MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Chapter 18: David And Goliath I

Matt was already standing in the makeshift octagon ring, his eyes fixed intently on Damon as he prepared for the fight.

Damon pulled out a mouthguard from his plastic bag and inserted it into his mouth, the rubbery texture conforming to his teeth.

He then retrieved a pair of new gloves, their bright color and sleek design drawing attention from the crowd.

As Damon began to put on the gloves, the onlookers exchanged skeptical glances. "Does he think this is some pro match or something?" someone whispered, their voice laced with amusement.

"Well, it's not like he's going to win, so let him put on his show," another person chimed in, their tone dripping with condescension.

The crowd's murmurs grew louder, their voices filled with a mix of curiosity and ridicule.

Damon's choice of gear was unusual, as most fights in this setting didn't involve such elaborate equipment.

The gloves, in particular, seemed out of place, their padding and wrist support a far cry from the thin, worn-out gloves or old boxing gloves typically used in these informal matches.

As Damon finished securing the gloves, he gave his hands a few test flexes, the leather creaking softly.

His eyes never left Matt's face, his gaze burning with a quiet intensity.

Damon stepped into the ring, his eyes scanning the makeshift enclosure.

His shirt was baggy, proof to his skinny physique.

As he entered the ring, a wave of nervousness washed over him.

His heart rate quickened, and his palms grew moist.

He recognized the sensation, acknowledging the fear that came with knowing what lay ahead.

Yet, he controlled his breathing, drawing slow, deliberate inhales through his nose and exhaling through his mouth.

"OKAY, SO FIGHT!!" Joey's voice boomed, echoing off the surrounding fences.

Damon's gaze snapped to Matt, his opponent, as he assumed his Muay Thai stance.

He spread his feet shoulder-width apart, aligning his hips and shoulders.

His right foot slid back, weight transferring onto his left leg, while his hands rose to guard his face in a banucular shape, resembling goggles.

His fingers were spread, and his palms faced outward, protecting his head and face from incoming strikes.

Matt snorted, approaching Damon with a mix of amusement and disdain.

"Come on, bish, let's do this," he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.

The air was heavy with tension as the two fighters faced off, their bodies poised for combat.

The crowd's murmurs grew louder, their excitement palpable.

Damon's focus remained fixed on Matt, his eyes locked onto his opponent's, his mind centered on the task ahead.

The two fighters circled each other, their eyes locked in a fierce stare. Matt, eager to close the distance, took a step forward, but Damon was quick to react.

With a swift motion, he threw a low right kick, aiming for Matt's thigh. The kick connected with a solid thud, the impact resonating through the air.

Matt smirked, seemingly unphased by the kick. He continued to move closer, his eyes fixed on Damon's face.

Damon, anticipating the incoming attack, tried to move out of the way, but Matt's punch was too fast. It grazed Damon's face, the knuckles barely missing his nose. The punch still landed, however, and Damon felt a surge of pain.

But Damon didn't waste the opportunity. Matt had put his whole body into the punch, leaving himself open to a counterattack.

Damon seized the moment, throwing a sloppy hook with his right hand. The punch was far from perfect, but it still landed squarely on Matt's face. The impact was audible, and Matt's head snapped back slightly.

Damon's eyes locked onto Matt's, sensing a shift in his demeanor. The punch had landed, and Matt's expression betrayed a flicker of annoyance.

The crowd's collective "ohhh" echoed through the air, a symphony of surprise and excitement. Damon's small frame stumbled backward, his feet struggling to maintain balance as Matt's push sent him off-kilter.

Matt's massive body loomed closer, his front kick aimed squarely at Damon's midsection. Damon's instincts screamed at him to avoid the kick at all costs.

He stumbled back further, exaggerating his movement to evade the kick's full force. The fence behind him pressed into his back, a cold, unforgiving barrier that halted his retreat.

Matt closed in, his eyes blazing with intensity. Damon's Muay Thai stance began to falter, his movements becoming sloppy and uncoordinated.

His training was limited, and the pressure of the fight was taking its toll. He shifted to the side, his feet shuffling awkwardly as he tried to regain his footing.

Damon's heart beat fast, struggling to maintain his composure.

Matt's presence was overwhelming, his sheer size and strength making Damon feel like a fragile, vulnerable target.

The fence behind him seemed to be closing in, trapping him in a desperate bid for survival.

Damon launched a front kick, aiming for Matt's stomach, hoping to push him back and create some distance.

But Matt was too quick, and his massive hands closed around Damon's foot like a vice. Damon's eyes widened as Matt pulled him forward, his body stretching out like a rubber band.

Damon's hands grasped the fence behind him, his fingers digging into the metal as he tried to anchor himself.

But Matt's strength was too much, and Damon felt himself being pulled off balance. He kicked out with his legs, trying to land a hit, but Matt's grip was too strong.

Damon's chest was exposed, and Matt's face was inches from his, their hot breath mingling in the air.

Damon's kicks kept missing Matt's face, but he managed to land a few glancing blows on his chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter, their jokes and jeers filling the air.

"Hey, someone open up and let him out!" one of the watchers yelled, chuckling.

"Yeah, he's stuck!" another voice chimed in, as the crowd continued to mock Damon's predicament.

Damon's face reddened with effort, his muscles straining as he tried to break free from Matt's grip.

But Matt's hold was unyielding, his fingers wrapped tightly around Damon's foot like a trap.

The fence creaked and groaned under Damon's weight, the metal digging into his back as he struggled to escape.

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