MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon let out a soft groan as he moved to relieve the stiffness in his neck.

The dull ache told him he'd slept in the worst possible position, head hanging halfway off the bed, spine twisted in protest.

He blinked several times, getting used to the morning light coming through the blinds.

The room was messy, with clothes everywhere and shoes thrown messily by the door. He had seen it many times before, but today it seemed kind of funny.

A weight on his legs made him glance down. Svetlana was sprawled across the bed, her arm draped across his knees, her face buried into a pillow.

Her position was... unique, to say the least. half of her body angled off the edge of the bed, her legs sticking out like she'd collapsed mid-cartwheel. Damon chuckled under his breath.

He rubbed his face, the events of the night before playing like snapshots in his mind.

The dinner turned celebration with the team, Demaien and his friends joining in, the toasts, the stories, the endless chatter. It had been fun, one of those rare nights where everyone let loose.

"Yeah, fun night," he muttered to himself, smirking.

He carefully moved Svetlana's arm and swung his legs off the bed.

The cold floor greeted him, grounding him immediately.

As he sat there, rubbing his neck, he let out a long exhale. His mind wandered back to everything that had happened over the past few days, qualifying for the World MMA Tournament, the chaos surrounding the matches.

It had been non-stop.

And now, even in the stillness of the morning, he could feel it.

The weight of everything.

The expectations.

The noise.

Svetlana stirred slightly behind him, her hand searching the bed for warmth. Damon glanced back, smiling faintly. She looked peaceful, even in her ridiculous position.

He grabbed a water bottle from the nightstand and took a long sip.

Today was going to be a calm day, though the pounding headache from the hangover reminded Damon that last night had been anything but.

He hardly ever drank, almost never, but last night was a different case.

Everyone was doing it, celebrating the team's win and the madness that had unfolded in the tournament qualifiers.

And then there was Svetlana, whose fun nudges and teasing finally helped him relax.

Damon was shocked when he saw her drinking too. She never did, not even during the big parties at home.

What happened last night? She'd decided to let loose. And the results… well, let's just say when they got back, things had escalated between them in ways he hadn't quite expected.

People did crazy things when on alcohol that they didn't do normaly when sober.

Not that he was complaining.

He glanced over at her again, sprawled in that hilarious position, still fast asleep. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

Anyway...

The next few days would be different. The pace would slow down, at least for a little while.

Rest was on the agenda, real rest. No training camps, no matches to prepare for, just time to reset.

Of course, resting also meant going back to the U.S. and handling a few things he'd been putting off.

Damon sighed as he rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pounding in his skull. The list of things waiting for him back home wasn't small.

Joey's brother, the elixir, his mom and the news about his father, there was a lot he needed to address. But for now, he didn't need to rush.

For today, at least, he could afford to take it slow.

Damon stepped into the cold shower, letting the icy water hit his skin and wash away the remnants of last night.

He scrubbed himself down, the sensation waking him fully, and brushed his teeth thoroughly.

By the time he was done, he felt refreshed, though the headache still lingered faintly in the back of his mind.

He dried off and changed into a fresh set of clothes, glancing at the state of the room as he buttoned his shirt.

It was a mess, pillows on the floor, a bottle tipped over on the nightstand, and Svetlana's dress draped over the back of a chair. He sighed.

"Guess I'd better clean this up before housekeeping gets a heart attack," he muttered. Enjoy exclusive chapters from My Virtual Library Empire

He worked quickly, tossing stray items into their proper places and straightening up what he could.

Once the room looked decent again, Damon stretched his arms, deciding it was time to get some coffee.

The hotel was as impressive as ever. Modern, elegant, and spacious, it felt more like a luxurious retreat than just a place to crash.

Damon made his way downstairs, following the warm, inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee to the small breakfast café.

The place was cozy, with polished wooden tables, soft lighting, and the hum of quiet conversation filling the space.

A few early risers sat scattered around, sipping coffee and munching on pastries.

Damon stepped up to the counter, glancing at the menu briefly before ordering a black coffee.

When the steaming cup was handed to him, he grabbed a seat by the window, watching the early morning bustle of Dublin outside.

The city had a charm to it, old-world beauty mixed with modern energy.

He took a sip of his coffee, savoring the rich bitterness, and let himself relax for the first time in what felt like ages.

Damon turned his head toward the counter, spotting Victor casually ordering something.

As soon as Victor noticed him, he gave a nod and carried his tray over, setting it down on Damon's table.

"Good morning," Victor greeted, his voice carrying its usual calm yet commanding tone.

Damon grimaced, taking another sip of his coffee. "I wish."

Victor chuckled, shaking his head. "You get punched for a living; you can handle a little hangover."

Damon raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Little?"

Victor grinned knowingly. "When I was your age—"

"Really?" Damon interrupted, looking at him with mock skepticism.

Victor laughed, shaking his head again. "Okay, okay, before I start telling war stories." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and slid it across the table toward Damon. "Here, read this."

Damon took the phone reluctantly, glancing down at the screen. It took him a second to focus, but as his eyes scanned the post, his tired expression shifted.

The post grabbed his attention immediately. His eyes darted from one line to the next, and the more he read, the more intrigued he became.

By the time he reached the end, he set the phone down, leaning back in his chair with a raised eyebrow.

"Well," Damon said slowly, "that's… interesting."