MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat-Chapter 560: Life of Pro Champion and Pre Daddyhood

Another month passed, and if Damon had expected a quiet break after becoming champion, he was wrong.

He hadn't fought in weeks, hadn't stepped into camp, hadn't even fully settled into the idea of being the undisputed king of the middleweights, yet the world hadn't given him a second to breathe.

Over the past few years, he'd fought more than most. 7 matches a year. A consistent grind that got him to 22-0 faster than most could imagine, especially without losing.

It wasn't just the wins. It was how dominant he'd been. The tournament, the undefeated streak, the belt… it had all come fast.

And now that he was finally champ, with a child on the way and a family to focus on, he wanted to slow down. He wanted to enjoy it.

But the media wouldn't let him.

They weren't attacking his skill. No one questioned whether Damon Cross could fight. But they had started questioning if he was a great champion or just another fighter who happened to win gold.

That sentiment didn't come out of nowhere.

At the heart of it was Eslum Nurkachek, the current lightweight champion, ranked number one on the UFA's pound-for-pound list.

Eslum wasn't undefeated. But he might as well have been. His loss came early, long before he ever touched gold. Since then, he had dominated his division with clinical consistency.

Title defenses, clean performances, submissions, TKOs, he'd done it all. And since James Jonas retired, there hadn't been a single man on the roster more respected across weight classes.

Damon's fans didn't like that.

They weren't just asking. They were demanding that he be placed above Eslum. The logic was sound on paper, undefeated, world tournament winner, youngest middleweight champ, 22 straight wins, no controversies, no close calls.

But Damon understood why the answer was still no.

Eslum had defended. Not once. Not twice. But enough times that his spot felt earned. Damon had just arrived. And even if he felt like the best, he knew how the game worked.

You don't get handed the throne because you feel like the king.

You prove it. Every time.

So now, it had turned into an internet war. Media outlets quoting analysts, fans debating online, soundbites flooding Chirper. And in the middle of it, Damon's name was dragged up and down like he was the one who said it.

He hadn't even brought it up.

But that didn't matter.

He was the champion now.

And every word spoken by him or for him was going to echo.

But just that would be fine. It was fans talking. And while their words held weight within the MMA community, it didn't really affect him. Not in the way people might think.

He was on break.

Some fighters had started talking slick on Chirper. A few subtle jabs, others more direct. Trying to poke holes in his reign, in his record, even in his rise. But Damon didn't care. Not this time.

Because unlike his previous short break, when he'd gone overseas with Svetlana and still came back after a month

This time, he meant it.

He wasn't just taking a breather from the cage. He was stepping back to be present. To live.

He wanted to be there for every appointment. Every little moment. He wanted to wake up next to Svetlana.

He wanted to see his baby born.

On that note.

They had been bouncing names around for a while now, nothing too serious, just quiet conversations before bed or while cleaning up after breakfast.

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Svetlana leaned back on the couch one evening, rubbing her stomach gently.

"Okay… what do you think about Arielle if it's a girl?"

Damon looked up from his phone. "Arielle?" He gave a small nod. "That's not bad. Sounds clean. Elegant."

She smiled, then added, "Or Kaia. I love the way it sounds."

He tilted his head. "Mmh… I like Kaia more than Arielle. Kaia Cross sounds strong."

Svetlana perked up. "Right?"

Damon smirked. "You're really pushing this like it's a girl."

"Just being prepared."

He leaned back. "Okay then. What if it's a boy?"

She paused. "What about Leo?"

Damon shrugged. "Not bad. But feels too… I don't know, trendy?"

She nodded. "Fair."

"What about Milan?"

Svetlana blinked. "Like the city?"

Damon chuckled. "Yeah. Sounds smooth though."

"Milan Cross," she tested it aloud. "Actually… that's fire."

They laughed.

Other names came and went.

She threw out Elena, Nova, and Selene for girls.

Damon liked Noah, Malik, and Jace for boys.

They hadn't settled on anything, but they were close. Close enough that both were starting to imagine it.

Besides the name discussions and quiet evenings together, the reality of everything had started to settle in. Svetlana was close, really close.

Their last appointment confirmed what they already suspected. The baby could come any day now. But the doctor had still circled a date on the calendar. Two weeks. That was the window.

In two weeks, they'd be holding their child.

A baby. A son or daughter. Damon's mind kept returning to that thought over and over, and no matter how many times he sat with it, it didn't stop making his chest tighten.

He wasn't the one giving birth, yet somehow he felt like he was on the edge of something massive.

More intense than any title fight. More nerve-wracking than any weigh-in. More important than anything he'd ever done.

Time wasn't slowing down, either. If anything, it was speeding up. Every day brought new texts from his mother, or Svetlana's parents.

He was doing his best to keep everyone informed, sending updates, checking in, confirming appointments. Playing the role of the responsible partner, the steady one. The soon-to-be father.

But inside, he was rattled.

His only real source of comfort was his own mother, who didn't offer much comfort at all. When he told her he was nervous, all she did was laugh and tell him that was fine, as long as he didn't run away. Typical of her. She wasn't the type to sugarcoat anything.

Damon didn't say much about it to Svetlana. She already had enough to deal with. Her body was sore more often than not.

Her emotions were up and down, and even if she smiled through it all, he knew it was a lot. He didn't want to put his feelings on her plate too. He kept his nerves to himself.

He spent most of his nights lying awake, watching her sleep. Listening to the quiet sounds of their apartment. Waiting.

It was getting closer.