MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat - Chapter 826

Chapter 826: Chapter 826: Locked and Loaded

Damon sat still on the stool, his gloves resting on his knees, gaze fixed across the cage.

Victor’s voice came through, sharp and focused, but Damon barely heard a word. His mind was elsewhere, locked in.

So far, he’d been fighting clean. Technical. Testing himself against Ivan without calling on the full arsenal.

He hadn’t touched the King of the Ring Eye, the trump card that sharpened his vision and broke down opponents like a puzzle.

Part of him wanted this fight to be fair, man against man, skill against skill.

He wanted to beat Ivan at his best without leaning on the system.

But Ivan wasn’t breaking. He was defending well, countering sharp, and matching Damon in areas where others usually fell apart.

The horn sounded to end the break. Damon rose from the stool, his chest steady, expression calm but burning underneath.

He touched gloves lightly with Victor, nodded once, and walked forward, eyes never leaving Ivan.

This time, he wasn’t holding anything back.

The referee waved them in. Damon didn’t wait.

He came forward sharp, snapping a jab, then another, doubling up with a right hand behind it. Ivan’s guard caught the worst of it, but Damon didn’t stop.

He ripped a kick to the body, then slipped inside and landed a short left hook.

Ivan stumbled back a step, surprised by the pace.

Damon followed, head moving, letting his hands go with a crisp one-two, then pivoting off to land another calf kick.

The crowd roared, feeding off the champion’s surge.

Jim Logan leaned in. “Damon’s not slowing down here in the fourth! Look at the pressure, he doesn’t look tired at all.”

Ivan tried to jab his way out, but Damon slipped under and countered with a right uppercut.

Ivan clinched briefly, but Damon shoved him off and cracked another jab down the middle.

Victor’s voice echoed from the corner: “That’s it! Keep touching him! Don’t give him space!”

For the first minute, Ivan looked smothered. Every time he tried to reset, Damon was there, punch, kick, step off, back in his face.

Ivan’s composure showed cracks, his guard rattled by Damon’s body shots and the constant pressure.

But Ivan wasn’t done. After eating a stiff right cross, he finally dug back with a hook to the body, then followed with a jab upstairs.

Damon slipped, but Ivan pressed with a double jab and a right hand that landed on the cheek. Damon nodded, acknowledging the shot, but kept pushing forward.

The pace grew wild. Damon fired a three-punch combo, jab, right, left hook. Ivan blocked two, countered with a clean right down the middle that snapped Damon’s head back.

The crowd gasped, but Damon grinned, circling out, then stepped right back in with a calf kick and straight left.

Nix kept his analysis calm. “Ivan’s showing grit here. Damon turned up the heat, but Ivan’s not folding. He’s weathering the storm and answering back.”

Halfway through the round, Damon still looked fresh, his footwork bouncing, his head moving, his hands sharp.

Ivan’s chest rose heavier, his guard showing wear, but his counters stayed dangerous.

Damon feinted low, went high with the right hand, and Ivan slipped just enough to land a counter hook on the jaw.

The two met in the pocket, trading jabs and hooks, neither giving an inch.

Sweat flew, the crowd roared louder, and the referee hovered close, watching the intensity spike.

Damon circled, snapping another jab to Ivan’s guard, then dipped low for the calf kick.

Ivan checked it, ready for the strike, but that was the setup. Damon faked another jab, dropped levels smoothly, and shot in.

Ivan sprawled instantly, hips back, hands digging to push Damon down.

For a moment it looked like another stalemate, both men grunting as they collided against the cage. But Damon didn’t stop.

He switched directions, hooking Ivan’s leg, then lifted with his shoulder while dragging him sideways.

Ivan scrambled, trying to twist free, posting with his hand, but Damon powered through, driving hard until Ivan hit the canvas. The crowd erupted, roaring louder than ever.

Jim Logan nearly shouted over the noise. “There it is! Damon Cross with the takedown! He finally gets Ivan down to the mat!”

Damian Kormier added quickly, “That’s huge! We’ve seen Ivan defend all night, but Damon went above and beyond on that one, he forced it through with sheer persistence.”

On the ground, Damon stayed heavy, chest pressing into Ivan’s torso, pinning his hips while his forearm dug into the chin.

Ivan tried to shrimp and create space, but Damon smothered the movement, shifting his weight like a vice.

Nix broke it down evenly. “This is where Damon does so much damage. Once he’s on top, he doesn’t let you breathe. Ivan has to move, or this will get worse fast.”

The crowd kept cheering, celebrating the shift. Damon had wanted it, and now he’d made it happen, on his terms.

Damon stayed heavy on top, forehead pressed under Ivan’s chin, keeping his weight low and tight.

He shifted his hips, sliding into half guard, then postured just enough to drop a short elbow across the brow.

Ivan twisted, blocking the follow-up, but Damon quickly pinned the arm and landed another strike to the body.

The crowd cheered with every shot.

Jim Logan’s voice rose. “And Damon’s starting to open up from the top! Short, sharp shots, he’s making Ivan carry every pound of his weight.”

Ivan tried to shrimp out, framing with his forearm, but Damon adjusted, flattening him back to the mat.

He dug his knee higher into the ribcage, controlling the torso, then postured to throw a hammerfist.

Ivan blocked with his glove, but another elbow slipped through and thudded on the temple.

Damian Kormier jumped in. “That’s nasty. Damon’s not just holding him down, he’s working, making Ivan fight every second.”

For nearly a minute, Damon dominated, tight control, steady strikes, forcing Ivan to defend.

But Ivan’s composure held. Slowly, he worked his legs back inside, sneaking one knee between them.

Damon tried to push through, but Ivan used the space to shrimp hard, turn, and scramble.

He twisted toward the fence, posting on his hand, and with one last drive, pushed off the cage to get back to his feet.

The crowd roared as both men separated, breathing hard but still throwing sharp looks at each other.

Nix summed it up evenly. “Big moment for Damon to get him down, but Ivan showed why he’s undefeated. That escape took everything, he’s not giving Damon an easy night.”

Damon rolled his shoulders, nodding once. Ivan adjusted his mouthpiece and raised his guard again.

The round wasn’t over.