MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

As Damon stepped into the cage, a strange sense of freedom washed over him.

The roar of the English crowd, the tension in the air, the weight of an entire nation watching, it all faded into nothing the moment his feet touched the canvas.

Here, inside these walls, he was untouchable.

He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. This was home.

Then he saw it.

The look in Darion Elwards' eyes.

It wasn't the usual stare of a man ready for war. It wasn't fire. It wasn't hunger.

It was hesitation.

It was fear.

Damon's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. He could smell it.

The crowd may have been against him, the arena may have been hostile, but none of it mattered. In the end, this fight was just between him and the man in front of him.

And right now, that man had already lost something critical before the first punch was even thrown.

The commentators picked up on the moment, their voices echoing through the speakers.

"Look at Damon Cross! He's completely at ease! There's not an ounce of tension in his body!"

"And look at Darion… he's standing still, barely shifting his feet. This is not a good sign. You do NOT want to enter a fight with Damon Cross looking unsure."

As the tension in the air thickened, Deuce Baffer made his way into the cage, microphone in hand.

The moment was here.

The time for talking was over.

The fight was about to begin.

Deuce Baffer stepped to the center of the cage, the microphone gripped tightly in his hand. He took a deep breath, letting the anticipation in the air build before raising the mic to his lips.

"LLLLLADIES AND GENTLEMEN! FIGHT FANS AROUND THE WORLD! THIS… IS… THE WORLD MMA TOURNAMENT MIDDLEWEIGHT QUARTERFINALS!"

The crowd erupted, a mix of deafening cheers and jeers shaking the arena.

"This fight is three rounds in the middleweight division! Introducing first, fighting out of the blue corner!"

Baffer turned toward Darion Elwards, gesturing to him with his free hand.

"He stands six feet one inch tall! Official weight, 185 pounds! With a professional record of 16 wins, 4 losses, fighting out of Birmingham, England! Representing England… DARION 'THE ASSASSIN' ELWARDS!"

The English crowd exploded in support, their cheers shaking the arena. Darion lifted a fist, his expression neutral, but his body language betrayed the tension lingering in his movements.

Deuce barely gave the noise a second before turning toward Damon.

"And his opponent, fighting out of the red corner!"

Even before he continued, the boos started raining down. Loud, merciless, unrelenting.

Damon just stood there, unbothered.

"He stands at six feet two inches tall! Official weight, 185 pounds! With an undefeated professional record of 18 wins, no losses! Fighting out of Limerick, Ireland! Representing Ireland! The rising star of world MMA! DAMON 'THE RONIN' CROSS!"

The reaction was split, Irish fans chanting, English fans drowning them out with boos.

Damon smirked. Baffer lowered the mic, stepping back as the referee called both men to the center.

It was time.

The moment Deuce Baffer stepped back, the chants exploded, a wave of brutal, merciless insults that could only come from an English crowd.

"WANKER! WANKER! WANKER!"

The entire arena was in sync, the sound hitting like a war drum. Damon stood still, unbothered, but the chants grew louder.

"WHO THE FCK ARE YOU?! WHO THE FCK ARE YOU?!"

Thousands of voices mocked him, questioning his place, his worth.

"SIT DOWN, PADDY! SIT DOWN, PADDY!"

The English fans were in full force, using anything and everything to rattle him.

Damon didn't react.

As the chants from the English crowd grew louder, the commentators couldn't ignore the atmosphere inside the arena.

"Listen to this place!" one of them exclaimed over the noise. "I've been in some wild crowds before, but this might be one of the most hostile environments Damon Cross has ever walked into."

"It's relentless," the other added. "They're trying to get inside his head before the fight even starts. This isn't just support for Darion Elwards, this is a full-blown psychological warfare against Damon."

"They know what's at stake. They know Damon is the biggest threat in this tournament. If Elwards can somehow pull off an upset, it would send shockwaves through the MMA world. And this crowd is doing everything they can to make it happen."

The cameras panned across the sea of English fans, some waving flags, others flipping Damon off as they sang their brutal chants in unison.

"Proper English crowd behavior," one commentator chuckled. "They've been waiting for this moment, and they are making sure Damon Cross hears every word of it."

As the chants raged on, the referee finally called both fighters to the center of the cage. The energy in the building didn't die down, but it was time for the fight to begin.

His opponent, Darion Elwards, smirked, nodding his head slightly as if feeding off the energy. This was their strategy. The crowd was their weapon. They wanted to get inside Damon's head, make him emotional, make him lose focus.

The referee gestured for both fighters to step forward. Damon and Darion Elwards walked to the center of the cage, standing inches apart.

The crowd's chants still echoed, but inside the cage, it was just the two of them and the referee's voice cutting through the noise.

"Alright, gentlemen," the referee began, his tone firm and authoritative. "You both know the rules. I want a clean fight. Protect yourselves at all times. Listen to my instructions at all times. If I tell you to stop, you stop. Understood?"

Both fighters gave small nods, never breaking eye contact.

"Touch gloves if you want to," the ref added. Continue your saga on My Virtual Library Empire

Darion extended his hand slowly, smirking as if testing Damon's patience.

Damon didn't hesitate, he ignored it.

No handshakes. No fake respect.

The crowd booed louder, but Damon didn't care.

The referee, unfazed, stepped back and lifted his arm.

"Ready?"

Damon took a deep breath, shaking out his arms.

"Ready?"

Darion bounced on his feet, eyes locked on Damon.

The referee dropped his arm.

"Fight!!"