MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked at his training partner across from him as he lightly bounced on his feet.

They were deep into the speed and reaction workout, and his muscles hurt from moving all the time.

A loud voice from the side of the gym said, "Keep it up, stay sharp! Don't let anything catch you off guard; act quickly"

Damon paid close attention to the tennis ball as it bounced back toward him. He caught it just as it was about to hit the ground.

Miles, across from him, chuckled, "Man, you're too quick. I'm over here struggling to keep up."

Damon smiled and quickly flicked his wrist to throw the ball back. "Gotta stay sharp. You never know what's coming at you in a fight."

Felipe and Dylan were working on a different drill nearby. They were dancing their feet quickly across the gym floor while slipping and sliding under ropes that were stretched out across the floor.

"You're moving like a sloth, Felipe!" Dylan teased, and he moved quickly and easily.
Continue reading on m v l e mpyr

Felipe shot him a look, ducking under the rope and firing back, "Yeah? Let's see you keep this up for another round without tripping over yourself."

Ivan worked on his precise footwork with one of the assistant coaches in a different corner. His big body moved with surprising grace for his size.

Today, Whittier had been emphasising speed and balance to make sure that all of the fighters could act on instinct.

"Stay light on your feet, Damon!" Whittier barked and looked around the room with his eyes. "You've got the reach and power, but it's useless if you don't react fast enough to make them pay."

Damon mentally took note as he moved on to the next drill, which was shadowboxing in front of a mirror with quick, sharp blows.

His body was reacting faster, and he could feel that his mind was clearer and more focused.

The reason for today's focus on speed and reflex training wasn't just a coincidence. It lined up perfectly with Damon's own needs.

When they arrived at the gym that morning, Damon had quietly approached Whittier, asking if he could focus specifically on speed and reflex drills.

He had a goal in mind, to improve his reaction time after cashing in the coins for the speed enhancement elixir.

Whittier, however, had taken the opportunity to extend that request to the whole team.

"Everyone could use sharper reflexes," Whittier had said with a nod, making the entire team shift gears for the day.

He could feel the elixir's affects running through his body as he pushed himself through the drills.

He was faster, more accurate, and his moves were smoother than they had been before.

He wasn't about to let this advantage go to waste.

He could sense the subtle changes, and it only fueled him to work harder.

The elixir gave him a boost, but in the fights to come, it would be his work that made the difference.

Miles, who had noticed Damon's increased speed, shot him a grin between breaths. "You're moving like lightning today, man. What'd you eat for breakfast?"

As a coach who is always paying attention, Whittier had also seen the progress.

Though he didn't say anything, Damon could feel his coach's eyes on him, watching the subtle shifts in his footwork, the precision in his strikes, the way he was putting everything into today's training.

It wasn't just about looking fast. It was about becoming faster.

Whittier stood at the edge of the gym, arms crossed, watching closely as his fighters trained.

He looked at Damon for a long time. The way he was moving was intense and sharp like it hadn't been before.

"That kid's a monster," Whittier muttered to one of his assistant coaches. "The improvement he's making is insane."

He was still watching Damon bob and weave, his hits quick and smooth, and the coach next to him nodded. "You said it was him who suggested this speed and reflex training, right?"

"Yeah," Whittier replied, not taking his eyes off Damon. "I had planned to focus on their boxing today, work on some fundamentals, but when Damon asked to work on speed, I figured why not squeeze in a session. It's gonna be included later on in their regimen anyway, so it fit."

The assistant coach chuckled. "Guess it's paying off early."

While they were still practicing, time went by.

Not only was Damon getting better, but other fighters were too.

They were finding their own rhythm and getting better at moving and aiming through their improving speed.

But none were improving at the same speed as Damon.

His footwork had become lighter, his reactions sharper. It was like watching someone hit another level right in front of them.

One of the fighters, Felipe, noticed too, taking a break between sets to shake his head. "Man, Damon's on another level today," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Yeah, he's dialed in," Miles added. "He's moving like he's already in a fight."

Whittier smiled slightly, hearing their comments. It wasn't just about Damon, though.

The whole team was improving.

The training was pushing them all, but Damon was leading by example, setting the bar high.

Whittier clapped his hands sharply, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.

"All right, everyone!" He yelled, "Gather up!" His voice could be heard over the heavy breathing and the steady thud of gloves on pads.

The fighters, who were drenched in sweat, slowed down right away and started making their way toward him.

They looked at each other quickly, exchanging glances.

Still trying to catch his breath, Damon wiped his face with the back of his glove. But his attention was fixed on Whittier.

Whittier nodded as the team gathered around. "Good job today," he said, his eyes sweeping over each fighter. "You've all pushed hard, and I'm seeing the progress. But now, it's time to get to the main training of the day."

The room was silent, and the fighters looked at each other with interest.

Damon stood still and waited with his arms crossed over his chest.

"We're focusing on striking next," Whittier continued, his voice taking on a more serious edge. "Head movement, footwork, and overall boxing."

He took a moment to let the tension build and watch how they reacted.

"And to make sure you're learning from the best, I've brought someone in. The best boxer in the UFA..."

Damon's eyebrow went up, and he could see that everyone else was moving around, eager to hear what Whittier had to say.

Whittier smiled, and the room got more and more excited as he finally said, "...Dax Halloway."

A wave of shocked murmurs went through the group.

As the fighters thought about what was going to happen, their eyes got bigger and they smiled.

Just then, the door swung open, and every head turned to see the man standing in the doorway.