MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat-Chapter 616: Disappointment

Damon had designed a schedule that allowed him to train hard while still being present with his family.

The balance wasn't perfect, but it worked. Mornings were reserved for breakfast and quiet time with Ava and Svetlana.

Afternoons were dedicated to film study, drilling, and conditioning. Evenings shifted depending on the session, some nights were light, others brutal.

But no matter what, Damon made time to be home before Ava fell asleep.

The opponent ahead of him, Ivan, wasn't someone he could prepare for casually.

The deeper he dove into film, the more he respected what he saw. Ivan wasn't flashy. He didn't carry himself like a showman.

But his fights told a different story. His grappling was suffocating. Every transition he made was calculated.

There was no wasted motion, no frantic scrambling, just methodical progression and positional control. He didn't chase finishes recklessly.

He earned them. Damon's team had broken down every major exchange, from his early fights to the recent ones, especially the bout against PDD.

There was very little to exploit.

Even when Damon studied the close decisions, Ivan didn't show patterns of fatigue or mental breaks.

He stayed calm even when hurt. When taken down, he recovered. When pressured, he adjusted.

Some of his entries were unremarkable, but he rarely missed. When he got on top, it was hard to get him off.

Damon had seen elite grapplers before. But Ivan was different. He didn't rely on strength or wild scrambles.

He used leverage, patience, and timing. tools that didn't fade with fatigue.

Watching him work, Damon understood why people underestimated Ivan, and also why those same people didn't last long in the cage with him.

What stood out most wasn't what Ivan did. It was what he avoided.

He didn't overextend. He didn't chase counters. He didn't fall for baits.

Damon's team, after hours of slow-motion rewinds and whiteboard analysis, found no obvious tendencies to expose.

They offered theories, possible angles, and points of pressure, but nothing concrete.

It was rare for Damon to prepare this long and come away without at least a few holes to poke through.

That only confirmed what Damon already suspected.

This wasn't a routine defense.

Damon understood that better than most. He had no illusions about walking through this fight. There were no shortcuts ahead.

If he wanted to win, he would have to break someone who didn't give many chances to be broken.

And that was exactly the kind of fight he wanted.

Damon arrived at the gym that afternoon after Victor had asked him to stop by.

The request had been short and direct, but the tone was enough to tell him this wasn't just about checking in. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

It wasn't like Victor to summon him unless there was something worth sitting down for.

He walked past the cages, the bags, and the familiar sounds of fighters going through their drills. A few of the younger guys nodded at him, but he didn't stop.

Upstairs, the office door was already open. Victor was inside, sitting behind the desk, eyes sharp but unreadable. Whatever the UFA had shared, it clearly was important.

Damon stepped into the office, nodding as he closed the door behind him.

"Yo," he greeted casually, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Victor. "Sounded important. What's up?"

Victor leaned back in his seat, arms folded, expression calm but direct.

"They called me this morning. UFA," he said. "They've started informing the camps. Figured I'd tell you before you heard it online."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Alright... what?"

Victor exhaled through his nose. "Ivan's out. Got injured in training. Nothing major, but bad enough to pull him."

Damon blinked, leaned back slightly in his chair, and scratched his jaw. "Huh."

"Yeah," Victor said. "Apparently it's legit. Sprained knee, slight tear, medical suspension. He won't make it to camp in time."

Damon sat with that for a moment, thinking. "So who's in?"

Victor paused. "They said they were scrambling. Few names floated... but they already made a call."

Damon tilted his head. "Okay. Who?"

Victor smirked slightly, then spoke with dry amusement. "Shane Brickland."

Damon stared at him, then let out a laugh, short and almost disbelieving. "You're joking."

"No," Victor said. "He took the offer the second they sent it. They're working on contracts now."

Damon leaned back and shook his head, still smiling. "Of course he did."

Victor chuckled as he stood up. "What? You want to cancel the fight now? I'm sure the UFA would be pissed if you dropped out. You could just move up and skip all this."

Damon waved his hand, shaking his head. "Meeeh, nah. I'll take it. Might as well shut his mouth already. Should be fun."

Victor gave a half-smile and nodded. "Alright then. I'll send back the agreement today, and I'll get you some of Shane's latest tape."

Damon stood too, stretching his shoulders. "Cool. Let's get it done."

Victor grabbed his phone from the desk. "Better enter full camp tomorrow. You know how he fights—sloppy but dangerous when he throws with confidence."

Damon grinned. "Yeah. Let's remind him why he never belonged in the cage with me."

Damon sat quietly in the chair, watching Victor speak to the UFA on the phone. He wasn't listening to the words anymore—just letting the tone fill the background as he fell into his own thoughts.

Ivan's injury sat in his chest like a weight. It wasn't frustration, exactly. Just disappointment.

He had genuinely looked forward to that fight.

Ivan was a challenge, someone who brought a real threat, someone who would've made him dig deep and prove something again.

Damon didn't like leaving divisions unfinished, and now the fight he wanted most had slipped away because of an injury.

He shook his head slowly, lips pressing into a line.

Now he was stuck with Shane.

In his own words—fighting a bum.

Sure, he'd play it cool. Smile for the cameras. Sell the match. But truthfully, this wasn't the fight that motivated him.

Shane Brickland was loud. Annoying. Persistent. And Damon already knew what would happen in the cage.

Still… at least he'd get to shut that mouth once and for all. That thought gave him a little satisfaction.

Victor ended the call and glanced at him, but Damon didn't say anything yet.

He just leaned back and sighed through his nose.

Whatever.

He'd show up. He'd fight. And when it was done, Shane Brickland's voice would finally go silent.