MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

The day dragged on as more fighters continued to filter in.

Damon spent a good portion of his time chatting with Svetlana on WhatsDown, updating her on the events of the day and discussing his thoughts about the fight and the upcoming challenges.

And well, just banter on the texts.

The lounge, though simple, had its distractions.

A TV mounted on the wall, connected to a game console, drew the attention of a few fighters.

They were engrossed in a heated match of UFA V, the latest video game simulation of their sport.

The sounds of the game, along with the occasional cheers and groans from the players, provided a backdrop of entertainment amidst the waiting.

Despite the long wait, the atmosphere in the lounge was far from dull.

Conversations flowed easily, and there was an underlying camaraderie among the fighters.

They shared stories of past fights, debated strategies, and exchanged tips.

It was a reminder of the shared experiences that bound them together, even if they might end up as competitors.

Damon glanced around, appreciating the easygoing vibe of the place.

And it wasn't like they were starving.

Food was brought in regularly, snacks, drinks, and a variety of options to keep everyone satisfied.

The fighters chatted and relaxed, making the best of the downtime.

One of the guys, black hair that was cut in a fade, sat down next to Damon, looking around his age and appearing friendly. "Ayy bro, what you up to?"

Damon glanced away from his phone, meeting the guy's gaze. "What up!" he responded, giving him a casual dap.

"I'm Kevin," the guy said, settling in comfortably.

"Damon," he replied.

Kevin sighed, his frustration evident. " Damnn, this is too long, man. I thought it was supposed to be 16 people."

Damon chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, it's 32. But from the looks of it, only 1 is missing, so we won't wait long."

Kevin nodded thoughtfully. "That's true. Hey, who do you think will be the coaches?"

Damon paused, considering the question. He was curious, too.

The possibility of being coached by a UFA fighter he looked up to was exciting.

It was a chance to learn from someone who had made it big in the sport.

He leaned back, letting his mind wander to the potential coaches.

The idea of getting insight from top fighters, seeing their techniques up close, and learning from their experience was thrilling.

Kevin spoke, breaking Damon's train of thought. "I'm thinking, since it has to be a middleweight fighter, they won't send the champion. So maybe it'll be a fighter not ranked, or maybe a ranked fighter."

As Kevin spoke, the door to the lounge opened, and a new fighter walked in.

Damon recognized him as the last participant, making the total number of fighters 32.

Damon couldn't help but smile, relieved that the waiting was finally over.

The new fighter made his way toward the locker room, and the atmosphere in the lounge shifted to anticipation and relief.

Damon turned back to Kevin, continuing their conversation.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Damon said. "It'd be wild if they brought in a big name, but I guess it's more likely to be someone who's been around for a while but isn't at the top."

Kevin nodded. "Exactly. It's more about finding someone who can still teach a lot but isn't in the spotlight all the time."

Damon thought again and shook his head. "Nah i take it back, I think it'll be a big name. After all, this show is restarting. They need people watching."

Just then, a man in black, who had led them to the lounge earlier, walked in with a smile.

"Okay, guys, you're all here," he said.

At that moment, the locker room door opened, and the final fighter from the showers joined them.

"Just in time," the man said. "So, you're all here. All 32 of you have got a spot on The Supreme Fighter show. I'm sure you know what happens next."

They all nodded.

"Great. You have a week to prepare and say goodbye to your loved ones. The house you'll be staying in will be secluded from the world. Next week, I expect to see you all here on time. Shooting starts then. Thanks for coming today.

See you next week."

The man left the room.

One of the guys muttered, "Fuck you," though the man was already gone. He added, "I could have been doing something better than waiting here."

A few others laughed. Damon packed up his bag and got ready to head out.

As Damon made his way out, he stopped by Kevin, who was still lounging on the sofa. He reached out, giving Kevin another friendly dap.

"I'm heading out now," Damon said, trying to keep his tone casual. "I guess we'll see each other next week."

Kevin looked up, returning the gesture with a nod. "See ya," he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice, but with a friendly smile.

Damon turned and walked towards the exit. He passed through the lounge and into the room where he fought

The sound of cleaning crews busy with their work filled the space.

The cage, which had been the center of so much focus earlier, was now being wiped down and readied for the next event.

As Damon continued down through the roon, he glanced around, taking in the scene.

The lights of the arena cast a bright glare on the freshly cleaned floor, and the echoes of footsteps and faint conversations filled the space.

His gaze was drawn to a group of people near the judges' table.

Among them, Damon spotted someone he recognized from countless UFA events, Ronan Black, the CEO of the UFA.

Ronan stood out even from a distance, his commanding presence unmistakable.

Damon watched him for a moment, noting the way Ronan interacted with the staff, his demeanor calm and authoritative.

Damon couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

He was aware of how significant Ronan Black was in the world of MMA.

The CEO's role in shaping the future of fighters and the direction of the UFA was something Damon had always followed closely.

As he continued walking, he allowed himself a brief moment of self-reflection. 'That guy's going to wrap a belt around me,' he thought, feeling confidence fill him.

He chuckled quietly to himself, not caring if anyone noticed.

It was a cocky thought, but... who would stop him.