MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat - Chapter 807

Chapter 807: Chapter 807: The Weight of a Son

Damon moved through training camp with the good news still fresh in his mind.

Every strike, every drill, every lap around the cage seemed lighter at first, as if the thought of what awaited him at home carried him forward. A son.

The idea kept looping in his head, impossible to shake.

It felt surreal, raising a boy who would carry his name, his blood, his traits. A miniature version of himself.

The thought made him smile at times, but it also stopped him cold.

He wanted his son to be like him, strong and resilient, but the memory of his own childhood pulled him back.

He hadn’t grown up in peace. His father’s abuse had shaped him as much as his victories, and though Damon had risen above it, he knew those scars had never left him.

He swore to himself he would never repeat that cycle.

But that promise raised another question, how would he raise his son? How do you build strength in someone without letting them suffer the way you did?

How do you prepare them for a world that shows no mercy, while keeping their heart safe?

Damon knew Ava would grow up protected, over-spoiled even, because he couldn’t bring himself to deny her anything.

His son would have the same love, the same protection, but Damon understood there would be a difference.

As the boy grew older, he couldn’t be coddled in the same way. He would have to be guided, pushed, and sometimes tested.

That was the weight already forming in Damon’s chest, the balance between being the father his own had never been, and raising a son who could one day stand on his own.

The thought lingered too long during a session.

Damon shook his head sharply, snapping himself back to the present.

Sweat rolled down his back, his arms heavy from the round, but the real battle was inside his mind.

He refocused on Victor’s voice, on the pads in front of him, burying the doubts under the rhythm of training.

The cage was his job. The fight was coming. But now, every strike was also a promise, to fight not just for his career, but for the father he wanted to become.

different directions. But as he stood and shook out his arms, he knew Victor was right.

The fight came first. Win now, and the rest of it, fatherhood, family, the future, would all fall into place.

He glanced toward the door of the cage, where Victor stood waiting, his arms folded but his eyes calm.

Damon exhaled, nodded once, and walked forward.

The doubts were still there, but he carried them with him the way he always had, with the promise that he would find a way to rise above.

The training continued, round after round.

At first Damon still felt the weight in his chest, but slowly he forced it down, shutting out everything except the cage in front of him.

The mistakes from earlier lit a fire under him. He tightened his defense, dug his hips lower, and read every level change with sharper eyes.

When his sparring partner shot in again, Damon sprawled hard, spun to the back, and locked a seatbelt grip.

He dragged the man forward, flattening him out against the mat.

This time, there was no hesitation. Damon slid an arm under the chin and secured the choke, forcing the tap.

The grappler slapped the mat twice, breathing heavy, while Damon released the hold and sat back. His chest rose and fell, but his focus was steady again.

They reset for one last go. The wrestler came in aggressive, but Damon cut the angle, countered, and snapped him to the ground with a heavy front headlock.

He transitioned clean, controlling from top until the round ended. When the bell rang, Damon stood tall, offering his hand.

His partner accepted, shaking his head with a grin, acknowledging the turnaround from earlier.

“Good work,” Damon said simply, patting the man on the back as they stepped out of the cage together.

Victor appeared at the edge, clapping his hands once. “Okay, time’s in. We’re done for today.” His voice carried the tone of finality, sharp enough to tell the rest of the room training was over.

Then his eyes locked on Damon. “Follow me to my office.”

Damon rolled his shoulders back, stretching out his arms as the sweat cooled against his skin.

He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and fell in behind Victor.

The older man walked ahead at a steady pace, his silence saying enough, that whatever conversation was waiting would matter.

Victor closed the office door behind them and motioned for Damon to take a seat.

The room was quieter than the gym outside, the hum of the air conditioning filling the silence.

Damon dropped his bag near the chair and sat, still rolling his shoulders loose. Victor stayed standing for a moment, studying him, before finally leaning back against the desk.

“Camp’s coming to an end,” Victor began. “And I have to say, you’ve handled it well. Even the weight cut, first time dropping back down in a while, and you made it look easy.”

Damon shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Guess I’m just built for it. Natural.”

Victor smirked, shaking his head. “Natural, huh? Don’t sell it too cheap. Most guys would be crawling to the scale by now.” He let out a short laugh, then his tone shifted. “But there’s more on my mind than the cut.”

Damon straightened slightly, sensing the change. “What do you mean?”

“The conference,” Victor said. “It’s going to be here soon. Media, cameras, questions. I need to know you’re in the right state of mind.”

Damon frowned, confused. “Right state of mind? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Victor pushed off the desk and began pacing slowly. “Because you and Ivan aren’t just fighters anymore. You’re rivals. The tension’s been there since the show started, and everyone’s feeding off it, fans, media, even the promotion. That’s the fight they’re selling. That’s the fight they want to see explode.” He stopped and looked at Damon directly. “And I know how competitive you are. That’s a strength, but it can also drag you into the hype. Don’t let it.”

Damon listened, his jaw set, but he didn’t interrupt.

Victor’s voice lowered, steady and deliberate. “When the cage door closes, there’s no talking, no drama, no conference. It’s just you and him. End it there. Don’t get lost in the noise before the fight. Don’t let the game outside the cage distract you from finishing the job inside it.”

The words lingered between them. Damon nodded slowly, the message sinking in.