The bell rang, and the fight between Damon Cross and Jaxon Lee began.
Damon moved forward with confidence, his Muay Thai skills ready to shine.
Jaxon, shorter and with a boxing background, took a cautious stance, trying to stay out of Damon's range.
Damon started with a quick low kick, aiming at Jaxon's lead leg.
Jaxon winced but kept moving. Damon didn't waste time.
He threw another low kick, then followed with a straight right hand.
Jaxon tried to respond with a jab, but Damon ducked and slipped out of the way.
Commentators spoke as the fighters moved.
Michael said, "Damon's low kicks are looking sharp. He's using his height and reaches well."
Daniel added, "Jaxon needs to close the distance to use his boxing. But Damon's doing a great job keeping him at bay."
Damon continued his attack. He landed another low kick, then added a sharp left elbow to Jaxon's side.
Jaxon staggered slightly but stayed on his feet. He tried to move in with a combination of punches, but Damon blocked and countered with a right cross.
Damon's height gave him an advantage. He was able to keep Jaxon at a distance, using his longer reach.
He landed a few more punches and a heavy elbow strike that made Jaxon back up. Jaxon looked frustrated, struggling to get past Damon's defense.
Michael remarked, "Damon is really controlling the pace here. Jaxon seems to be struggling to find his rhythm."
Daniel agreed, "Yes, Damon's strikes are landing cleanly. Jaxon needs to make a move soon, or he'll be in trouble."
Jaxon tried to close the distance again, throwing a combo of punches.
The announcer walked into the cage with a steady stride, microphone in hand.
Jaxon Lee had already regained his senses and was talking with his corner men.
Damon Cross stood alone in the center, his gaze focused, awaiting the official decision.
The referee, standing between the two fighters, took hold of their wrists, preparing to declare the victor. The crowd quieted down, eager to hear the final result.
The announcer raised the microphone to his lips, his voice booming through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, referee John Doe has called a stop to this contest at 2 minutes, 35 seconds of the very first round, declaring the winner by knockout..."
The pause added to the tension even though everyone already knew who won. Every eye in the arena focused on the center of the cage.
The announcer's voice rose as he called out, "Damon Cross!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, their energy filling the venue. The referee lifted Damon's hand high, signaling his victory.
Damon allowed a small, confident smile to cross his face as he soaked in the applause.
Damon shook the referee's hand, then the announcer's, as a sign of respect.
Next, he walked over to Jaxon, who was still recovering from the knockout.
Damon extended his hand, and Jaxon took it, his eyes narrowing slightly, pulling him into a hug.
"I heard you said goodnight to me," Jaxon said, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "Maybe you should go pick on guys your own size." He stepped back, forcing a smile onto his face.
Damon glared at Jaxon, feeling a surge of irritation. He couldn't deny it; Jaxon's words were getting to him.
It wasn't like they were lies, either. Damon had been dominating the fight, and his height and reach had given him a significant advantage.
But Damon pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on his goal.
He was going to fight the last match, then request to change weight classes to a suitable from Mr steele. In his mind, the nexy fight was already a guaranteed win.