Damon was locked into camp again.
This time, the focus wasn't on Enton.
It was on the man taking Enton's place in the middleweight matchup.
Shenil Ardigon.
Another fighter from the Dagestani mountains. The region had produced monster after monster for over a decade, and Shenil was no different. His highlights were short, violent, and efficient. Damon watched each clip twice.
Five professional fights.
Five wins.
Five finishes.
All TKO or KO.
A clean record, and not padded either. Every opponent had been solid. None stood a chance once Shenil got his rhythm. He pressured hard, punched harder, and carried himself like he belonged in championship conversations.
Damon could see the raw talent immediately.
But he also saw the inexperience.
It wasn't arrogance talking, he knew when he was speaking fact.
