MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon's teammates finally snapped out of their shock, rushing into the cage to celebrate with him.

Victor led the charge, his face beaming with pride. "That's what I'm talking about!" he shouted, pulling Damon into a tight hug.

For Victor, moments like these weren't just about the win they were about watching the growth of someone he had mentored from the start.

The rest of the team followed suit, wrapping Damon in a collective embrace. It felt like a championship victory with the way they were celebrating.

Damon couldn't help but laugh as they lifted him briefly off the ground, patting his back and shouting praises.

"You're a monster, Cross!" one of them yelled.

"Unbelievable, man. That move… insane!" another chimed in.

Victor, always the composed coach, let his emotions shine for once. "You've earned every bit of this, kid. That was one for the history books."

The fans understood the celebration, cheering louder in solidarity.

They felt the same way, fighters like Damon Cross deserved to be celebrated while they were still performing at their peak.

As the celebration unfolded, fans who couldn't contain their excitement flooded Chiper with posts about Damon's jaw-dropping performance.

Even before the event was over, highlights and reactions were already trending.

Damon noticed the buzz but stayed focused, a subtle smile gracing his face as the energy of the moment washed over him.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself as Deuce Baffer, the voice of the octagon, made his way to the center of the cage.

Damon and Donald stood side by side, their wrists firmly held by the referee.

Both fighters looked composed, their expressions calm, their breathing steady, clear signs that they were far from exhausted.

The fact that they could have gone on for much longer showed how conditioned and skilled they were.

Deuce Baffer stepped forward, microphone in hand, his booming voice cutting through the noise of the roaring crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, referee Hank Binn has called a stop to this contest at 3 minutes, 42 seconds of Round 2, declaring the winner by submission…"

Deuce paused, turning slightly toward Damon.

"Andddd still Undefeated

... DAMOOON CROSSSSSSS!!!!"

The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers as the referee raised Damon's hand.

Damon offered a small smile and nodding to the crowd as chants of his name filled the arena.

Donald Whittier stepped forward, clapping for Damon in a show of sportsmanship, while Damon's team cheered proudly behind him.

As the referee and Deuce Baffer exited the cage, leaving the fighters to their moment, Damon and Donald met in the middle.

They exchanged a firm handshake, respect etched into their expressions.

Donald smiled, his tone genuine. "Great fight, Damon. You've got a great future ahead of you, champ."

Damon returned the smile, nodding. "Thank you, that means a lot coming from you. You put up one hell of a fight."

The two continued talking for a while, their conversation filled with mutual respect and a shared appreciation for the art of fighting.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the cage, Damon's team was giddy with excitement.

One of the younger fighters on the team, around Damon's age, leaned toward another teammate, his eyes wide with admiration. "Did you see that? That wasn't a win, that was crazy."

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Another teammate, clearly still in awe, nodded quickly. "He makes it look so easy, but we all know it's not. I don't even know how he comes up with this stuff."

Next to Damon's team, Victor stood silently, his arms crossed as he watched Damon chatting with Donald in the center of the cage.

He turned to look at the group of fighters beside him, their energy contagious.

As they thought about Damon's performance, they were very excited and their voices were low but full of awe.

Four of them were young, Damon's age or even younger, and their expressions were filled with admiration.

Victor observed the way their eyes lit up, the way they leaned toward one another, sharing their thoughts about the fight.

For Victor, it was a moment that went beyond just Damon's win.

Watching these young fighters, he could see how Damon's success had sparked something in them.

It wasn't envy or jealousy, emotions he'd often seen in others when peers surpassed expectations.

No, this was pure admiration, a drive to rise to the same level.

Victor nodded to himself.

He shifted his gaze back to Damon, who was still exchanging words with Donald, both fighters smiling.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Damon was unaware of the impact he was making on those around him, but Victor wasn't. He saw it clearly.

And seeing that impact, Victor realized he had been going about things all wrong.

He had to admit, much of his attention had been focused on Damon.

It wasn't intentional neglect, but fighters like Edward and others in the gym hadn't received the same level of guidance and involvement from him.

He didn't accompany them to their fights as often, nor had he invested the same energy into their growth.

Victor sighed, a pang of guilt gnawing at him.

The truth was, he had stopped seeing the gym as a real gym after stepping away from his own career.

It had become more of a side project, a place where fighters could train while he handled other responsibilities.

He hadn't thought of himself as a real coach in years.

That was, of course, until Damon came along.

Damon reignited something in him, a spark he thought he'd lost forever.

The young fighter's determination, skill, and raw potential had drawn Victor back into the fold, making him feel like he had a purpose again.

But in focusing so heavily on Damon, he'd let other fighters, like Edward, slip through the cracks.

Victor looked at the group of young fighters, their admiration for Damon shining brightly.

It wasn't just about Damon anymore.

These fighters, this gym, they deserved more.

They needed a coach who could guide all of them, not just one standout.

He nodded to himself, a resolve forming in his mind.

It was time to step up, not just as Damon's mentor but as a true leader for the entire team.

The gym wasn't just a stepping stone for him anymore, it was a foundation, and he was going to treat it as such.