MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat - Chapter 794

Chapter 794: Chapter 794: Paper Wins

The clip ended, the screen freezing on Blake’s smug grin.

Damon tilted his head, eyes narrowing for a moment before he leaned back in his chair.

The guy looked familiar, but not important enough to stick in his memory.

He shook his head and let out a small chuckle. It wasn’t deep. Not worth his time. If he answered every call-out from people outside MMA, he’d be fighting non-stop.

He sighed, reaching for his water, mind rolling through what he already knew. Boxing call-outs were nothing new.

MMA fighters had been stepping into the ring for years, chasing the fast bag, and most of them ended up sleeping on the canvas. Every time, the pattern repeated.

There was even a running theory that it was all business.

That some of those fights were softened, or at least tilted, because the outcome worked for everyone involved.

The MMA fighter cashed a massive check, took no lasting hit to their reputation, and the boxer walked away with their stock skyrocketed.

It made sense when you looked closely. Even after getting knocked out in a boxing ring, an MMA fighter could shrug it off.

Fans always said the same thing: “If that was in an octagon, it’d be different.” And they were right.

The debate gave the fighter cover. Their image stayed intact, and their career in MMA carried on untouched.

Meanwhile, the boxer gained the shine. Beating a big MMA name, even outside their discipline, stacked hype on their record and sold the image of dominance. Win-win.

The only real risk was for the undefeated MMA fighters who stepped into the boxing world.

A loss followed them differently. But even then, the money was so outrageous, most of them decided it was worth it.

Damon shook his head again, the corner of his mouth pulling into a faint smirk. “Paper wins,” he muttered under his breath.

This wasn’t new. It was just another clip.

Damon would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious.

He had never done a straight boxing match before.

Sure, he sparred plenty in camp, drilled boxing rounds, sharpened hands the way every MMA fighter did, but an actual sanctioned boxing fight? That was something different.

In the system, his proficiency across most disciplines sat at the top, five stars. Boxing was no exception.

He knew his hands were dangerous, sharper than most specialists he’d trained with.

The thought of testing them in a pure boxing environment was tempting, even if only in the back of his mind.

But Damon wasn’t chasing money. He never had been. The bags and headlines didn’t drive him, and stepping into boxing just for a payday felt hollow. He didn’t have a reason to cross over. Not yet.

The only way he’d ever take a boxing match was if it truly interested him, if the challenge felt real, or if it became personal. And if he did it, it wouldn’t be some circus exhibition.

He’d want it to be a real fight, one that meant something. Otherwise, there was nothing in it for him.

He leaned back, shaking his head lightly. It was curiosity, nothing more. For now.

“So what do you think?” Victor asked right away. “This isn’t pressure, just a suggestion. Since there’s not much out there for you right now, maybe try a boxing match.”

“It’s enticing,” Damon admitted, “but I’ll stay out of the boxing business for now. Just tell them no on the callout.”

Victor chuckled. “Why do I feel like we’ll be coming back to this moment?”

Damon smirked. “You might be right.”

Victor shifted the subject, his tone softening. “So how are you and Svetlana doing? Marriage treating you well so far?”

Damon laughed. “It’s been great. I haven’t been home in a while, so I can’t wait to get out of here and spend time with them.”

“That’s good,” Victor said warmly. “That’s real good. Alright, Damon, I’ll let you rest. I want to start organizing for your camp soon, so get your head ready. Goodnight, son.”

“Goodnight.” Damon hung up, setting the phone down, the weight of both family and fighting resting evenly on his shoulders.

Damon opened his phone and tapped the video call. It rang once before Svetlana answered.

“Hey, baby,” she said, smiling into the camera.

A tiny face popped into view beside her. Ava leaned in close, mimicking her mother with a cheerful, “Hey, baby!” Her voice was high and playful, eyes wide with mischief.

Damon laughed immediately. “Oh, come on, she stole your line.”

Svetlana shook her head and shifted the phone, revealing their daughter bouncing on the bed. Damon spotted the culprit right away, Ava’s little sneakers planted firmly on the blanket.

“Ava,” Svetlana said in that firm-but-gentle tone, pointing at her feet. “No shoes on the bed. Off, now.”

Ava pouted, dragging her heels against the blanket like she was considering a standoff, then kicked them off with a dramatic flop, giggling.

Damon chuckled, shaking his head. “Already giving you attitude, huh? She’s two and thinks she’s the boss.”

“She gets it from you,” Svetlana teased, rolling her eyes but smiling.

Damon leaned back against the headboard of his hotel bed, soaking in the sight of them. Just for a moment, the whole fight world and the chaos of the show felt distant.

Damon leaned closer to the screen, his grin softening. “So, how are you feeling? Any issues today?”

Svetlana brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Tired, but nothing unusual. The morning sickness is easing up, finally. Just the usual back pain.”

Before Damon could respond, Ava shoved her little face right up to the camera, practically covering the screen with her nose. “Daddy, look! Look!” she shouted, holding up a stuffed bunny by the ear.

Damon chuckled, tilting the phone slightly. “I see it, munchkin. Poor bunny looks like he’s in a headlock.”

Ava giggled, squeezing it tighter, then tried to climb back onto the bed, nearly tipping the phone out of Svetlana’s hands.

“Careful, Ava,” Svetlana said firmly, pulling her back down. “See what I mean?” she added, looking back at Damon with a tired smile. “She doesn’t slow down. Ever.”

Damon smirked, then his voice softened again. “I’ll be home soon. I want to be there with you. You shouldn’t be dealing with all this alone, especially with Ava bouncing around like a tornado.”

Svetlana gave him a look, warm, but also stubborn. “We’re fine. You just focus on finishing strong. We’ll handle this side.”

Ava popped her head back in again, tugging on her mother’s arm. “Daddy, come home now!” she demanded, her voice high and insistent.