MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat-Chapter 496: The Calm After the Storm

The crowd was still roaring, a wave of celebration crashing over the arena. But slowly, as the adrenaline faded and the moment settled, the noise began to quiet down. Not because they weren't excited, but because they wanted to hear him speak.

Damon stood in the center of the cage, the belt around his waist, his team just behind him. His breathing was steady now. The storm had passed.

He ran a hand over his jaw briefly before letting it fall to his side as the interviewer stepped forward again, giving him space but holding the microphone toward him.

The cheers turned into a low murmur, the energy hanging in the air like a charge. Everyone was waiting.

The interviewer smiled, keeping her tone respectful but light. "Damon, you've just made history. You're the first World MMA Middleweight Champion… it was an incredible performance. What's going through your mind right now?"

Damon took a breath and nodded.

"It feels good," he said, his voice steady but calm. "I worked hard for this. My team worked hard. We came here to win, and we did."

He glanced at Victor, then Svetlana, then back at the interviewer. "I'm proud. But it's not just me in here. It's all of them."

The crowd responded with another round of cheers. Damon waited, giving them a moment before turning his attention back to the interview.

"You've been on an incredible run," she continued. "What's next for you? What does the future look like for Damon Cross?"

There was a brief pause. Damon's expression softened just a little. "Well," he said, exhaling through his nose, "first, I'm gonna take a break."

He gave a faint smile.

"I've been fighting non-stop for a long time. Body's good, mind's good, but… it's time to take a breath. Get some time in with my people. Regroup."

He rested his hand on the belt at his waist, fingers brushing over the gold. "After that break, I'll come back. You know, keep doing what I do. Taking what's mine."

Another cheer from the crowd, this time mixed with a few chants of Cross Era! It wasn't arrogance. It was matter-of-fact.

And everyone believed him.

The interviewer nodded. "Congratulations again, Damon. Enjoy the moment, you've earned it."

He gave her a respectful nod in return.

"Thank you."

The camera panned back as the crowd swelled again, chanting his name, waving flags. Damon stood tall, the weight of the belt settling in, but it fit.

This was just the beginning.

Damon had every intention of celebrating.

He'd earned it.

For months, it had been nothing but training, cutting weight, film study, drills, fights… and more fights.

He hadn't let himself breathe.

But now?

Now he could.

And he wanted to enjoy it.

Not just because of the belt.

Not just because he was finally a world champion.

But because there was something else waiting for him during this break.

Something important.

And it wasn't a fight.

At least, not the kind fought inside a cage.

As they walked out of the arena bowl and into the back, the energy shifted.

The noise of the crowd faded behind them, replaced by the hum of backstage chaos staff, cutmen, media crews.

But as Damon rounded the corner into the hallway, a crowd was already waiting.

Fighters. Officials. Media.

And they weren't there for a story.

They were there to shake his hand. To congratulate him.

The first was a high-ranking official from the World MMA Federation.

He clasped Damon's hand firmly.

"Congratulations, champ. That was something else."

Damon nodded once. "Appreciate it."

Next came a few fighters who had already won their divisions, or lost, but still showed up out of respect.

One by one, they gave him the nod, the handshake, the words that meant something.

"You made history, brother."

"Hell of a performance."

"Respect."

Even some of the security guys, people who had worked every fight, stopped him just to say a word.

And Tommy Hughes, who was normally impossible to please, was there too, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Not bad, kid," he said, gruff. "You're getting there."

For Tommy, that was practically a love letter.

Damon took it all in stride, respectful but still riding the high.

Victor stood next to him, arms crossed, a slight grin on his face like he'd known this was coming all along.

Svetlana was there too, quiet but close, the flowers still in her hand.

Damon's body was sore.

He was still sweaty.

His ribs were bruised, and his hands ached from every punch thrown. But none of that mattered. Right now, he was the champion.

And he was going to take this moment, this win, and breathe it in.

Before the next chapter.

Before the next war.

But not before a long, well-earned break.

As Damon was about to head toward the locker room showers, unwrapping his hands and peeling off his gloves, he felt a sudden tug on his arm.

He turned, expecting one of the team—maybe Victor, maybe an official—but it wasn't.

It was Svetlana.

Before he could say anything, she stepped in close and threw her arms around him, holding him tight. Not the usual quiet, composed hug she gave after fights.

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This was different.

She clung to him like she didn't care who was watching, like the world could wait.

Damon froze for a split second, surprised, then wrapped his arms around her, holding her back just as tight. His hand slid up to the back of her head, fingers weaving gently into her hair, keeping her close.

He leaned down slightly, his voice low, right next to her ear.

"What's this for?" he asked, a hint of a grin in his tone.

She didn't pull back.

"Everything," she said quietly.

"I'm proud of you."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The noise of the backstage area faded in his head.

No cameras, no flashing lights.

Just them.

Damon exhaled slowly, his hand resting against the side of her neck, thumb brushing her skin lightly. "You were always here," he said. "Even when I wasn't."

She smiled at that, not saying anything else.

She didn't need to.

And neither did he.

After a long second, Damon gave her a squeeze before finally stepping back, glancing toward the showers.

"I'm gonna be quick," he said, smirking.

"Then we get outta here."

Svetlana nodded.

And for the first time in a long time, Damon felt like he could actually relax.