Chapter 450: The Fallout
Shane Brickland had a bad time with time. It was more than just a loss for him; it was a total destruction of the authority he had built up as the UFA Middleweight Champion.
It was impossible to make an excuse for how easily Damon had killed him. There was no mistake or mess, just pure domination.
The MMA world erupted. Analysts and fans alike tore apart Shane’s performance, questioning whether he had ever truly been championship material.
The fact that he had once defeated Ismael Desayen, the very man set to fight Damon, only made things worse.
If Damon could make Shane Brickland look like an amateur, what did that say about Desayen?
Social media was ruthless.
Fans who had already predicted a Damon victory over Ismael now almost pitied the veteran. "This ain’t even gonna be a fight," some posted. "Desayen should just retire now," others added.
The narrative had shifted drastically, what was once hyped as a generational clash was now being treated as a foregone conclusion.
It wasn’t just Damon’s strength that people talked about; it was also his speed. For a fighter of his size, it was scary how close he could get and hit with devastating precision.
A danger for any opponent because they are fast, smart, and strong. Fighters were made to handle at least one of those things.
But all three? The fight wasn’t fair.
Damon’s win had sent a shockwave through the tournament, making one thing clear to everyone watching: The King had arrived.
As fast as the media moved, the tournament refused to slow down.
Each day or two, an event was held, the matchups coming one after another, leaving little time for fighters or fans to breathe.
But soon, the dust settled, and with the initial eliminations done, it was time to move into the next phase, the Round of 16.
This was the first major milestone of the tournament.
While many countries had participated in the qualifiers, only the strongest remained.
However, there was a noticeable absence of certain high-profile names. Fighters like James Jonas, widely considered one of the best in the world, had chosen not to represent the U.S.
In spite of its prestige, the tournament had not yet established itself as the final test of skill.
Since the prize money is still a secret, it didn’t do much to attract fighters who were already making a lot of money in other ways.
National pride was the real reason, but for some, that wasn’t enough.
Despite this, the competition was still fierce.
The fighters who had made it this far weren’t just placeholders, they were hungry, determined, and ready to prove themselves on the world stage.
And for Damon Cross, the message was clear.
The real war was about to begin.
Damon sat in the locker room, wrapping his hands, his thoughts drifting as he listened to the distant hum of the arena.
James Jonas, the reigning UFA heavyweight champion, wasn’t representing the U.S.
His absence had been a topic of discussion, with speculation running wild. Some believed he saw no reason to risk his legacy for a title that didn’t yet hold meaning.
Others suggested it was the unknown prize pool, fighters at his level weren’t easily tempted by mystery checks.
Others suggested much more worse...
But to Damon, that didn’t matter. The ones who were here? They were all that mattered.
.
.
.
Across from him, Victor sat quietly, going over footage of the other fighters on his tablet.
Every match, every mistake, every potential opening, it was all being studied. Damon knew that Victor didn’t waste time analyzing those who had already lost.
The only focus now was on who remained.
"You’ve seen the brackets, yeah?" Victor finally spoke, glancing up.
Damon nodded. He had. His next opponent was tough, not a champion like Shane Brickland, but still a real threat. And that was all he needed to know.
With the tournament entering the Round of 16, only the best of the best remained.
The early rounds had weeded out the unprepared, the untested, and the overhyped. What was left was a battlefield filled with killers.
For Ireland, the lightweight division was gone, its only representative eliminated. But in middleweight, Damon Cross still stood. And that was all that mattered to them now.
Across the remaining nations, the competition was fierce.
These weren’t just prospects or rising stars, many of them were champions, former champions, and veterans from promotions outside of the UFA.
Damon had fought and beaten some of the best fighters in the world, but this tournament wasn’t just about UFA talent.
The middleweight contenders who had made it this far represented their countries with pride:
Brazil
Australia
Italy
England
Sweden
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Cuba
Canada
Russia
France
Germany
Netherlands
New Zealand
South Africa
Armenia
Japan
Ireland – Damon Cross.
As Damon sat in the training room, going over footage with Victor, he knew this wasn’t just another fight.
This was different. Some of these fighters had never fought in the UFA, had never been part of the same circuit.
He couldn’t just rely on past knowledge or old experiences. @@novelbin@@
For some, he had no frame of reference at all.
That was fine.
Damon didn’t care where they came from or what titles they held. He only cared about what happened in the cage.
And soon, the bracket would determine his next opponent.
Damon sat with Victor, watching footage of the remaining fighters. Sixteen countries had made it, each with their own top talent.
Some fighters came from the UFA like him, but many represented other promotions, UNO Champ, BLF, Delta, each with their own style and approach.
He might never fight in those organizations, but this tournament gave him the chance to test himself against their best.
Victor leaned back. "You’re getting a look at the best outside the UFA. No better way to prove you’re the real number one."
Damon nodded, his focus sharp. He didn’t care where they came from. All that mattered was what happened in the cage.
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