MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

When the sun rose in the morning, it lit up the house with a bright glow.

A lot of the fighters were still tired from the night before and were just sitting around inside their rooms.

There were bottles all over the floor, and the house still smelled like alcohol.

The house, which should have been lively, was now full of groans and the sound of someone stumbling around after drinking too much the night before.

Everyone was tired from drinking last night. Each fighter had a headache and was holding a water bottle while trying to figure out what happened.

Damon woke up, feeling refreshed. Unlike most of the other fighters, he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol the night before.

He was clear-headed, but the events of last night were still fresh in his mind.

He remembered one of the producers pulling him and Logan aside, telling them they had been called up to talk at the office.

Damon took a deep breath. He felt embarrassed about his reaction.

He didn't want to get kicked out, and he felt uneasy about how he'd reacted the previous night.

Maybe he'd overreacted, but it was too late now. What's done is done.

The competitors may not have known what the media was saying, but they could feel the excitement.

There was something in the air, a feeling that everything happening inside the villa was being talked about outside.

If only Damon knew how many fans he had gained from his so-called "embarrassing" moment.

Ironically, that was exactly what people loved about The Supreme Fighter.

Fans did more than just watch the fights. They were interested in the fighters' real personalities.

Not the masks and personas they used in the UFA to make matches more appealing.

Damon's raw, unfiltered reaction had made him more relatable, and it was that authenticity that had won over so many.

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He stepped into the shower, the warm water washing over him, helping to clear his mind.

He let it cascade down his body, the steady flow a contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in his head.

If he got kicked out now, all the hard work he had put into getting this far would be for nothing.

The UFA was within his reach, and he knew getting another chance like this would only be harder if he messed this up.

As the water hit his face, he let out a sigh of anger and regret.

Things with Logan had gotten bad too quickly. Usually, Damon didn't lose his cool, but last night was different.

He let the steam envelop him, trying to focus on the day ahead.

No matter what happened with the producers later, he had to keep his mind sharp.

As Damon got out of the shower and dried off, he knew he had to go into the day with a clear head.

No overthinking or interruptions. Do one thing at a time.

He took a deep breath and wrapped the towel around his waist.

When Damon was done getting ready, he looked up and saw Ivan still sleeping soundly on the top bunk.

Damon laughed quietly as he shook his head. The guy had slept through all the chaos the night before, he couldn't believe it.

Even as things got worse with Logan and the other fights, Ivan didn't seem to care at all.

Damon thought to himself with a smirk, "Must be nice to sleep that deeply."

Damon quietly left the room so as not to wake up Ivan. As he walked into the hallway, he could feel how quiet the house was.

As Damon stepped outside, the villa was eerily quiet.

It seemed the other fighters were still struggling to shake off their hangovers, likely still glued to their beds after last night's chaos.

The house was very quiet compared to the night before when there was a lot of noise and laughing.

He walked over to the parked car outside, which was already waiting for him it seems.

Without a word, he got in, settling into the backseat as the driver pulled away from the villa.

The road stretched ahead, winding back toward the city, and for the first time in a while.

As the car sped down the empty road, he stared out of the window, letting the passing scenery distract him from what awaited him back in the city.

It seemed Damon and Logan had been put in separate cars for the drive, which made perfect sense.

The last thing the producers would want was another fight breaking out in the middle of the road.

Damon leaned back, shaking his head at the thought. It was smart on their part, though.

After last night's altercation, putting them together would've been a recipe for disaster.

Damon felt his chest get a little tighter as the car pulled up in front of the sports center. The driver looked back at him, and smiled.

"Just go inside." "They'll get you where you need to go," the driver said in a cool voice.

Damon gave a quick "thank you" nod and then pushed the door open and walked out.

He stopped for a second and took a deep breath while standing on the sidewalk.

His jaw clenched slightly, nerves creeping in, but he quickly shook them off. This was something he had to face.

He straightened his shoulders and walked toward the entrance.

As the glass doors slid open, the cool air from inside hit his face.

A receptionist looked up and gave him a polite nod, as if she already knew why he was there. The welcome area was quiet.

Damon nodded back, and his face looked serious but focused.

The receptionist got up and waved for Damon to follow her. She took him down a short hall to a door that was closed shut.

She told him with a smile, "Just knock, and he'll see you." "Don't worry, you won't get kicked out."

Her smile did little to ease the knot in Damon's stomach, but he gave her a small nod of thanks.

As she turned and walked away, leaving him alone, he stood in front of the door for a brief moment, taking another deep breath.

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