Damon let the footage roll for a few more minutes, then grabbed the remote and paused it again. He shifted slightly, one foot resting over the other, and scratched his jaw as he thought.
Svetlana looked over, sensing he was about to say something.
"I think Joren's gonna win," Damon said finally. "But it's not going to be dominant. Not this time. It'll be close."
She sipped from her glass, waiting as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"See, stylistically… this is the kind of matchup real fight fans actually wanna see," he continued. "You've got two elite guys with opposite rhythms. If they didn't already fight once, I'd say it's fifty-fifty. But they did. And Joren won."
He raised the remote, scrolled back ten seconds to a frame of Edlen stalking a previous opponent.
"Joren's the pressure cooker. Wrestles nonstop, never gives space. He doesn't rush, but he doesn't stop either. The man is a cardio tank. He'll feint ten times just to set up the one shot he needs."
