MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon sat in the middle of the long table that was set aside for fighters.

The room was full of excited reporters taking notes, and cameras were watching every move.

Ronen Black, the authoritative leader of the UFA, stood at the platform.

His sharp suit and commanding presence reflected the weight of the organization.

A reporter who had just been given the mic got a nod from him.

The reporter cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly. "Damon, I have a question for you."

Damon, relaxed but attentive, nodded toward him. "Go on."

The reporter smiled briefly before continuing. "You've had a lot of hype surrounding you since The Supreme Fighter, and now, after a statement like tonight's knockout, many are saying you're already one of the most exciting prospects in the division. How do you handle that pressure, especially with your callout for a top-ten opponent?"

Damon leaned forward, adjusting the mic in front of him.

His calm demeanor didn't falter as he answered. "Pressure's part of the game. If you can't handle it, you're in the wrong sport. I've always said that proving myself is what drives me, and that doesn't change just because the stakes are higher. If anything, it motivates me to train harder, fight smarter, and make sure I'm ready for whatever comes next."

The reporter nodded, jotting down notes as Damon continued.

"As for the top ten," Damon added, a small smirk forming, "I'm not here to stay comfortable. I'm here to climb. I know what I'm capable of, and I'm ready to show the world."

The crowd murmured in approval, cameras flashing as Damon leaned back in his seat.

Another journalist raised their hand, and Ronen pointed at them. "Go ahead."

The second reporter turned their attention to Damon. "Following up on that, your opponent tonight, Mikal Tereira, has always been known for his unpredictability and high-energy style. How did you prepare for someone so dynamic, and were you surprised at how the fight played out?"

Damon shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. "Mikal's a tough guy, no doubt about it. We knew going in that he thrives on chaos, so the focus was on staying disciplined. Stick to the game plan, don't get caught up in his rhythm, and look for openings. I wasn't surprised by how the fight played out, I trained for it. That head kick wasn't luck; it was preparation meeting opportunity."

Just when Damon thought the questions were wrapping up, a reporter in the back raised his hand.

Ronen Black acknowledged him with a nod.

"Go ahead," Ronen said.

The reporter stood up, holding the microphone securely. "Damon, I have a question for you."

Damon adjusted the mic in front of him, his eyes meeting the reporter's. "Sure, go on."

The reporter cleared his throat. "Earlier tonight, after winning your match, you called out the top ten, stating you're ready to face them. Well, just moments ago, Calvin Oland took to Chirper with a response. He posted.

> 'Who's this Damon Cross kid thinking he can run with the big dogs? Undefeated doesn't mean untested. How about you try handling me before you start talking about the top ten after defeating a guy who lost 12 times. Let's see if you're as good as you think you are, kid.'

The room stirred with murmurs and the clicking of cameras, capturing Damon's reaction.

The reporter continued, "Given Calvin's bold statement, what's your response to that?"

When Damon leaned back a little, he made a small smile face.

He waited a moment before speaking, and when he did, his tone was calm but sure. "Well, Calvin's always been... vocal," he began, eliciting a few chuckles from the audience.

"I respect him as a fighter. He's experienced, he's talented, and he's made a name for himself in this division."

He paused, his gaze steady. "But if he thinks that calling me out on Chirper is going to rattle me, he's mistaken. I said I'm ready for the top ten, and I meant it. If Calvin wants to step into the cage with me, I'd be more than willing to show him what I'm about."

Ronen Black interjected with a hint of amusement. "Sounds like a challenge accepted to me."

The reporter pressed on. "So, to confirm, you'd be open to facing Calvin Oland next?"

Damon nodded without hesitation. "Absolutely. I'm here to fight the best. If Calvin wants to test me, he knows where to find me. Talking is one thing; doing is another. Let's make it happen."

There was a lot of energy in the room, with reporters typing quickly and cameras flashing. Ronen leaned into the mic and smiled in a sly way. "Well, that's something for the matchmakers to consider."

Another reporter quickly jumped in. "Damon, do you think a fight with Calvin would propel you into the top ten rankings you mentioned?"

Damon's smirk widened slightly as he picked up the mic again, his gaze steady on the reporter.

"I mean," He began, his voice steady but with a hint of amusement, "if that's what you want to think. Look, Calvin's a talented fighter, no doubt, but let's be real, he's not exactly relevant in the division right now. Starting something with me? That's just his way of trying to claw his way back into the picture."

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Saying Tereira isn't good because he's lost 12 fights? That's dumb. Calvin's lost the same amount, hasn't he? And let's not forget, he's fighting in welterweight right now. Why's he even worried about what's happening in middleweight?"

Damon leaned back in his chair, briefly placing the mic down as the room erupted with murmurs and a few stifled chuckles.

Ronen Black, who was at the stage, raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything right away. He let the situation play out.

The reporter pressed further. "So, Damon, are you saying Calvin's call-out holds no weight in your eyes?"

Damon sighed, lifting the mic again. "I'm saying it's a reach. If Calvin wants to move up and fight me, cool. But let's not pretend he's some gatekeeper for me to prove myself. He's not in the picture right now. I'm focused on real challenges, the ones that will actually push me forward in this division."