Damon circled Bobby slowly, his eyes focused, calculating each move. Bobby was still calm, measured.
Choosing to stay with his plan. His next kick shot out just as fast as the others, aimed at Bobby's lead leg.
It connected again with smack, but Bobby didn't flinch. He ate it like before, his stance still solid, his movement steady.
Damon could tell Bobby wasn't just here to defend.
He was waiting. Damon kept testing him, throwing in a few more quick punches, trying to find an opening.
Each jab met Bobby's gloves. His guard stayed tight, his defense still unbroken. A quick jab followed by a cross, but nothing broke through.
Then, out of nowhere, Bobby fired back with a combination of his own.
A fast jab cracked out toward Damon's face. Damon slipped the punch, but Bobby followed with a straight right hand, this time with real force behind it.
The power of the punch glanced off Damon's guard, sending a jolt through his arm. Bobby was showing a little more power now.
Damon knew he had to adjust.
He stayed calm, moving back just enough to avoid Bobby's follow-up low kick.
As soon as Bobby reset, Damon fired a leg kick of his own, landing it hard on Bobby's thigh.
Bobby took a step back but didn't break his rhythm. He was patient, but the power in his movements was starting to build.
Bobby's next combination came faster, another jab, then a quick left hook to the body.
Damon blocked the jab but the hook slipped through, landing hard on his ribs.
The impact was stronger than before, and Damon felt it. His body tightened as he took the shot, but still keeping his pace.
Damon stepped forward, firing back with a quick right cross, aiming for Bobby's head.
Bobby ducked under it smoothly, but Damon immediately followed with a hard left kick, targeting Bobby's lead leg again.
The kick connected, and this time, Bobby flinched slightly, his leg starting to show some signs of wear.
But Bobby wasn't backing down. Instead, he came forward more aggressively.
The referee quickly stepped between them, arms outstretched, separating the two men.
Damon and Bobby stood there for a moment, both breathing heavily, their eyes locked.
Neither had gotten the upper hand yet, but both knew the real fight had just begun.
As they turned and walked to their corners, the fighters watching from the sidelines murmured, knowing the next round would be even more aggressive.
With both fighters now having learned a bit about each other, they'll begin using that information to their advantage.
Damon sat down on the stool, his muscles still buzzing from the intensity of the first round.
His breath came in steady, controlled inhales and exhales.
One of the fighters in his corner handed him a water bottle, and Damon poured it over his head, feeling the cool liquid run down his face and neck.
As he glanced across the octagon at Bobby, he saw him breathing heavily but composed.
Damon could see the minimal damage on Bobby's leg now, a slight swelling on his thigh where the repeated kicks had landed.
But Bobby's power had surprised him, and he knew that if he wasn't careful, Bobby could take control in the next round.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, his mind running through the first round, breaking down everything he had seen.
As he opened his eyes, the strategy was clear in his mind. He could feel his legs ready to move again, his hands itching for the next exchange. The plan was solid–
Two key points of his strategy, movement and Bobby's head.
Bobby was strong, no doubt about it. He had the kind of power that could shift the momentum of a fight with a single punch.
But that power required a solid foundation, a foundation Damon was already chipping away at with those leg kicks.
The key, Damon realized, wasn't just to hurt Bobby physically; it was to frustrate him.
If Bobby couldn't get a steady stance, he wouldn't be able to throw his heavy shots effectively.
And that meant Damon couldn't afford to stand still either.
He had to be unpredictable, constantly shifting, darting in and out, making Bobby chase him.