MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

In a private room down the hall, six friends were scattered around, lounging on the couches, yet all were fully focused on the fight playing on the big screen.

The intensity of the match had everyone on edge.

Damon sat next to Svetlana, an arrangement orchestrated by their friends, but neither seemed to mind.

When the bell rang to end the first round, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, letting go of the stress that had built up over the first five minutes of action.

Ash leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, while Tyr shook his head in amazement at the war unfolding between Whittier and Chemasov.

Damon leaned back on the couch, brushing lightly against Svetlana's arm.

She glanced at him with a small smile, and without words, the two shared a moment of silent acknowledgment.

Both of them didn't seem uncomfortable, but there was a deeper connection between them that hadn't been there before.

Ty spoke up, breaking the quiet. "Man, that was just the first round? They're tearing each other apart."

Ash nodded, still wide-eyed. "Yeah, and it feels like it's just getting started."

Joey, who had been uncharacteristically silent, finally spoke. "Who do you think took that round, Damon?"

Damon tilted his head, thinking carefully before answering. "Tough to say. Whittier's got the technical edge, but Chemasov's relentless. It's gonna come down to who can keep that pace going."

Joey nodded and raised good points, "But I think if Chemasov fails to end the match in the next round, it might slip away. He doesn't exactly have great cardio. If Whittier keeps dragging the fight and maintaining his balance, he might take it."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Chemasov was known to be a monster in the earlier rounds, finishing most of his matches quickly, but once the fight dragged on, it became harder for him to maintain his dominant performance.

Ash chimed in, "I think he can still manage. He was able to take Whittier down earlier, so I don't see why he can't keep that up."

Ashley shook her head confidently. "No way, I'm taking Whittier. He's got the endurance for this."

Ash looked at her and grinned. "You wanna bet on that?"

Ashley smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. Winner buys drinks and covers the hotel for all of us."

Ash's voice rose as he extended his hand, playfully faking a spit handshake. "Deal!"

Ashley looked at his hand and scoffed, refusing to shake it. "No thanks."

The group chuckled at the twins' antics.

Joey grinned, adding to the excitement. "Drinks and a free hotel stay? I'm in. Can't wait to see how this plays out."

Back in the cage, both fighters had just finished their rest period, listening to their coaches' advice.

Hank Binn signaled the start of the round, and the fighters immediately took their positions.

"Round two is underway," James Nix announced, his voice filled with anticipation. "We saw an intense first round, and both these fighters know they need to adjust now. Whittier is pushing the pace, but Chemasov has been biding his time. Let's see what they bring."

Chemasov started the round much slower than expected.

Instead of his usual explosive attacks and takedown attempts, he remained composed, measuring his distance, circling cautiously as Whittier applied steady pressure.

Whittier saw the opening and moved for combinations.

Whittier fired off a sharp jab, followed by his signature left-right-left combo, each strike landing solidly as Chemasov's guard absorbed the blows.

The speed of Whittier's punches kept Chemasov on the back foot, forcing him to cover up and retreat.

"Whittier is coming in strong, pushing the pace with those precise combinations," Demien Korvier noted. "This is where Whittier thrives, when he's dictating the fight on the feet."

Jim Logan jumped in. "You can see Chemasov's being cautious here. He's not going in for the kill like he usually does, maybe conserving energy after that explosive first round."

Whittier's confidence grew as he continued to pepper Chemasov with crisp strikes, a jab-cross-hook that kept landing clean.

But just when Whittier was about to reset his position, thinking he had Chemasov pinned down, Chemasov struck.

Out of nowhere, Chemasov changed levels, exploding forward with a sudden double-leg takedown attempt, his powerful arms wrapping around Whittier's waist.

Whittier, caught off guard by the timing, instinctively sprawled, his legs pushing back as he tried to fend off the takedown.

"Oh, here comes the takedown!" Nix shouted. "Chemasov waited for the perfect moment, and now he's shooting in!"

Whittier struggled, his body leaning into the cage as he fought to stay upright, gripping onto Chemasov's head, trying to control his posture and maintain balance.

People in the crowd stood up and paid close attention to the clash of power.

"This is what Chemasov does best," Logan added. "Even when you think you have him under control, he waits for that split second when you're vulnerable, and then he attacks."

But Whittier wasn't giving up easily. His legs dug into the canvas, and he managed to fend off Chemasov's initial drive.

For a moment, it seemed as though Whittier might escape, but Chemasov wasn't done.

Gritting his teeth, Chemasov shifted his weight and powered through, driving Whittier off-balance and pulling him down to the mat.

"Chemasov gets the takedown! What a show of strength!" Demien exclaimed. "Whittier tried everything, but Chemasov's relentless pressure just overwhelmed him."

The crowd roared as Chemasov established dominant position on top, his arms locking around Whittier's midsection as he began to advance.

He moved quickly, transitioning into side control before finally slipping into full mount.

"Now this is dangerous," Logan remarked, his tone serious. "Chemasov in top position is a nightmare for anyone, and Whittier knows he's in trouble."

From the mount, Chemasov wasted no time.

He postured up, creating space to unleash his signature ground-and-pound.

He started raining down heavy punches, each one landing with a thud against Whittier's arms and body.

Whittier, trying to cover up, desperately attempted to buck Chemasov off, but the weight of Chemasov's body made escape nearly impossible.

"This is what Chemasov does," Nix added. "Once he's on top, he smothers you, and those punches are brutal."

Whittier continued to struggle, twisting his body, trying to disrupt Chemasov's balance, but the Russian powerhouse remained firmly planted.

Chemasov's ground-and-pound was persistent, and each hammerfist hit hard enough to break bones.

Whittier was doing his best to mitigate the damage, but he was taking serious punishment.

"Whittier's got to find a way out of this," Somewhat worried, Demien spoke up. "Chemasov is pouring it on, and if Whittier doesn't move, the ref might stop it."

Whittier, sensing the danger, finally managed to bridge his hips, creating just enough space to disrupt Chemasov's balance for a split second.

It wasn't much, but it gave Whittier a brief window to scramble.

Chemasov noticed the change and tightened his grip, shifting to stay in charge and get ready for another round of punches as Whittier fought to stay alive under the heavy pressure.