MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon leaned back in the car seat, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke to Joey, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

"Still no sign of your brother?" he asked, already guessing the answer.

Joey's sigh on the other end of the line was heavy. "Yeah, nothing. I don't know, man. This has never happened before. I'm seriously thinking of heading to LA to check out that place he mentioned."

Damon went quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening. Finally, he said, "I'll come with you. We can look for him together."

Joey's protest was immediate. "Come on, man, you've got a match coming up. You can't just miss that."

Damon's tone turned resolute. "Bro, we'll go after. I'm not letting you do this alone."

Joey fell silent, the weight of Damon's words settling over him. Finally, he sighed again, though this time it was more subdued. "Alright. Just… don't worry too much about it now, okay? Focus on what you've got to do."

The car Damon was in came to a stop, and the driver turned to let him know they had arrived.

"Joey, I gotta go. Need to attend this press conference," Damon said, glancing out the window. "But listen to me, don't go to LA alone. Wait for me."

Joey hesitated but eventually relented. "Fine. I won't. Just… let's talk later."

"Later," Damon confirmed, ending the call and sliding his phone into his pocket.

As he stepped out of the car, the buzz of the press conference ahead pulled his focus back to the present. But in the back of his mind, the unease about Joey's brother lingered, casting a shadow over his thoughts.

He had been missing for a while.

Missing? They didn't even know if he was officially missing, but it felt that way.

Even in the UFA, there had been no sign of him. No scheduled fights, no appearances, nothing. It was as if he had simply vanished.

While Damon had never met Joey's brother personally, the way Joey talked about him made it clear that this wasn't normal.

Joey had always described him as someone dependable, someone who wouldn't just disappear, especially not after everything the two of them had been through together.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts of Joey's brother aside. He couldn't afford to get too distracted now.

The reason he was here? That was obvious.

Donald Whittier had accepted his challenge a few days ago.

Unlike many of his previous fights, where Damon had been labeled the underdog, the narrative was different this time.

The majority of fans and analysts believed he would run through Whittier. Damon had the momentum, an undefeated record, and a string of dominant performances.

Donald, on the other hand, was coming off a tough loss to DPP, a fight that had dented his standing in the division.

For many, this fight was less about whether Damon could win and more about how quickly he could do it.

But Damon didn't let the chatter get to him. Momentum or not, he knew better than to underestimate Whittier. A fighter with his level of experience and grit could never be counted out.

But again, even though Damon didn't underestimate Whittier, he couldn't deny the surge of confidence he felt seeing the fans siding with him this time.

He had always believed in himself, always. It was a cornerstone of his mentality as a fighter. But having the majority of the crowd and analysts backing him? That felt amazing.

It was a different kind of validation, one that showed just how far he'd come in his career.

Still, Damon wasn't naive.

He knew that where there was overwhelming support, there was also the looming possibility of an upset.

Fights like this could swing in unexpected ways, and all it took was one mistake for things to go sideways.

But Damon didn't let those thoughts linger.

He had never entertained the idea of losing before, and he wasn't going to start now.

Damon arrived at the backstage area, his mind briefly drifting to the financial side of the sport, a topic he rarely thought about but couldn't ignore.

Victor had visited the UFA office a few weeks ago, negotiating Damon's contract after a short extension.

From what Damon had heard, top-five fighters earned big, and Victor had managed to secure an incredible deal.

And seeing was believing.

Fighters ranked in the top five were pulling in $150,000 per fight, half just for showing up, and the other half for winning.

Not to mention the bonus $25,000 for wearing the sponsored attire in the ring, a significant jump from the previous $8,000.

Damon wasn't involved in the negotiations himself, but hearing the results had given him a new level of respect for Victor's business acumen. The man knew how to fight for his fighter, both in and out of the cage.

The stakes were higher now. If Damon could win his next two fights, he'd become eligible for a title shot. That thought alone added an extra layer of focus to his already unshakable resolve.

That thought was enough to light a fire in Damon as he began mentally preparing for the press conference and the challenges ahead.

Damon rarely thought about the money, let alone talked about it. It was a subject he avoided, not because he wasn't grateful, but because it felt surreal.

The numbers were just too good, almost absurd, for someone who had grown up with nothing.

He hadn't even looked at his bank balance since his last fight, and for good reason.

That bout had been fought under his newly negotiated contract, which meant $150,000 for showing up and another $150,000 for the win, a cool $300,000 just for stepping into the cage and walking out victorious.

And then, there was the real kicker. Multiply that by 10 for sponsorships, incentives, and other deals tied to his rising fame, and the total sum became staggering.

Add to that the $50,000 performance bonus for his devastating standing choke finish, and it was almost unbelievable.

For someone who once struggled to scrape by, the idea of this kind of money felt unreal. Damon had told himself he wouldn't let it change him, and so far, it hadn't.

He didn't live extravagantly.

He took care of his mother, Svetlana, who didn't even need taking care of when it came to the money side, she was making her own bag.

The money wasn't the goal, it never had been.

But saying that would be lying.

Money had always been the goal, to feed, to make sure he and his mother slept with a full stomach.

It's just that the money got so much, it stopped being the goal. Explore stories at empire