MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat-Chapter 625: Try it, bitch!

Shane rolled hard to the side and kicked off the cage with his foot, barely forcing the angle wide enough to relieve some of the torque.

He pulled his arm down, twisting his shoulder out of danger with pure grit and timing. The crowd reacted to the escape.

He scrambled to all fours, face red with effort, arm hanging loose. Damon followed, fast and clean. He slammed a knee to the body, then sprawled and pressed Shane back down. freewёbnoνel.com

"You got heart," Damon said, dragging Shane into a front headlock. "But I'm still breaking something."

Shane growled. "Try it, bitch."

Damon locked his grip tighter, pressing all his weight down, his hips riding high.

He transitioned from the front headlock to a cradle, then dragged Shane sideways, slowly pinning the same arm that had nearly been ripped earlier.

One commentator spoke through the booth, voice sharp. "He's targeting that left arm. Over and over. This is surgical."

Another responded. "Yeah, and Shane's no bum. That escape a moment ago was gutsy, but Damon's not letting up. He wants a permanent reminder."

Damon kept the arm pinned, one knee pressing down while his right hand wrenched the wrist. He wasn't aiming for a quick finish now. He was aiming to end something.

Damon shifted his weight, keeping his hips low as he passed to side control.

Shane squirmed underneath him, trying to create space with his elbow, but Damon anticipated it.

He shoved Shane's arm across his own neck, pinning it with his shoulder as he slid his right leg over and locked into position.

His grip cinched tight, forearm digging under the chin.

Shane twisted once, then twice, trying to pull free.

His foot stomped the mat for leverage, but Damon locked the rear hand behind his opponent's head and adjusted the squeeze.

The choke was tight. Just enough pressure to collapse the airway and blood flow, enough to shut it down quickly.

Shane's hand hovered as if he might tap, but Damon didn't look at him.

He kept his eyes forward, muscles locked in place. The moment stretched only for seconds before Shane's limbs slowed.

His resistance dropped, and the referee moved in immediately, waving it off and grabbing Damon's shoulder.

Damon released instantly. He stood up without celebration, stepping back as Shane rolled flat and the medics stepped in. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes stayed shut.

Damon let Shane's body slump to the mat as he rose to his feet, unbothered and steady.

He beat his chest once, firm and deliberate, then stood over his opponent with a smirk.

The referee stepped in quickly, guiding him back, but the message had already been sent.

The arena roared.

Chants burst out from every side, flashes from cameras flickered, and the energy swelled like a title had just changed hands.

The commentary team reacted instantly.

"Wow! Damon Cross with an absolute statement tonight!"

"That choke was clinical. No wasted motion. And you saw the message, he let the performance do the talking."

The camera zoomed in on Damon, standing tall with his arms at his sides, the crowd behind him.

His team pushed through the opened gate, surrounding him with proud smiles and relieved shoulders.

Damon turned and immediately embraced Victor, who held the hug a moment longer than usual. The old man leaned in, voice low and gruff.

"Don't get cocky now," Victor muttered, patting Damon's back with a solid thump. "You did great."

Damon nodded once, steady and calm. "I know."

The others gathered close, offering fist bumps, claps on the back, quiet praise that didn't need to be loud to mean something.

Then, a cheer rippled closer to the cage edge as Svetlana stepped in, holding Ava close against her shoulder. Damon's face softened the moment he saw them.

Svetlana approached, her eyes lit with quiet pride, and Damon opened his arms. She handed Ava to him gently, and Damon took her in his arms, cradling her against his chest.

Ava blinked at him, resting her head just under his chin like she always did when the world around them got too loud.

Damon hugged them both close, pressing a quick kiss to Svetlana's temple before shifting his attention to the tiny bundle in his arms.

He looked down at Ava, her small face calm, eyes wide but not alarmed. The soft pink earbuds nestled in her ears explained the quiet.

She didn't flinch from the noise of the arena, just stared up at him, mouth slightly open, her hands lightly gripping the collar of his hoodie.

He tried to speak, keeping his voice low and warm, "You did good, princess. You didn't even cry."

Ava didn't say anything, just blinked slowly, her head resting against his chest.

Damon smiled and gently rubbed her back in slow, rhythmic circles, letting her feel his heartbeat.

This was her first time in public. First time seeing him after a fight. And even though she wouldn't remember this night, he knew he always would.

Shane had regained consciousness but not composure. Still on one knee, he waved off the medics checking his jaw, instead pointing sharply to his right arm.

His face was tight with pain, lips pressed together, and though he wasn't yelling, it was clear something wasn't right.

The medics helped him to the stool in his corner, a doctor crouched beside him, already examining the limb.

Across the cage, the energy had shifted. The crowd buzzed not just with celebration, but with curiosity.

Everyone waited to see what would follow, and it became clear when the announcer stepped through the ropes.

Deuce Baffer raised the microphone, glancing across the cage. Shane wasn't moving.

The referee turned to Damon, gesturing him forward.

Damon nodded. He passed Ava back to Svetlana with a kiss on the forehead, then turned back and crouched beside his daughter. "Come on," he whispered.

Ava took his finger, walking beside him as best she could, still wobbly, still small, but determined.

She clung close to his leg with one hand, her little shoes tapping the canvas softly. The moment was already iconic.

Ronan Black stood near the center with the belt over his shoulder.

Damon reached the middle and gently crouched again, keeping Ava between his arm and his leg as he stood calmly, nodding to Deuce Baffer.

The mic was raised.

And the world went quiet.

Now it was time for the official words.