Marcus Perez, 28, is a self-made event promoter with 14 years of combat sports ambitions and zero completed promotions. On Wednesday, he announced he’d successfully narrowed the potential fight date for an undisclosed grappling match between two unnamed athletes to “the same night.” Perez runs Precision Combat Series from his two-bedroom apartment in Denton, Texas, and hadn’t spoken to either competitor as of publication time.
The fight—tentatively scheduled for July 19 or August 2, depending on when Perez makes up his mind—represents three months of what he calls “active negotiation” with the two athletes. When asked what these negotiations looked like, Perez explained he’d been leaving comments on both fighters’ Instagram Stories and messaging what he believed were their old coaches.
“It’s more about establishing presence than immediate contact,” Perez said during a 47-minute voice memo sent to a reporter at 11:43 p.m. Tuesday. “These guys know I’m serious because I’m everywhere. Well, everywhere their Instagram history is.”
One of the two fighters, who agreed to speak on condition of anonymity, said he didn’t know Perez or Precision Combat Series. “I think someone’s been messaging my old coach from 2019, but I don’t have any information about this,” the athlete said. “Are you asking me to confirm I’m fighting? Because I’m not. I don’t think. Is this some kind of scam?”
When he learned Perez had announced the fight on three separate platforms and pre-sold tickets, the athlete asked if he had any legal recourse. “I’m being sold a ticket to watch myself, potentially? I want to be clear: I have never agreed to this.”
Precision Combat Series operates from a shared Instagram account run by Perez and his roommate Derek Hollis, 26, a recent college graduate studying business administration online. The company’s business license, filed under “Grappling Events and Consulting,” was never renewed after its initial filing in 2023. Perez said he did this on purpose.
“Licenses are bureaucratic,” Perez explained. “They slow down innovation. What matters is vision, and my vision is singular: two grapplers, one night, same night.”
When a reporter asked what “the same night” meant, Perez spent 13 minutes explaining that both athletes would compete during the same 24-hour calendar period, rather than on separate evenings. “Most promoters don’t think like this,” he said. “They book one guy on Saturday, the other guy on Friday. I’m saying: what if they both went on the same night? That’s the innovation.”
The second athlete, reached through a training partner, said he’d never heard from Perez, the company, or anyone connected to either. “I honestly don’t know who this is,” he said. “Should I be worried? Is there a police report I should file?”
Perez replied 40 minutes later via an Instagram comment on an unrelated post about grip tape: “Your energy speaks volumes. DM me so we can sync up on your contract.”
Precision Combat Series announced the fight on Instagram, TikTok, and a LinkedIn profile that Perez created on Wednesday specifically for the company. Each platform lists a different date. The Instagram post says July 19; the TikTok says August 2; the LinkedIn article, titled “Disrupting Combat Sports One Night at a Time,” doesn’t list a date but describes a “mystical alignment of scheduling energy.”
The digital poster, made with a Canva template and barely edited, features a stock photo of two men grappling with red text reading “PRECISION COMBAT SERIES PRESENTS: THE MAIN EVENT” across the top. The venue is listed as “TBD or Possibly Denton Crossfit.” Denton Crossfit hadn’t been contacted about hosting the event. The gym’s owner learned about it from a reporter and said: “We’ve never met this guy. We’d probably say no anyway.”
Hollis explained the date mix-up as a deliberate strategy. “Marcus was looking at, like, five potential dates and trying to find the sweet spot where both guys might show up,” Hollis said. “He didn’t actually contact them to confirm availability—that’s phase two. But he narrowed it down to the dates where he could personally attend, and then he thought: what if we just told everyone it’s the same night? Lock it in now, figure out the details later.”
When asked if either fighter had confirmed availability, Hollis smiled. “No. But that’s the genius part—by declaring the date first, we’re giving them something concrete to work around. It’s a negotiation anchor. It’s marketing.”
Precision Combat Series sold 12 tickets at $45 each to Perez’s friends, family members, and Hollis’s parents, who bought four tickets under the impression that this was a legitimate professional event. Perez told them the proceeds would go toward “promotion infrastructure.” The company currently has approximately $87 in its bank account, which is technically Perez’s personal account with “Combat Series” scrawled in the notes of random transactions.
As of 6 p.m. Wednesday, Perez was still trying to find the second fighter’s contact information by searching variations of “grappler guy Denton,” “jiu jitsu bro Denton Texas,” and “submission specialist near me” on Instagram. He’d sent follow requests to 23 accounts in the past three hours. None responded. He said he’d have confirmation by Friday. “The energy is building,” Perez said. “I can feel it. The sport can feel it. Once they see the three platforms, once they see ‘the same night,’ they’ll understand the seriousness. That’s when everyone gets on board.”
When asked if he’d considered simply calling either athlete, Perez looked confused by the question. “Call? Why would I call when I can build momentum through presence? That’s old-school thinking.”
Precision Combat Series booked a follow-up event for September, tentatively titled “The Return of the Same Night,” featuring a second undisclosed match between an unnamed grappler and “possibly the winner of the first one, or someone else—we’re being flexible.” Neither competitor for the first event confirmed they’re fighting.