Damon smirked as he hovered over Desayen. To anyone watching, it looked like bullying.
Calculated, technical bullying.
Desayen was down, and Damon followed immediately, not giving him even a second to breathe. He pressed him against the cage, using his forearm to post on the neck while his lower body controlled Desayen's hips.
Desayen tried to scramble, his instincts sharp even through the haze, but the angle was awkward. One leg was pinned underneath, the other pressed to the base of the cage, offering no real drive. His elbows were tucked in, trying to create frames, but Damon wasn't giving him space.
The position was entirely Damon's. It wasn't just about the takedown, it was about what followed.
He didn't stall. He didn't rest. That would give the referee a reason to stand them up.
Instead, he kept busy, short, sharp knees to the body. Nothing wild. But each one landed heavy, sinking into Desayen's ribs.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
