MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat - Chapter 647

Chapter 647: Chapter 647: The Final Call
The arena buzzed with anticipation as both fighters stood in the center of the octagon.

The referee, Garne Rowen, positioned himself between them, gripping their wrists firmly.

Deuce Baffer stepped forward, microphone in hand, his voice booming through the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, referee Garne Rowen has called a stop to this contest at four minutes, thirty-eight seconds of round number five!”

The crowd erupted, the noise deafening.

“DECLARING THE WINNER BY KNOCKOUT!!!!…”

A brief pause, the tension mounting.

“DAAAAMOOON ‘THE RONIN’ CROOOOOSS!!!”

The arena exploded in cheers as the referee raised Damon’s hand high. Damon’s face lit up with a triumphant smile, the culmination of his hard-fought victory evident in his expression.

The crowd’s roar was thunderous, vibrating through the cage floor.

As they called his name again, he raised his arms and roared, the sound tearing from his chest and joining with the deafening cheers.

He knew he’d earned every second of this moment. He had to admit, though, this fight had been harder than he wanted it to be.

This was the most damage he’d taken in a long time. His face still buzzed from the glancing shots, his ribs ached from the body work, and that cut over his eye stung in the bright lights.

To think he’d actually bled early in the fight, it was a lesson he wouldn’t forget.

This wasn’t middleweight anymore. This was the light heavyweight division.

The power, the size, the punishment, it was a whole new level. And tonight, he’d shown he could still stand tall in it.

Damon finished his celebration and turned toward Jon, who was standing nearby, his expression a mix of fatigue and respect.

They met in the center of the octagon, the crowd’s cheers still echoing around them.

Jon extended his hand, and Damon took it firmly. Their eyes met, both acknowledging the war they had just endured.

“Good fight,” Jon said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion.

“Thanks,” Damon replied, nodding.

Jon smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Welcome to light heavyweight,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Damon chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. “It’s different up here,” he admitted.

Jon nodded, his expression turning serious. “It is. But you handled it well.”

They released their handshake, and Jon clapped Damon on the shoulder before turning to leave towards his corner.

Damon watched him go, then turned back to his corner, the weight of the fight settling into his muscles.

The commentator stepped into the cage, microphone in hand, the crowd still buzzing with excitement.

He walked over to Damon, who stood tall in the center, sweat-slick and breathing heavy but still focused.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with the winner of tonight’s epic main event, Damon Cross!”

The crowd roared in approval, the noise rolling through the arena like a wave.

Damon gave a small nod, his chest still heaving, his eyes locked on the commentator.

The commentator grinned, his voice clear over the speakers. “Damon, this was your first fight at light heavyweight, and what a fight it was! You took everything Jon threw at you and gave it right back. How does it feel to come up here and prove you can hang with the bigger guys?”

Damon took a breath, a faint smile touching his lips. “It feels amazing. Jon’s a tough guy, a real veteran. I knew I had to be sharp tonight. This weight, it’s different, but I feel good here.”

The commentator nodded, his expression serious now. “You know, any time a champion like you goes up a division and wins, the question always comes up, are you chasing double-champ status? Is that on your mind right now?”

Damon’s smile widened, and he nodded once. “Of course it’s on my mind. I’ve always said I want to challenge myself. I want to prove I’m the best, no matter the weight. Tonight was the first step. I’m here to make noise, to show I belong. So, yes i want that double champ status.”

The commentator’s grin returned, the crowd roaring again at Damon’s words. “You’ve got the fans behind you, that’s for sure! Any final words for them tonight?”

Damon looked out at the sea of faces, his voice steady and full of pride. “Thank you for believing in me. I’m just getting started up here. This isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning.”

The crowd roared once more, the energy crackling in the air as Damon raised his hand, the promise of future wars shining in his eyes.

Jon stood across from the commentator, sweat dripping from his brow, his breathing slow but controlled. The microphone was raised to his face, the crowd’s cheers softening as they listened.

“Jon, you went to war tonight. How did it feel in there?”

Jon smiled, nodding slightly. “I felt good,” he said in his thick Polish accent, his voice steady despite the exhaustion. “I knew Damon was fast, but his power… it surprised me. He’s strong at this weight.”

The commentator grinned, leaning in. “You think we’ll see him chasing that second belt? Another double champ in the making?”

Jon’s smile widened just a bit. “I think so,” he said. “If he keeps this up, yes. Another double champ for sure.”

The fight had been a war for both men, every inch of it earned in sweat and pain.

But in the end, it showed exactly how Damon had adapted to the weight.

Still, Damon knew there was no shortcut in this division.

Unless he decided to demand the title shot outright, to skip the line and call out the champion, he’d have to do it the hard way.

That meant a few more fights, a few more names on his record, before he could claim the light heavyweight belt as his own.

And as Damon looked around the cage, at the fans still cheering and the weight of the night settling into his shoulders, he knew he was ready for it.

The long way or the short way, it didn’t matter. He was here to take this place over.