daily lives, Damon decided to avoid any interactions that were not necessary.

Even his old friend Kevin hadn't gotten much out of him. Damon kept his distance from the opposite team, avoiding potential conflicts.

The tension from his last fight was still there, and he wasn't eager to stir things up again.

But not everything was cold and distant. Ivan, Damon's roommate, was the fighter he had suddenly bonded with.

There was something about Ivan's straightforwardness that Damon respected.

The Russian fighter was genuine and honest, never sugarcoating things, and never involving himself in unnecessary drama.

In the few quiet moments they shared, whether after training or just winding down in the room, Damon found himself talking to Ivan about fights, life, and their goals.

Though Ivan was a man of few words, what he did say always carried weight.

They shared a common understanding, focus on the fight, and let everything else fall to the wayside.

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