The format had shifted.

To keep things moving, the producers decided on a two-fight day, one lightweight, one middleweight.

That meant more pressure, more adrenaline, and more chances for the tide to shift.

But with his team still undefeated, Damon had full control. Again.

He stood by the matchup board, arms crossed, studying both teams. Fighters from both corners watched, waiting to hear their names. The room was quiet, filled with eyes but no voices.

Damon didn't drag it out.

"For lightweight," he said, "Kenji Sato… versus Trevor Mills."

No one reacted at first.

Kenji, calm as ever, stood and gave a slight nod. Trevor's jaw tightened as he stepped forward too, saying nothing. Both men were measured types, but this wasn't going to be a slow fight.

Trevor was well-rounded, but Kenji had a frustrating style, tight defense, smart counters, and a knack for stealing rounds with clean shots.

Damon looked over the middleweights now.

He gave the board one last glance, then spoke again.

"For middleweight… Kaito Mori versus Chase Dunham."

This time, there was more reaction. Not from the crowd, but from the fighters themselves.

Chase stood with no hesitation, locking eyes with Kaito. He'd been itching to fight. Damon knew that. Maybe he even wanted this to happen.

Chase had been loud, critical, and cocky since day one. Damon didn't mind the attitude, he just wanted to see if the skills matched.

Kaito, in contrast, was the quiet blade. Calm, sharp, and efficient.

Damon watched as both pairs stood across from one another. The board was set. Two fights. Four fighters. All picked by one coach.

He looked over at Ivan, who leaned back with his arms folded.

Not a word.

But Damon could tell, the pressure was building on the other side. And after tonight, it might double again.

The four fighters stepped forward under the bright lights, lining up for the official face-offs.

Kenji Sato and Trevor Mills were up first. Both men walked in without emotion.

Trevor kept his mouth shut, eyes steady. Kenji stood tall with his hands behind his back, chin slightly raised.

No words were exchanged. They locked eyes briefly, nodded once, then stepped back. It was clean, professional, and forgettable.

Then Chase Dunham came forward, already grinning as he approached. Kaito Mori followed him calmly, hands tucked in his warm-up hoodie pockets.

He didn't break eye contact as he walked, and he didn't react to Chase's energy.

They squared up, and Chase wasted no time.

"You don't belong here," he said, his voice loud enough for the cameras and corner crews to hear. "You fight like a scared fucking point fighter. This ain't no dojo, bitch."

Kaito didn't react at first. His face stayed neutral, his posture still. But Chase leaned in closer.

"I'm gonna make your little fan club back in Tokyo cry when I crack that glass jaw."

That line landed.

Kaito stepped forward without saying a word and shoved Chase hard in the chest with both hands. Chase stumbled back two steps, caught off guard, then squared up like he wanted to throw a punch.

Coaches and staff jumped in instantly. Damon reached Kaito first, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back while Kaito kept his eyes locked on Chase.

Ivan held Chase by the chest with both arms, barking at him to stay calm, but Chase kept trying to push through.

"Fuck you," Chase snapped, pointing at Kaito. "You're mine. You're fucking mine."

Kaito didn't say anything. He wiped his nose, adjusted his hoodie, and turned away like nothing happened.

The producers rushed in to calm things down. The official stepped between the fighters, hands out, shouting for space and order. The crowd of staff and fighters behind the camera buzzed with energy.

Damon shook his head but didn't say much.

But Damon had seen some truth in what Chase said.

It wasn't just trash talk. The "glass jaw" comment wasn't entirely wrong. Damon had gone over footage of Kaito before the show.

He'd even sparred with a simulation version of him in the system. And it was there, Kaito didn't absorb shots well.

When clean punches got through, they changed the fight. He didn't wobble often, but when he did, it was obvious.

What saved him was his defense. Kaito kept a tight guard, barely gave openings, and rarely overcommitted. Enjoying the story? Find more at MV-LEMPYR.

His footwork was sharp, and he controlled range well. He moved like someone who knew he couldn't afford to take hits. That awareness had helped him avoid damage in his fights back home.

Still, in a setting like this, with smaller gloves, constant pressure, and unpredictable opponents, Damon knew that wouldn't always be enough.

Eventually, someone would break through. And if Chase did, he might just be the one to crack it.

That didn't mean Damon doubted Kaito's ability. He'd chosen him for a reason.

But now he had a new priority in the short time before the fight. Reinforce Kaito's guard, tighten his exits, and drill counters that discouraged pressure.

He didn't need Kaito to trade shots. He just needed him to land, reset, and avoid the war Chase was clearly hoping to drag him into.

But Damon still felt one hundred percent confident that Kaito would win.

Despite the concern about Kaito's chin, Damon had seen enough to believe in his ability. Kaito wasn't passive.

He didn't hide behind a guard and hope to survive. He used his defense as a tool to set up clean, efficient offense.

His striking was top tier, sharp footwork, crisp angles, and a calm that let him adjust mid-fight.

He knew when to pressure, when to pull back, and how to mix things up so opponents couldn't settle.

He wasn't a brawler, but he wasn't passive either. Kaito fought with intelligence and control. That kind of fighter, with the right discipline, could dominate a reckless one.

And that's exactly why Damon picked Chase.

Chase had power. Damon didn't deny that. If he landed clean, he could hurt people, but the problem was everything else.

His defense was wide open. He dropped his hands constantly, especially after blocking a punch.

His movement was stiff, and he made decisions in the cage that left Damon shaking his head every time he watched tape.

It wasn't just a matter of being raw. Chase fought like he never fixed bad habits.

He would block one punch, then reset his stance as if the combo ended there. He would chase opponents in straight lines.

He overcommitted on wild shots that left his chin high. Damon didn't see a fighter building toward a title.

He saw someone who'd been winning through sheer grit, maybe even luck, but hadn't learned enough.

That was exactly the kind of opponent Kaito could dismantle. Damon didn't need a knockout.

He just needed Kaito to stay smart and break Chase down one mistake at a time. If he did that, the win was guaranteed.