MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon knocked on the door and waited, hearing a confident voice from inside.

"Get in," the voice called.

Taking another deep breath, Damon steadied himself and opened the door.

He had been doing a lot of that today, deep breaths. A small shake of the head helped him remember to keep his mind on the task at hand.

When he walked into the office, he saw a bald man in a black shirt talking to someone else.

The man turned his attention to Damon.

Damon knew exactly who he was looking at, the CEO of UFA, Ronan Black.

Damon stepped forward and greeted Ronan politely.

He had seen enough videos of the UFA boss to know that while Ronan Black could be laid-back, his no-nonsense attitude was famous.

Damon knew he was walking a fine line and couldn't afford to mess it up. This wasn't fun for him.

So, he kept his tone respectful.

Ronan leaned back in his chair and looked over Damon quickly. His face was blank. "Oh, you're here. He pointed to the chair in front of him and said, "Kid, sit down."

Damon sat quietly.

"So, look," Ronan started, leaning forward, his hands clasped on the desk, "I called you in separately because I don't want a fucking fight in the office. You know what I mean? I've already dealt with enough bullshit this morning."

He rubbed his bald head, clearly irritated. "We run a fucking business here, not a high school playground. You get that, right?"

Damon nodded quickly, staying silent.

Ronan's voice hardened. "This shit can't fly, man. I get it, people talk, tempers flare, but you gotta handle that shit better. If you keep snapping like that, you're gonna fuck up your whole career before it even starts. I've seen it before, guys with all the talent in the world, and they piss it away because they can't keep their head straight."

He paused, staring Damon down. "I don't give a shit what happened last night. You spear a dude through a table on this show, it's great TV, sure. But you think that's what gets you to the UFA? Fuck no. You wanna be a hothead, go do that somewhere else.

You wanna be a pro? Get your shit together."

Ronan leaned back again, crossing his arms. "Look, you've got potential, kid. But don't make me regret letting you stay. You're not out yet, but if you pull another stunt like that, I'll personally drag your ass out of the house myself. Understand?"

Damon swallowed, then nodded. "Yes, sir. Understood."

Ronan shook his head, half-smiling. "Good. Now, get the fuck outta here before I change my mind."

Damon nodded and left the room. Ronan leaned back in his chair and looked back at the person he had been talking to earlier. He had a sly grin on his face.

"Looks like I've got my first match-up," Ronan said, rubbing his hands together. "This shit's gonna bring viewers in like crazy with how that clip is trending."

The guy glanced toward the door Damon had just walked through. "You think he's got a shot at winning the whole thing?"

Ronan shook his head, and his smile got a little smaller. "No, I don't see it. He's going to tire out quickly. I believe that Kofi kid has what it takes. Not only does he have the skills, but he also has the focus."

The guy nodded, considering Ronan's words. "Yeah, Kofi's a beast. It'll be interesting to see how it plays out."

"Either way, this season's gonna be fucking wild."

.

.

.

As Damon left the office, his tense expression finally relaxed, and a small smile crept across his face.

Relief washed over him, he was still in the competition. He'd dodged a bullet, and that was something to be thankful for.

He told himself, "Never again." He didn't want to be in this situation where everything he had worked for was at risk.

The stakes were too high, and Damon knew he had to keep his cool if he wanted to make it to the top.

He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and ready to get back to the house.

He was more determined than ever to keep his mind on the bigger picture.

The receptionist smiled at Damon as he walked by, indicating that she was curious. She asked with a slight lean, "So, how'd it go?"

Damon smiled back, his relief still fresh. "Just like you said, thank you," he replied.

She nodded, her smile widening. "Glad to hear that. Just to ask you this..." She paused, biting her lip slightly before continuing, her voice dropping a little. "Can I get your number? I know you don't have your phone with you, but when the show's over, I'll give you a call." Her eyes lingered on him, the look tempting and playful.

Damon blinked, caught off guard. He chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck.

Just as Damon was about to respond, either to reject or accept the receptionist's tempting offer, the door to the lobby swung open.

His attention immediately shifted toward the entrance.

He turned to see who it was and, when his eyes landed on Logan, his heart burned with frustration.

There was a wave of anger in him that made him want to break Logan's smug face, but Damon clenched his hands and held back, forcing himself to stay calm.

With a smile on his face, Logan walked in with a sense of confidence, like nothing had happened.

Damon didn't even get a look from him. Logan looked straight at the receptionist instead, who quickly turned her attention from Damon to Logan.

The receptionist turned around, smiled at Logan, and led him to Ronan's office right away.

Damon shook his head and let out a sharp breath. Because he had been calm, he avoided another fight.

Following one last look at the front desk worker and Logan leaving to the office, Damon turned away, left the building, and stepped outside into the fresh air.

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