MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon sat still on the plane and looked out the window at the clouds moving below him.

There was a lot going through his mind, and the calm sky outside didn't help.

He had spoken to his mother before leaving, sharing his plans about the question he intended to ask Svetlana.

Her response had been everything he hoped for, pure happiness and approval.

That was good.

His mom's opinion mattered more than anything else.

If she was happy, then it was the right decision.

But man, his nerves were on edge.

It wasn't just about Svetlana, though that alone was enough to make his heart race.

The idea of taking such a huge step in their relationship weighed on him.

He wanted everything to be perfect.

And then there was Ireland.

He hadn't been back since the day he and his mom fled, leaving everything behind to escape the chaos of his childhood.

The plane's gentle hum filled the cabin as Damon leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment.

He wasn't sure what to expect when they landed.

Would Ireland feel like a foreign place now? behind?

It was a homecoming, in a way.

A chance to face the ghosts of his past, to see the country that shaped the first part of his life.

And maybe, just maybe, it was also a chance to close a chapter that had remained unfinished for far too long.

Svetlana had wanted to come along, eager to explore the country where Damon was born.

But Victor had spoken against it, citing the importance of Damon staying focused on the tournament.

Distractions, no matter how well-intentioned, could cost him dearly.

Damon glanced at Victor, who sat next to him on the plane, looking relaxed but always observant. "So, when are you starting the new gym?" Damon asked.

Victor turned his head slightly, a faint smile on his face. "You mean we," he corrected. "But to answer your question, I just need to lock down a good location. Once that's sorted, we'll start moving in equipment and setting up everything."

Damon nodded thoughtfully. "What about coaches?"

Victor leaned back in his seat. "That's the next step. I'll need to find suitable coaches, ones who not only know their stuff but are willing to commit long-term. Building a gym like this means stability, and I want a team that's as invested in the fighters as I am."

Damon tilted his head. "So, when do I get involved?"

Victor chuckled, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Oh, don't worry. Once the location's set, you'll have your hands full. There's a photoshoot to promote the opening, maybe some media spots. But all of that will come after. I think it'd be perfect timing to open the gym right after you win a championship, or this tournament."

Damon couldn't help but laugh. "You've got that much faith in me, huh?"

Victor smiled warmly, his voice steady. "Damon, you're stubborn as hell, and you don't listen to a damn thing your corner tells you half the time."

He paused, his tone softening. "But you know what you're doing. You've never disappointed me, and I don't expect you to start now. So yeah, I believe you'll win."

Damon smirked, shaking his head slightly as he looked back out the window.

Victor's unwavering confidence in him always felt like both a blessing and a weight, but it was the kind of weight he was proud to carry.

Victor glanced at Damon, observing him for a moment before speaking. "So, how do you feel about being back here?"

Damon kept his gaze out the window, watching the green landscapes stretch endlessly beneath the clouds.

"Nervous, a bit," he admitted. "I'm different now… not the same person who left."

Victor nodded, his tone calm but reassuring. "You are different. You're the title contender of the UFA, Damon. Ireland is a beautiful place, and now, you're a part of its story."

Damon sighed, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Can't say I know much about it, though. Never really saw most of it. Just one place."

He paused, turning to Victor. "You think my mom would ever want to move back here? To Ireland, I mean. Not just Limerick."

Victor shrugged lightly, leaning back in his seat. "Your mom's got her own story with this place. You'd have to ask her about that. What about you? Thinking of moving here?"

Damon shook his head. "No, not really. Just curious."

Victor smirked, folding his arms. "Well, I wouldn't expect a hero's welcome, if that's what you're thinking."

Damon chuckled, the tension in his chest easing slightly. "Yeah, definitely not. Maybe after I win this tournament."

Victor laughed softly, giving him a small nudge on the arm. "Now that, Damon, I wouldn't put past them."

They fell silent again.

Damon stared out the window, his gaze distant.

The sound of the plane filled the quiet, a steady rhythm that seemed to match the thoughts circling in his head.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the anticipation settle.

A part of him couldn't stop wondering who he'd face to qualify.

Irish middleweights weren't exactly a dominating presence in the global MMA scene, at least not in recent years.

Collin NcGyver had once overshadowed most of them.

A great fighter in his own right, though his recent years had seen a decline.

Still, Collin's name carried weight, even if it was more a shadow of what it used to be.

Damon couldn't help but reflect on how much of a fan he had been, a big one, at that.

The first UFA match he'd ever watched was a Collin NcGyver fight, broadcasted on an old, boxy TV with no color.

But even Damon had to admit it: Collin had been lacking for years now.

His fights... well, there were no fights.

Damon shifted in his seat, his thoughts flickering to the lightweight division.

It didn't sit well with him that Collin would be representing Ireland in lightweight.

As much as he respected the man and his legacy, it was clear Collin wasn't at his best anymore.

Still, if that was the best Ireland had to offer, Damon thought, then so be it.