MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

One hard training practice after another made Damon's days in Thailand blur together.

When he got here he had planned to walk around the busy city streets, visit the well-known temples, and maybe even try some of the local treats he had heard so much about.

But as the weeks went by, he forgot about all of that.

The beautiful scenery and active culture outside the gym were just background noise for his unwavering drive to get better.

It was just him, sweating, hurting, and growing in this small, modest gym in the middle of nature.

He got up every morning before the sun rose, and even though his body hurt.

The humid air stuck to his skin as he ran through the misty paths.

Running was something Beth Kru Somchai and Wichan preached before training Muay Thai.

From there, it was grueling drills under Kru Wichan's watchful eye.

Kicks against the bamboo trees until his shins were numb, endless bag work, clinching drills that left his arms and shoulders burning.

There were no distractions, no thoughts of sightseeing or taking breaks

Of course, Damon hadn't been doing nothing in the fighting scene during those months.

Come on, it's Damon Cross.

In just the last four months, Damon had fought and won three more matches, maintaining his momentum and solidifying his reputation as a rising star.

His record now stood at an impressive 6-0, each win showcasing his growth as a fighter and his ability to adapt under pressure.

He had only paused his streak now because of the news he'd received, confirmation of his upcoming match.

In just three months, he would be making his pay-per-view debut, opening up the card as part of the prelims.

It was a milestone, another step up the ladder toward greatness.

Damon stared at his reflection, the steam from the shower still lingering in the air, slightly fogging up the edges of the mirror.

He wiped it with his hand, giving himself a clearer view.

He looked at his face for a long time, looking at every feature.

The rough beard he'd grown over the past few months was not smooth, but it was thick enough to stand out.

As he turned his head to the side, he looked at his jawline, which stood out more now that he had lost weight and built strength through hard training.

"Should I cut it off?" he muttered to himself, running a hand over the stubble. "Or maybe just trim it a little…"

His hand hovered over his chin for a moment before he let out a low chuckle. The beard was a new look for him.

It made him look older and rougher, like the hard trip he had been on in Thailand.

He stepped back slightly, tilting his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I don't look half bad," he said under his breath.

Damon shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Meh," he muttered, running his hand over the scruffy beard.

Turning his face slightly, he inspected the uneven patches and thickness.

It made him look older, more rugged, but not quite the image he wanted right now. "Yeah, this isn't working," he decided with a smirk.

Reaching for the trimmer, Damon adjusted the settings.

He wasn't ready to get rid of everything, though.

After a moment's thought, he decided to keep the mustache.

Something about the clean look of a trimmed mustache appealed to him, it was sharp, disciplined, and carried a bit of character.

The trimmer buzzed softly as he carefully removed the beard, leaving only the mustache.

He leaned closer to the mirror, making sure the edges were clean and even. With a satisfied nod, he wiped away the loose hair and splashed water on his face.

Damon stepped back and admired his new look.

The mustache gave him a slightly different vibe, mature but with a bit of flair. "Not bad," he said, running a finger across it and grinning.

After cleaning up the sink, he threw on a fresh shirt and headed out.

He still needed to talk to Wichan, and something told him that whatever the coach wanted to discuss was going to be significant.

Damon leaned closer to the mirror, smirking as he took one last look at his reflection.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as he rubbed his freshly trimmed mustache with his finger.

"Very nice," he muttered, his smirk growing into a grin before chuckling softly. "Hah, yeah, this'll do."

Stepping back, he gave himself a playful nod of approval before turning to grab his towel.

As he walked to go to Wichan, he opened his system as always after training. Today, he had done more than enough.

Damon froze mid-step, his towel draped over his shoulder as the system's notification echoed in his mind.

DING!!

The words on the interface glowed in front of him, clear and undeniable:

[Congratulations, host, for becoming an all-rounded A-rank Fighter.]

[Host has mastered his body. The only way to improve now is to learn to harness and find your own comfort where you can unleash that potential under your flesh and muscles.]

[With all stats having reached A-rank, System Upgrade activated.]

[System turning off.]

[System offline.]

Damon blinked, staring at the words, trying to process what had just happened. His hand hovered near his face, his smirk replaced by a blank expression.

"What the fuck," he muttered, his voice low and incredulous.

He tapped the air, trying to reopen the system, but nothing happened.

No interface popped up, no notifications appeared.

The once-familiar glow that had been his silent companion was gone. It was like staring into a blank void.

He ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. "It just… shut off? Upgrade?" His voice grew louder as frustration bubbled up.

The system was his lifeline, his edge, the thing that had helped him carve his path in the unforgiving world of fighting.

And now, without warning, it was gone, temporarily.

So he was overreacting.

"Okay… calm down," he muttered to himself, pacing the room. His chest rose and fell with each steadying breath.

"It's just an upgrade," he reasoned, though the uncertainty gnawed at him. "It'll come back... right?"

But deep down, the silence left a void he wasn't sure how to fill. For the first time in years, Damon felt… alone in his journey.

But... while that feeling remained, he knew that if he had to fight without the system, he would still do it.