MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

The day came to a close, the fights playing out just as planned.

Damon won quickly and clearly, showing that he is in control.

Fans and experts were amazed by how easily he defeated his opponent.

In the second fight, James Phillip won.

While James didn't perform as quickly or as impressively as Damon, his strong strikes helped him win and advance to the final tomorrow.

Now, the stage was set. Tomorrow, Damon Cross would face James Phillip in the last match of the qualifiers, a fight that would determine who would represent Ireland in the World MMA Tournament.

The anticipation was already building. All eyes were on Damon.

In the eyes of the fans, Damon had already won tomorrow's match.

But for Damon, the fight wasn't over, not yet.

He was awake in his hotel room and couldn't sleep, even though it was late.

He got up from the bed and walked to the window, barely noticing the soft noise of the city outside.

He placed his hands on the frame and looked out into the night.

He looked in a certain direction, as if trying to find something far away.

Time seemed to move slowly as he stood there, deep in thought.

He sighed, feeling the heaviness of his thoughts.

Earlier today, after his fight, Damon spoke with Victor.

Damon had been preparing for a private and important talk for a long time.

Victor thought about what he heard and, then finally gave the blessing to Damon.

And that was all Damon needed.

Now, as he looked out at the world, Damon felt a strange sense of calm.

Tomorrow would come soon enough, and with it, another fight.

But for tonight, his mind was elsewhere, and his heart felt a little lighter.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the silence. Damon glanced at the screen, Joey.

Shouldn't he be asleep by now? Damon thought as he picked up the call.

"Yeah, Joey?"

On the other end, Joey's voice was casual but laced with excitement. "Damon, the podcast I told you about is still on. When do you think you'll want to do it?"

Damon paused, considering the question. He knew the podcast was a good opportunity, but he wasn't in a rush.

"When I win the tournament," Damon replied confidently, his voice steady and resolute.

Joey was quiet for a moment before letting out a playful sigh.

"Arrogant," he said in a joking tone. "Alright, champ, I'll make sure to set it up. Also, amazing match today, by the way."

"Thanks," Damon said simply.

The chat was short, just a quick talk before they hung up.

Damon put his phone back on the nightstand with a slight smile.

He knew he needed rest.

He'd already spoken to Svetlana earlier, and now, with the call wrapped up, there was nothing left to distract him.

With tomorrow's fight looming, Damon lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, and let the anticipation fade as sleep finally came.

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The next day arrived faster than expected.
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For the fans, there was something exhilarating about watching a fighter like Damon Cross compete.

It didn't matter who the opponent was; every time he stepped into the cage, it felt like an event.

Damon and Victor stood side by side in the waiting area. Victor, dressed in professional attire as always.

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They didn't have to wait long. The official soon arrived, clipboard in hand, wasting no time on lengthy explanations.

"You both know the drill," the official said, addressing Damon and James Phillip.

"Yesterday covered everything, so I won't repeat myself. Go change. You've got an hour to prepare."

Damon nodded slightly, focused and ready.

He didn't need any lectures or motivation.

He turned toward the changing room, ready to move forward in his journey.

Victor stayed right behind, saying nothing extra.

Everything was ready, and now it was time to put the plan into action.

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In James Phillip's locker room, the tension was high.

His team moved around the space, their pacing and whispered conversations revealing their unease.

They were trying to come up with a strategy, something, anything, that could work against Damon Cross.

James sat on the bench, wrapping his hands, trying to block out the negativity swirling around him.

He felt confident in his abilities, he knew his power and striking could be dangerous if used properly, but it was hard to stay focused when his own team looked defeated before the fight even began.

The chatter grew louder until his coach finally stopped pacing and turned to James. "Look," the coach said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension, "you have to win this fight."

James stared at him, incredulous.

That was it?

That was the advice?

Telling him to win a fight against what was probably his greatest obstacle yet?

It felt useless.

Of course he had to win, but hearing it said out loud just highlighted how flawed their approach was.

He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath.

If his team wasn't going to give him anything concrete, then he'd have to rely on himself.

He didn't need anyone to tell him what he already knew, this was going to be the toughest fight of his career.

But James wasn't about to roll over. He stood up, his eyes narrowing as he looked in the mirror.

This was James's chance to get his career back on track.

His time in the UFA had been rocky, marred by setbacks and constant injuries that left him on the sidelines more than in the cage.

His name had faded from the spotlight, and for many fans, he was already a forgotten chapter.

But this fight, this fight against Damon Cross, could change everything.

Even if he didn't win the entire tournament, beating someone like Damon would put his name back on the map.

Still, as much as the thought motivated him, James knew it was flawed.

Focusing on just this fight wasn't enough.

Winning this match would be a small victory, but if he truly wanted to revive his career, he needed to aim higher.

He couldn't just want to beat Damon, he had to want to win the entire tournament.

James exhaled, shaking the doubt from his mind.

No matter what the odds were, he was stepping into that cage to fight, and he would fight to win.

James had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

Losing to someone like Damon Cross wouldn't be a stain on his record, it was almost expected.

But the potential upside was enormous.

If he could pull off the upset, his name would shoot back into relevance.

He'd go from being a forgotten fighter to the man who toppled one of the sport's fastest-rising stars.

Damon, on the other hand, had everything to lose, his undefeated record, his momentum, and his aura of invincibility.

James clenched his fists.

He had to go all out, no matter what.

There was no room for hesitation or self-doubt.

He closed his eyes for a moment, visualizing the future.

He could see himself standing in the UFA cage, the middleweight championship on the line.

He could feel the roar of the crowd, the weight of the belt around his waist.

That vision was within reach, but it all started here.

This fight wasn't just a chance, it was the chance.

And James knew he couldn't let it slip away.