MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Chapter 322 A Fighter's Hunger

Victor leaned back in his chair.

He looked calm, but Damon couldn't quite put his finger on it. "So, have you made up your mind?" he asked, his voice calm, almost resigned.

He stood on the other side of the desk with his arms crossed and his eyes moving to the floor. After letting out a long sigh, he finally spoke. "I want to fight."

Victor didn't answer right away. He only let out a sigh, and his shoulders sagged a little.

The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the lights above.

"I see," Victor finally said, his voice low. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and waved his hand in a gesture that felt dismissive.

Damon glanced up and caught the look on Victor's face, disappointment, not in a harsh or angry way, but in the way someone feels when they wish things could be different.

Victor nodded slowly, as if coming to terms with the decision himself. "Okay," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Do you at least want to know your opponent?"

Damon shook his head, a faint, almost guilty smile crossing his lips. "I already looked it up. I saw who pulled out yesterday."

Victor raised an eyebrow, surprised but impressed. "At least you made an informed decision," he said. "Alright. I'll call the UFA and let them know you're in. I'll also try to negotiate for more money. Short-notice fights deserve better pay."

"Thank you," Damon said softly. "For not stopping me."

Victor's lips curled into a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I warned you. You're making your bed, Damon. But..." he paused, leaning forward slightly, his expression softening. "I also believe in you. I know you can do this."

Damon straightened, his chest lifting at Victor's words.

Victor's smile widened slightly, a flicker of his usual confidence returning. "The hunger you have? I recognize it. I had it once. And as someone I know you look up to, it's my job to fuel that fire, not extinguish it."

Damon nodded, his resolve solidifying. "I won't let you down."

With his bag over his shoulder, Damon walked down the street. His head was full of plans for the future.

A nice condo or apartment, that was the dream. Something he could call his own, a place where he could feel settled.

And then there was the car.

After countless rides in Victor's and Svetlana's sleek BMWs, it was hard not to want something just as nice.

But Damon knew better than to blow all his money on luxury.

He needed to find a balance, something nice but not over the top. Something that wouldn't leave him financially strained.

As he mulled it over, a heavier thought crept into his mind.

If he moved into his own place, he'd have to talk to his mom about it. Just the idea made his chest feel heavy.

She had been there through everything, every hardship.

Growing up, his mom wasn't just his parent; she was his only friend.

Between the chaos at home and their constant struggles, there was no chance for that, as he lost most of his "friends" when the home troubles started.

His mom was his rock, his constant. The thought of leaving her behind, even if it was to pursue his own independence, made him feel an overwhelming guilt.

What if she felt abandoned? What if she thought he didn't need her anymore?

Damon stopped walking for a moment, taking a deep breath.

He needed to figure this out.