MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Chapter 87: Chapter 87: The Journey to the LA



Damon and Aoife sat in the back of a car, watching the scenery pass by as they made their way to LA.

Aoife was very excited with this move, but Damon's demeanor didn't quite match the mood.

He had been unusually quiet since they left, his eyes fixed on the window as he stared out at the passing landscape.

Noticing her son's silence and reaching out to him, concern on her face.

She gently placed her hand over his, her touch warm and reassuring. "Everything is going to be fine," she whispered softly.

Damon's gaze shifted from the window to his mother's face, his eyes locking onto hers.

He knew she didn't understand why he was brooding, but her words still had a calming effect on him. Her voice somehow soothed his thoughts.

Aoife's hand remained on his, a steady presence that seemed to anchor him to the moment.

As his thoughts untangled, he took a deep breath and felt the tension on his body ease.

As he looked at his mother, Damon realized that he shouldn't let his brooding ruin this happy moment for them.

They were embarking on a new adventure, one that promised a fresh start and a brighter future.

His problems would have to wait.

Damon's grip on his mother's hand tightened slightly, a silent thank you for her comfort and support.

The contractual process was surprisingly smooth. The actual contract was identical to the template.

He had even asked Mr. Steele, what was the catch, but all he did was just smile and say nothing.

This stumped Damon, sign the contract and find out the catch later, or don't sign the contract and live to regret this chance. Sure, some would come, but still.

Also, he didn't believe that there was no catch. He wasn't that naive. He had been living on the streets.

Even if his life at that time wasn't that active, he had experienced that nothing was ever free.

But he still chose to sign it. He would deal with the consequences later. Maybe he was reckless, Careless, but what the heck, take risks or stay on the ground.

And that's how they ended up here, on their way to LA. Mr. Steele had mentioned that he would meet them there, but he hadn't provided any further details.

As the car cruised through the Central Valley, Damon's gaze wandered over the endless fields of crops, the sun-kissed farmland stretching out as far as the eye could see.

He couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over him.

There was something about the rolling hills and vast expanses of green that seemed to soothe his soul.

Damon's mind began to wander, imagining what it would be like to live in a place like this, surrounded by nature's beauty.

He thought about retiring in a farmland, leaving the chaos of city life behind.

It seemed peaceful, a world away from the noise and stress he was used to.

But his thoughts quickly shifted to LA, the city that was waiting for him.

He had heard stories about the parties, the music, the energy of the streets.

The ghetto, with its rough edges and tough streets, had a certain allure to it.

But Damon wasn't interested in the parties or the glamour. He wanted the fight.

The drive continued, the hours ticking by as the landscape outside the car window transformed from rolling hills to urban sprawl.

Five hours had passed, and they had finally entered the city of Los Angeles, the City of Angels.

The traffic had slowed their progress, but the excitement of their new destination was building.

As they made their way through the streets, Damon's eyes scanned the crowded roads, taking in the sights and sounds of the city.

Cars zoomed past them, a blur of color and motion.

Suddenly, a sleek, black sports car zoomed alongside their vehicle, its engine roaring as it accelerated. "Vroom!" it sped past, leaving their car behind.

The driver of their car, a man in a clean suit, smiled and continued driving. "Mr. Steele picked the perfect place for you," he said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

"It's safe, and it has access to the training centers. But I doubt you'll need them." He chuckled, and Damon's curiosity was piqued. What did he mean by training centers?

The driver continued, "We're headed to Santa Monica. It's a great location, close to the beach and the pier. You'll love it." Aoife and Damon exchanged a glance, both of them looking a bit bewildered by the new surroundings.

For Damon, this was a far cry from the streets of Stockton, where he had grown up.

He had never been to a city like LA before, and the sheer size and energy of the place was overwhelming.

As for Aoife, she had never traveled much in her life, growing up in a small town in Ireland. The hustle and bustle of LA was a shock to her system.

...

They finally came to a stop in front of a sleek, tall building that seemed to stretch up to the sky.

The exterior was a gleaming expanse of glass and steel, with a subtle sheen that caught the light.

Damon's eyes widened as he took in the sight, feeling a sense of awe wash over him.

This was a far cry from the humble motel they had stayed in back in Stockton.

He remembered what he told his mother when they first moved to the motel.

'It's not the Ritz, but we have a roof over our head... this was the damn Ritz'

As he gazed up at the building, Damon couldn't help but think that everything had changed.

This was the kind of place he had only dreamed of living in, the kind of place that seemed to whisper promises of luxury and comfort.

He felt a thrill of excitement, mixed with a little trepidation. What would their new life be like in a place like this?

A man in a black suit, Victor, was waiting for them outside, standing next to a sleek BMW.

He smiled warmly as they approached, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hello, you must be the mother of this boy here," he said, his voice low and smooth.

He placed a hand on Damon's shoulder, his grip firm but gentle.

Aoife looked a little nervous, her eyes darting between Victor and the building.

Victor's rich demeanor was a little intimidating, but he seemed to sense her unease and smiled reassuringly. "Ahh, yes, Mr. Stee-" she began, but Victor cut her off.

"None of that, call me Victor," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm sure we're the same age." He glanced at Damon, his expression warm. "How are you doing, kid? Ready to see your new home?"

He patted Damon's shoulder, his hand lingering

for a moment before he turned to lead them towards the building.

"Let's get in, shall we?" he said, striding confidently towards the entrance. Damon followed, his eyes fixed on the building's towering height.

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