MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

He was finally able to sit down by himself, away from all the noise in the world. He hadn't had a moment with just himself and his thoughts in weeks.

In the quiet of his hotel room, he opened his system, the familiar interface glowing faintly in front of him.

He hadn't used it much lately. Sure, the simulations were still invaluable, and the occasional feature came in handy, but the quests?

They had become almost... mundane. Points were always the reward, points he used to buy elixirs or minor boosts.

Useful, yes, but not life-changing anymore.

It had been such an important part of his journey, especially in the beginning.

He went to heights he never thought possible because of it. It gave him the edge to beat impossible odds.

Without it, he wouldn't be here, he knew that much. But now? Now it felt like an old tool, something that had outgrown its purpose.

He scrolled through the quests. Win a fight, earn points.

Train for Ismael Desayen, earn points. It wasn't that they were unimportant, far from it. But they didn't carry the same weight they once did.

They didn't feel essential anymore, not like they had when he was clawing his way up the ranks.

Still, Damon couldn't bring himself to dismiss it.

The system had brought him here, shaped him into the fighter he was.

Even if it was fading into the background, it was a part of his story, a part he couldn't and wouldn't ignore.

Damon scrolled through the system, his fingers lingering over the quests tab.

He suddenly remembered the notification that had popped up right after Ireland qualified for the tournament.

He hadn't had a chance to check it out then.

Curious, he opened the notification.

The familiar blue panel appeared, displaying a large message in bold text:

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[System Notification]

Congratulations on qualifying for the World MMA Tournament. A quest chain will now be provided.

To earn the rewards, complete all the quests in the chain and the main quest: Winning the Tournament.

The chain quest and the main quest have separate rewards.

Complete the quests to unlock and claim the rewards.

---@@novelbin@@

Damon leaned back, reading the message twice. A quest chain. That wasn't something he'd seen before.

Usually, the system gave individual quests with clear rewards, but this... this sounded more layered, more involved.

Sure the TSF one was a chain as well, but they had rewards in every task.

"Separate rewards, huh?" he muttered to himself. The stakes were already high with the tournament, but now there was this added layer of incentive.

It wasn't the same thrill he used to feel when unlocking a quest in the past, but he couldn't deny a flicker of curiosity.

What kind of rewards could be waiting for him at the end of this chain?

With a deep breath, Damon closed the panel and resolved to focus on the fight ahead.

Whatever the rewards were, they'd have to wait, just like everything else. Right now, his only goal was victory.

The long-awaited announcement finally arrived.

After months of anticipation, it was time for the world to know who had made it through the qualifiers and what lay ahead.

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The qualifiers were over. The groundwork had been laid. Now, the tournament itself was ready to begin.

The first piece of information released was a list of the countries that had qualified for the tournament.

It was a diverse and surprising mix, with fighters from nations some had never associated with MMA stepping onto the world stage.

For others, the usual powerhouses of combat sports stood tall, with expectations of dominance looming large.

What followed was the announcement of the tournament's format.

Each weight class would have its own bracket, with matchups determined by a lottery.

It was a system that would level the playing field and throw the element of luck, or misfortune, into the mix.

As the matchups were drawn, the tension rose.

For Ireland, the first matchups were both a blessing and a curse.

In the middleweight division, Damon Cross, representing Ireland, drew none other than the United States, a powerhouse nation in MMA.

To make matters crazier, Ireland's lightweight contender also drew the U.S. as their first opponent, setting the stage for two intense Ireland vs. U.S. battles right out of the gate.

It was a daunting prospect.

The U.S. was stacked with talent, especially in these divisions.

Analysts were already calling these matchups "the ones to watch," predicting fireworks between the two nations.

Meanwhile, in the flyweight division, Ireland's fighter drew Spain as their opponent.

While not as high-profile as the U.S. matchups, Spain was still a formidable challenge.

Damon stood in the center of the gym, gripping the file tightly in his hands.

The weight of it felt heavier than it should, given its contents.

His eyes scanned the name printed on the page inside, darting back and forth as if trying to make sense of what he was reading.

Shane Brickland.

He read it again, just to make sure. Shane Brickland. The current UFA middleweight champion.

The man holding the belt Damon was destined to challenge when he returned to the UFA.

And now, somehow, fate had lined them up against each other in the tournament.

It wasn't for the championship, of course. The tournament was on neutral ground, outside the UFA's jurisdiction.

But that didn't change the fact that Damon would be standing across the cage from a reigning champion.

It was insane. Shane Brickland was a huge name, a household one even among casual fans.

The kind of fighter analysts drooled over, with a highlight reel to match.

Yet Damon couldn't help the smirk creeping onto his face. While the world might call it insane, Damon saw it as an opportunity.

If he beat Shane here, there would be no questioning his legitimacy as the next contender.

No one would dare say he didn't deserve a title shot. Beating Shane Brickland in this tournament would be more than a win, it would be a statement.

And as for the challenge of it, Damon felt little to no one could disrupt his flow in the middleweight division.

Fighters had tried before, but they all ended the same, on the wrong side of his precision, power, and relentless pace.

He was the uncrowned king.

Shane Brickland might hold the belt, but Damon knew deep down that no one was as well-rounded as him.

Striking, grappling, clinch work, he had it all. Shane was a force, sure, but he was predictable, leaning heavily on his Jabs, crosses, and tip kicks

To Damon, this wasn't arrogance; it was reality.

He had put in the hours, suffered through countless rounds of training, and evolved into the fighter standing at the top of the mountain.

All that was left was to make it official.