MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

The window let in a lot of morning light, giving the room a soft, warm glow.

Before going right to the shower, Damon stretched and blinked awake.

He wanted to let the water wash away the weight of the intense simulation from the night before.

It had been a real test of skill to fight against the simulated Cellan Gustalam.

Damon had spent hours honing his responses, learning how to neutralize Gustalam's brutal aggression while leveraging his own reach and striking precision.

There hadn't been a clear winner; in each round, Gustalam had landed a few hard shots that had Damon on the ground, and Damon had answered with well-thought-out moves.

But something had shifted. Each time he faced Gustalam in the simulation, he grew closer to understanding how to take control, to find that ground where he could dominate, leaving no room for Gustalam's strengths to flourish.

As he dressed, Damon's mind was already formulating his next approach. Today would be another step closer.

Today's plan was laid out, train harder and push limits. Damon looked down at the small vials in his hand, each one containing stats elixir.

These were his chance to boost his stats, a shortcut to reaching new levels of power and resilience.

He had considered waiting until he reached Thailand to use them, especially after hearing Victor's plan yesterday, but why hold back?

If he could gain an edge now, there was no point in wasting time.

Every improvement would bring him closer to unlocking the system upgrade and, with it, even more potential.

Being back home offered Damon a kind of freedom he hadn't felt in the facility during The Supreme Fighter show.

There, every move he made was watched, analyzed, part of the nature of being in the spotlight for a TV show.

He was always aware of the cameras and the demands that came with them, so he couldn't push himself too far.

Especially with the coaches.

But at Victor's gym, he could go all out. Here, there were no cameras, no producers waiting to capture every detail.

Sure, he'd still need to pace himself, but with the health elixir in his system, he could push those limits further than ever.

The people around him, Victor, his friends, they'd long assumed he had an almost unnatural resilience, recovering faster than the average fighter.

It was the perfect setup to put the elixirs to full use without raising suspicion, allowing him to train as hard as he needed to reach the next level.

Damon carefully tucked the elixirs into his bag, making sure they were secure.

Once they were out of his inventory, there was no putting them back, so he'd only taken what he needed for this training camp.

Adorned in his training clothes, he slung the bag over his shoulder and stepped out of his room.

The moment he entered the hallway, a rich, warm aroma hit him from the kitchen.

It smelled amazing, his mother was up and already making breakfast.

Damon's face softened, a bit of the morning tension easing as he made his way toward the kitchen.

When Damon saw how much happier his mother was, he smiled even more. The weight of yesterday's mood seemed to have lifted, even if only a little.

He walked into the kitchen and watched her work. The room was filled with the familiar sounds and smells of breakfast.

At first, she hadn't seen him. When she finally did, she jumped and put her hand to her chest. "Oh!" She said, "You scared me," with a look of surprise in her eyes that quickly went away.

She took a good look at him and saw his gym clothes and bag. "You're off somewhere? Damon, you just fought– don't you think you should take it easy?" Her brow arched a little, showing an array of worry and mild irritation on her face.

Damon scratched the back of his head, the slight guilt tugging at him as he met her gaze. "Morning, Mom," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "Yeah, I know… but about that… there's actually another match coming up."

He saw her expression fall immediately, her face growing tense as she searched his for a sign he might be joking. "Another match?" she echoed, her voice lowering with worry. "So soon?" Her hand twitched as if reaching for the phone. "Maybe I should call Mr. Steele—"

"Mom, it's fine," Damon interjected, lifting a hand to stop her, his voice gentle but steady. "I could've said no, really, but I'm in good shape. The last fight barely left a scratch."

He tried to reassure her, his tone softening even more. "Besides, this is a chance to rise up the ranks. If I win, it could mean a step closer to a title shot."

She paused, her lips pressed into a thin line as she considered his words.

Finally, she sighed, a reluctant but accepting nod following. "Just… promise me you'll rest after this one." Her voice was gentle but resolute, and she turned to slide a plate of breakfast toward him. "There's no need to push yourself more than you already have."

Damon's gaze softened as he reached for the plate, taking in the quiet strength of her words. "I promise, Mom," he said, feeling the weight of her concern, and with a small, reassuring smile, he picked up his fork and began to eat.

Damon hesitated, glancing up at his mother.

He hadn't planned on mentioning Thailand yet, but the words slipped out before he could stop them. "Except… that I have to go to Thailand."

She stilled, her brow creasing as she looked at him. "What was that?" she asked, her voice steady, though Damon could sense a hint of tension. She had heard him, but she wanted him to say it clearly.

He took a breath, steadying himself. "I'm… going to Thailand."

The room went silent for a moment

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly as if accepting the reality of it.

Damon could tell she was torn, she might want to tell him to stay, to try and keep him here, and he'd probably listen.

But what would be the point if he'd be giving up an opportunity that clearly mattered?

She nodded slowly, seeming to come to terms with it, and then gave him a small, understanding smile. "I see… Just promise me you'll take care of yourself." She paused, glancing at him with worry. "When are you leaving so I can help you pack?"

Damon raised an eyebrow, surprised by her response. "That's it?"

Her smile grew, softening as she held his gaze. "What? Did you expect me to stop you?"

He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, and then met her eyes with a sheepish grin. "… Yeah, I kinda did."

She laughed softly, and the sound of her real laughter warmed the room. Damon could tell she was worried, though. "You're a grown man, Damon. You can do whatever you want." She leaned closer, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently. "Just be safe and responsible. That's all I ask."

She said something that made Damon feel heavy, and he knew that he would always have her support with him, no matter how far he went.