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.
