MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

As always, Damon observed the patterns unfolding before him.

It was almost instinctive now, the way he could read opponents, predict their moves not just from their body language but from the situation they found themselves in.

Fighters, especially those who prided themselves on being well-rounded, often had a tell, a shift in focus when they realized they were being outclassed in one area.

And when that happened, they tended to fall back on the area they felt most comfortable in, the one they believed gave them the edge.

It wasn't unique to Ciao Doralhi.

It was a pattern Damon had seen time and time again, especially in fighters who were confident in their grappling.

When they couldn't gain traction in the striking exchanges, they instinctively gravitated toward the ground game, hoping their expertise would level the playing field.

Damon could almost feel it now, the subtle change in Ciao's rhythm, the way his movements began to hint at a shift in approach.

This wasn't a criticism of Ciao; it was just the nature of the fight game.

When you were being systematically broken down in one field, survival instincts kicked in.

You retreated to what you knew best, what you trusted most.

And that was exactly what was about to happen here with Ciao Doralhi.

Ciao didn't shoot for the takedown.

It was impossible. Damon's relentless pace, his precision, and the sheer variety in his striking made any attempt at level-changing a dangerous gamble.

It was as if Damon had no limit to his gas tank, each movement sharper, each strike heavier than the last.

The crowd roared with each exchange, sensing the shift in momentum.

Damon pushed forward, forcing Ciao onto the back foot, leaving him with little room to maneuver.

Ciao felt his heels nearing the cage, and the realization hit him hard.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

He couldn't let himself get cornered, not against someone like Damon.

If he was pinned, the fight was as good as over.

So instead of a takedown, Ciao lunged forward, arms reaching out to engage in a clinch, hoping to stifle Damon's relentless attack.

The second Ciao's arms closed in, Damon's lips curved into a faint smirk.

He wasn't exactly a talker during fights, he preferred to let his actions speak louder than his words.

But this moment, this choice by Ciao, felt too perfect to ignore.

"Big mistake," Damon muttered, his voice calm yet charged with intent.

Ciao barely had time to register the words before Damon's knees and elbows began their assault.

Damon made sure the clinch was locked in tight, his grip firm and unyielding.

He delivered a series of sharp knees to Ciao's ribs, each strike sending a ripple through the crowd as they watched the brutal efficiency of his attack.

He had ended fights like this before, wearing his opponent down with calculated, punishing strikes.

He could end it here if he wanted to.

With just repeated knees and elbows.

But Damon had something different in mind.

Instead of continuing the barrage of knees, he adjusted his positioning.

His hands shifted, one wrapping around the back of Ciao's head while the other snaked under his chin.

The movement was fluid, deliberate.

Damon's control over the clinch didn't waver for a moment as he transitioned into a standing choke.

A split second later, the crowd realized what was going to happen, and there was a murmur of excitement throughout the building.

Damon pushed Ciao toward the cage, cutting off any chance of escape.

With his back pinned, Ciao had nowhere to go.

Damon tightened his grip, locking his arms in a way that mirrored James Jonas's iconic standing guillotine choke.

Find exclusive stories on empire

Ciao struggled, his hands instinctively clawing at Damon's arms, but the positioning was perfect.

Damon's height advantage and leverage made escape almost impossible.

The commentators were on their feet.

"Damon Cross is going for a standing choke!" Jim Logan exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. "Look at the precision, the control, he's got Ciao completely pinned against the cage!"

James Nix added, "This is next-level grappling from Damon. He's not just a striker, folks, this is pure domination. Ciao has nowhere to go!"

Ciao's movements grew more frantic as Damon tightened the choke, his arms flexing with controlled power.

Each second felt like an eternity as the referee stepped closer, watching intently for a sign that Ciao could no longer defend himself.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a crescendo of excitement as they sensed the fight nearing its end.

Damon kept his focus, his breathing calm and measured, even as his opponent's struggles began to weaken.

This was the moment he had been building toward, a finish that showcased not just his striking, but his ability to dominate in every facet of the fight game.

Ciao's frantic movements began to slow, his arms weakening as the oxygen supply to his brain was methodically cut off.

His legs wobbled, his resistance fading with every passing second.

Damon held firm, his focus razor-sharp as he adjusted his grip slightly to maintain maximum pressure.

Then it happened, Ciao's body went limp.

His arms dropped to his sides, and his knees buckled slightly, but Damon held him upright, the choke still locked in.

"He's out!" Jim Logan shouted. "Ciao Doralhi is unconscious on his feet! This fight is over!"

The referee, Hank Binn, rushed in immediately, stepping between the fighters and signaling the end of the match. "That's it! That's it!"

Damon released the choke instantly, his arms loosening as he let Ciao slump forward.

The Brazilian fighter collapsed like a lifeless weight, crumpling to the canvas in an unceremonious heap.

The crowd erupted, a mixture of awe and chaos filling the arena.

James Nix's voice cut through the noise. "Unbelievable! Damon Cross just choked Ciao Doralhi unconscious while standing!!"

Jim Logan added, "And look at the composure, This kid is a machine! That was clinical. Absolutely clinical."

Damon took a step back, his chest heaving slightly as he steadied his breath.

He glanced down at his opponent briefly, ensuring Ciao was being attended to by the medical team, before raising his hands slightly.

The victory was his, and he had made it look effortless.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM