MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon was ready to unleash a final barrage of powerful punches, committing his entire body into the strikes.

He could feel the adrenaline pumping.

This was it, the moment to end the fight. He had Logan right where he wanted him.

But just as Damon was about to throw his first punch, the sharp, shrill sound of the bell echoed through the cage.

BEEHHHH!!

The round was over.

Hank Binn immediately stepped between them, his hands raised as he called out, "Stop! Stop!"

Damon froze mid-motion, his fist hovering in the air. His breath came out in heavy bursts, his heart still racing from the intensity of the fight.

He stepped back slowly, his eyes locked on Logan, who looked like he had just been granted a brief moment of mercy.

Logan leaned against the cage, his chest heaving, his face battered and bruised but still standing. The referee's intervention had saved him, for now.

Damon shook his head, taking a deep breath, knowing he had to stay composed.

He had been so close, but the round was over, and he would need to reset for the next.

Damon walked back to his corner, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

For the first time in his career, he had a team backing him up, people in his corner who believed in him, and it felt different.

As he sat down on the stool, Whittier and the other coaches immediately surrounded him.

One coach handed him water, while another poured some over his head, cooling him down from the intense heat of the fight.

Whittier crouched beside him, calm but firm. "You're doing great, Damon. That aggression at the end? Beautiful. But listen, don't get reckless. You're landing hard, but you need to keep that distance again, okay?

Logan's going to try to shoot on you if you get too close."

Another coach chimed in, patting Damon's shoulder. "Those leg kicks were perfect, man. You had him limping, but don't just rely on them. Mix it up with body shots and knees. Use that Muay Thai, you've got the reach, so make him pay for every step he takes toward you."

Whittier added, "He's slowing down, but you can't let up. Keep controlling the distance. That's your fight, Damon. You control the distance, you control the fight. Logan's tough, but he's getting frustrated. Don't give him any momentum."

Damon nodded, absorbing their words as he gulped down water.

His chest heaved with each breath, but he was laser-focused.

The encouragement and advice settled his mind, and he knew what he had to do next.

On the other side of the cage, Logan sat on his stool, breathing heavily, his face red from the strikes he'd endured.

Belam Chemasov crouched beside him, his thick accent cutting through the noise in the arena.

"You are too wild, brother," Belam growled, his voice low and intense. "I tell you, control, control. You rush too much. You want to fight him on ground, yes? Then be smart. Don't just charge in like bull.

Set it up!"

He slapped Logan's thigh, emphasizing his point. "You have wrestling, yes, but you no get close if you keep walking into punches. You need to move head! Slip! Then shoot! Wear him down.

He's tired too, don't forget."

Logan's striking coach leaned in, wiping sweat from his brow. "Your striking's good, but you're getting caught. Fake the overhand and go for the body, then get in for the takedown. Chemasov's right—you need to time it better."

Belam grabbed Logan by the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "You show him what wrestler can do. Take him down. Break him. This fight is yours if you control it. You let him hit you like that again, I will hit you after the fight!"

Logan nodded, breathing heavy but more focused.

Belam stepped back, watching closely as the seconds ticked down before the next round. "Now go show him. This is war."

The time finished, and both corners stood up, taking out the stools as the coaches left the cage.

Damon and Logan stood, bouncing on their toes, each man's face set in determination.

They both met in the center of the cage, eyes locked, not a word spoken but a thousand unspoken messages exchanged.

BEEEEH!

The sound of the horn signaled the start of Round Two.

Another five minutes on the clock.

Both fighters knew that if they couldn't end it here, the third and final round would be the deciding factor.

But by the look in their eyes, neither fighter wanted to leave the decision in the hands of the judges.

Damon moved first, staying light on his feet, flicking out a jab to test Logan's range.

Logan, however, came in fast, throwing a hard overhand right, aiming to close the distance.

Damon slipped just enough to avoid the punch, firing back a counter left hook that clipped Logan on the chin, sending a small shockwave through the cage.

Logan wasn't backing down.

He lunged forward, attempting another takedown, but Damon sprawled, using his length to keep Logan at bay.

Logan drove forward, his hands clasping around Damon's legs, but Damon dug his feet into the canvas, hopping backward to create space.

Damon pivoted and threw a sharp inside leg kick, followed by a right cross that snapped Logan's head back.

Logan staggered but planted his feet, swinging a wild hook that Damon blocked.

The power in the punch could be felt through Damon's forearms, but he stayed composed, sticking to his game plan.

Damon moved in closer, feinting with his left hand before throwing a knee that just missed Logan's midsection.

The fight was becoming a chess match of violence, both fighters looking for the opportunity to finish.

Logan pressed forward again, determined to get the fight to the ground.

He shot for another takedown, this time with more precision, grabbing Damon's leg and driving him backward into the cage.

Damon's back hit the fence, and Logan managed to get one of Damon's legs up, trying to sweep the other out from under him.

But Damon reacted quickly.

He slammed an elbow into Logan's temple, loosening the grip around his leg.

He followed it with another elbow, this time to the side of Logan's head.

Logan grunted, momentarily dazed, giving Damon the opening to push him off and circle back to the center of the cage.

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