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Of all the times, it would have to be raining now. Long tarps were pulled over the spectator seating, shielding the audience from the pouring rain, but not so for the now-muddy sand-covered pit that was the GTB's main arena. Round four had begun after two difficult first rounds and a very lucky third-round dropout due to personal circumstances for Mooo's opponent. This gave Mooo plenty of time to recover, especially after how much his second-round fight had drained him.

Mooo stayed under the cover of the competitor's tunnel, waiting for his opponent to show. His name was announced, the polite, perfunctory applause from the audience being met with a raised fist of gratitude before he ducked back into the entrance tunnel to stay out of the rain.

As Mooo's opponent came out of his tunnel, Mooo headed out to greet him in the center of the arena, a hand held above his head, broad forearm somewhat shielding him from the downpour--at least it was enough to remain comfortable. He wouldn't have that kind of opportunity once the match started.

"Hey," he said in a friendly tone to Omi. "Good luck to you too, man. Uhh..." he paused as he considered Omi's question. Usually he was the one asking this of his opponents, but hey, courtesy was always welcome in matches like this.

"Let's try not to kill each other. My last opponent wasn't very nice about that," Mooo chuckled as he put his left fist forward, offering to "touch gloves" in a sense. "Oh, same for you. Was there anything you wanted me to watch out for? You're walkin' kinda funny, so if you want me to watch one o' your legs or anything..."

Mooo trailed off, leaving it for Omi to fill in the blanks as needed. This wasn't a life-or-death situation, it was a tournament with a lot of money at stake. Not doing well didn't have to mean that somebody had to go home in a stretcher--or a body bag.

Mooo nodded, backpedaling a few steps himself as the distance was given, relaxing into a left-lead stance, his feet more than shoulder-width apart, presenting his left side forward with his left hand outstretched farther than normal, elbow bent at a slight angle with his right hand tucked close to his chin.

This was a distancing stance, designed to measure and learn from what the opponent did, and to use Mooo's long arms to his advantage. It would also help somewhat now that Mooo saw Omi getting into a southpaw stance, which while not invincible was certainly problematic for a right-handed fighter like him. Mooo was capable of switch-hitting--he did it as a mixup tactic--but his absolute love of landing powerful right hooks made him stand righty every chance he could.

The rain fell in sheets, drenching his hair and plastering it to his skin and shirt, the same shirt that clung to his body, his pants sticking to his legs from the extra weight of the water. The sand in the arena was starting to turn to grainy mud, as Mooo slid forward slowly, closing the distance carefully, doing his best to ignore the rain slashing down his face, as he made his way toward Omi.

Southpaws had a natural advantage against righties--a southpaw's hook travelled less distance and did more damage than an orthodox jab, making it a faster and deadlier lead technique than what Mooo had to work with from this position. Mooo was aware of this, and was thus cautious. With Omi lowering his guard and seeming to draw him, a red flag went off in Mooo's head, and then he decided it would be better to fire the first shot(s) of this fight.

As the distance closed just a little more than arms' length for Mooo, his left shoulder jerked forward, snapping out a jab to Omi's face--but pulling it back a fraction of a second later in a feint, dipping his left hand down to go for a strike to the body and hopefully draw Omi's attention down--and away from Mooo's right hand, shooting out in a powerful twisting line for Omi's mouth. Mooo's footwork moved along with this, his hips turning with the starting jab-feint, then bending his knees and sliding forward a few inches as he seemingly went low, and finally bracing and pivoting counterclockwise with the turn of his hips to add power to the straight he'd thrown out, now that he was in range for rear-hand attacks.

Omi's shoulder-check landed on solid muscle--shoulders made excellent shields, much like the rest of the arm, but it did cut Mooo's second feint short and effectively sealed off his left arm for the moment. Mooo continued with the plan he had in mind, adjusting the one-two-three pattern to fire out the right in the same rhythm he'd done the initial feints in.

Torquing his hips and throwing his weight into this attack, Mooo kept in range, changing his attack to a hard right hook that would more than likely be blocked at this range, since Omi would have to be expecting a right to come in. Mooo's entire weight was in this attack, and from this close it was sure to hit--not necessarily hitting Omi per se, but Omi was so close-in that ducking wasn't a very good option at this point. With his entire weight behind a punch, Mooo was positive some damage would pass through the guard to his opponent.

Mooo's punch didn't feel quite right when it hit--usually when he hit people with all his weight, they bowled on over but for some reason it felt... different. Like the impact was dispersed. Even then, Mooo's right hand was caught up by Omi's right--both his hands were tied up. Mooo didn't particularly have time to think about that, though, as his opponent's left fist crashed into his ribs, causing him to take a step to his left in surprise.

This little step caused by the impact of the punch freed him up from Omi's shoulder press, if only giving him a little bit of leeway... but a little bit was all he needed. Moving with the same direction as Omi's punch, Mooo's now-freed left hand turned upwards, shooting straight up in a tight, close-quarters short upper aimed right for Omi's chin. Mooo wasn't able to generate full leverage from it, but it was a strong shot powered solely from the shoulder and back--unable to get his legs into it due to the last hit, Mooo had to rely on his considerable arm strength to try and see it through this time.

Because Mooo had moved very slightly to throw the upper, Omi's blow didn't land dead-on in the same spot--but it was close enough. Mooo connected solidly with the upper, pulling his left back to get it ready for another punch, however any thoughts of immediately following up were cut short as Omi hit practically the same spot he'd just hit before, causing Mooo to shuffle a little farther to his left, clenching his right arm against his body. Mooo had few options at this point but to keep slugging it out, but the impact against Omi's body still didn't feel right, and he wasn't sure why. Mooo had a feeling that slugging it out with Omi at this distance wouldn't be as much in his favor as he initially thought it would be, but right now he didn't have any other choice.

Raising his right elbow to make it parallel with his shoulder, Mooo telegraphed a massive right hook, angling his elbow up so it would become a chopping right. At the same time, he tucked his left hand back, preparing to really throw a left--hopefully Omi would duck into another uppercut or a tight hook. If Omi swayed back, Mooo would try for a body shot just to test if he was right that not all was correct when he almost landed that hook. Omi's reactions should have been just a tiny bit slower than normal due to his brain getting rattled from the chin-shot, but in this kind of suicide-range fight, a tiny difference could make a lot. Both hands were prepped to throw a punch, but the right was there as a tester--Mooo would use that to see how Omi reacted and then throw an attack with his left from there. However, if Omi protected his left side, Mooo would have a fully-torqued right ready to fire, but its obvious nature as a telephone punch would most likely give Omi plenty of time to guard, even if he had switched to guarding his left. Either way, Mooo could only commit to one real attack, despite the dual nature of this setup, and was waiting for Omi's reaction in the coming moments before actually acting on the situation.