MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

There was no doubt that Damon and Logan were pushing themselves to the edge during training camp for both teams.

Both fighters knew they had limited time to prepare, with The Supreme Fighter's rapid schedule offering little room for error or wasted moments.

Damon, under Whittier's guidance, was starting to blend his Muay Thai with his newly sharpened wrestling defense.

Each day in the gym felt like a battle in itself, and Damon's focus had never been clearer.

Every morning he woke up, the thought of the upcoming fight with Logan sharpened his senses.

Whittier's approach was about refining Damon's already strong skills, making sure he stayed calm, composed, and ready for anything Logan might throw his way.

Damon knew he was getting better every day, but he also understood the time constraints.

Every minute mattered.

The fight was just around the corner, and Damon couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

On the other side, Logan, fueled by Balim's relentless intensity, was transforming into a beast.

The wrestling coach's grueling sessions, paired with Balim's fierce striking drills, were designed to turn Logan into a relentless force inside the octagon.

There was no time to relax, no moment to rest.

Logan's body screamed for a break, but his mind was locked on one thing: smashing Damon.

The stakes were high. This wasn't just about winning the fight; this was about sending a message.

Logan had put immense pressure on himself.

He had talked the talk, taunted Damon, and built up the fight to a level where losing wasn't an option.

He couldn't afford to look weak after all the bravado, especially not in front of his team, his coach, or the millions watching.

Every day, Logan replayed his trash talk in his head, knowing he had to back it up in the octagon.

For Damon, the stakes were just as high, if not higher.

Losing to Logan, someone who had relentlessly gotten under his skin, wasn't just about losing a fight, it would be a blow to his pride.

The tension in the house was palpable.

Whenever the fighters returned from training, the atmosphere would become thick with anticipation and simmering resentment.

Whenever Damon and Logan found themselves in the same room, the trash talk began.

Logan never missed an opportunity to take a jab, whether it was during meals, downtime, or even in passing glances.

"Better hope you don't fold in the first round, Damon," Logan would say with a smirk, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Damon, more controlled, would often just smile back, refusing to let Logan get the satisfaction of a reaction, but the energy in the room would shift immediately.

There was no denying that both men were ready to tear into each other.

The whole house felt like a battlefield waiting for that first punch to land in the octagon.

And it wasn't like Logan was a complete dick, at least not in his own mind.

He knew he had said some wild things when he was drunk, but once the words were out, there was no taking them back. Read exclusive content at m v l em pyr

Instead of apologizing or backing down, Logan decided to ride the wave of his own trash talk.

He figured if he owned it, then it would give him even more confidence going into the fight.

In truth, part of Logan knew he'd crossed a line with Damon, but he wasn't going to show any weakness.

To him, it was all part of the game. If he could get inside Damon's head, throw him off balance before they even stepped into the octagon, then it was worth it.

There was no walking back the insults now. He'd talked big, and now, more than anything, he had to back it up.

Damon didn't back down, and neither did Logan.

Their personalities clashed so hard it was almost impossible for the two to be civil, and Brian wasn't exactly helping.

He backed up his brother, feeding into the hostility.

It had reached the point where the other fighters couldn't help but get sucked into the drama, either taking sides or doing their best to avoid it altogether.

But no matter how hard they tried to distance themselves, the tension in the air was undeniable, thick enough to be felt by everyone in the villa.

Whenever Damon and the brothers entered a room, the energy shifted.

Conversations would stop, and the atmosphere would immediately become heated, everyone bracing themselves for yet another verbal confrontation.

What started as trash talk quickly devolved into a series of insults.

Damon was casually sipping his juice in the kitchen when Kevin walked in, sporting an awkward smile.

"Ayy Damon, you good?" Kevin asked, trying to keep things light even though there was a lot of tension between their teams

Damon gave a short nod and smiled. "Keeping up," he replied, his tone casual but with an edge.

Just as Kevin was about to wish Damon good luck for his fight, Brian strolled into the kitchen.

He glanced at the two of them and let out a mocking chuckle.

"What you two up to, eh? Kissing in the kitchen? A quicky before the big day?" Brian sneered.

Damon didn't even bother turning around.

He took one last sip from his glass, set it down on the table, and with a smirk, shot back, "Should ask you and your brother that. Seem real close. Sharing beds too?"

As he walked past Brian, he made sure to shoulder him lightly, his smirk still in place.

This was the kind of thing that had become routine in the house, a constant back and forth, a spark of drama that never seemed to die down.

But tomorrow, only one would be the winner.

All the trash talk, all the tension, and all the bravado would mean nothing when the cage door closed behind them.

It would be just Damon and Logan, no more words, no more distractions, just the fight.

By tomorrow, one of them would walk out with their hand raised.

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