Chapter 862: A Familiar OpponentDamon

Chapter 862: Chapter 862: A Familiar OpponentDamon

began preparing the moment the welterweight match started. He changed and immediately began his warm-up.

He wasn’t particularly stressed about whether the UFA would win or lose. The score was already 4–1, and Damon was confident they would win, so in his mind, the score was already 5–1. Whatever happened in the next match was out of his hands.

Besides, even if the UFA lost, as long as he won his own matches, he would be fine.

"What? It’s over so soon!?"

Damon turned toward the guys watching the screen in shock. It seemed the UFA champion had pulled off a quick finish.

That’s... why am I surprised?

It seemed the UFA was breeding monsters left and right.

Damon turned back and continued preparing. His match was next.

Victor approached him as he hit the pads.

"How do you feel, son? Any pain from the last match? You feeling good?"

Damon chuckled at the concern.

"Don’t worry. You saw my fight. It wasn’t anything to worry about."

"Yeah... can’t say the same about this one, though."

Victor glanced toward one of the posters where Damon and Anton were facing off.

"You have doubts?" he asked as they began wrapping Damon’s hands.

"Doubts? Hahaha, no. I stopped doubting you the day I saw your first win. What I’m worried about is you taking too much damage. Look, you might have already faced Anton, but you should know that facing the same fighter twice is more dangerous than facing a new opponent."

Damon nodded.

That was true.

A new fighter had never fought you before, meaning there were plenty of things they didn’t know about you, and their attacks could catch you by surprise. But someone you had already faced was different.

They knew you, and you knew them.

Worse, going into the fight with the mindset that you had already beaten them could make you careless. A fighter like Anton was bound to improve.

After all, there was a reason he was the double champion of the UNO Championship.

"I know. I’ve spent the past few days working on that. Even before the last fight, my main priority was this one. Plus, he’s probably going to be even more bloodthirsty this time. I used him as a stepping stone last time..."

Damon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"...so he’ll want to return the favor."

Victor smacked him on the back.

"Well, as long as you’re ready... come on. Get your other hand wrapped, and let’s head outside."

Damon didn’t waste any more time. Victor finished wrapping his other hand, and Damon checked his fighting tights. They were different from the last fight, white with golden lines running through them and a few black details. He liked this pair, though he knew white tights often got bloodied in a fight.

He grabbed a bottle of water and walked out, finding Victor speaking with Joey and some men in suits. Before he could join them, one of the guys called out, "Hey, your phone was ringing."

Damon took it and saw who had called. His face brightened.

"Hey."

"Damon... Papa." Svetlana’s voice came through, and he could hear his daughter in the background.

"Hey. How are you doing? Everything okay?" The last thing he wanted was to be in the middle of a fight and find out his wife was having medical issues with the pregnancy.

"Everything is fine, honey. The baby is fine. We were checking on you before your fight and wanted to say good luck. Though I’m sure you don’t need it."

"Coming from you two, I want it. Thank you. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I’ll protect my handsome face." He said that last part quietly.

He heard laughter on the other end. He forgot it was on speaker and cringed at himself.

They spoke for a while longer, and he let their voices settle him. Then he wrapped up the call, handed the phone back, and made his way toward the tunnel.

Back in the arena, the air was thick with noise. The stands were packed, and the crowd was even louder than the MMA World Cup, which had been drawing huge audiences over the past few years.

Demian leaned into his microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think we’ve all been waiting for this one. This one, specifically."

Jon nodded. "Yeah. Two of the most decorated fighters across both companies, and both have held two titles at the same time. You don’t see that very often."

"True," Demian said. "Even in my time, I had to fight hard to achieve that feat, and since then not many have managed to do it. Double champions have always earned my respect."

"Well, if you don’t know who we’re talking about, I suggest you get out from under that rock. Two double champions are about to face off for their respective companies’ integrity. By now, UFA has won five matches out of the six that have happened. A dominant run. We’ll see if that streak continues."

Just then, the music started. The lights around the arena flashed on and off, and the crowd went wild.

Damon stood at the end of the tunnel and let the noise wash over him. He took a slow breath, rolled his shoulders, and started walking.

"And here he is," Jon said. "Demian, you had a lot of words to say about this man before."

Demian leaned forward, his voice picking up. "Well, Jon, what can I say? What Damon Cross has done in this sport is amazing, and frankly, I believe it’s impossible to replicate. Such a dominant run against incredible opponents. Usually when fighters have that kind of record, people have something to say about their opponents. But you can’t bring that argument with this man. When I watch him, I always say there’s a difference between a man and a god. And I say this confidently, we are watching an MMA god at work. He is the greatest combat fighter in this generation, and in the ones that came before him."

Jon chuckled. "A lot of words. True ones, I might say. But Damon is in for a test, because in front of him is a man no slouch in terms of credentials himself."

The lights finished their flash sequence and settled white as Damon walked down the tunnel. He moved with calm, rolling his shoulders and shaking out his arms. The noise of the crowd pressed against him, but he kept his eyes forward, toward the cage where the referee was already waiting.

He stepped through the door and onto the canvas, and the crowd rose. Some chanted his name, others held signs with Anton’s face crossed out. Damon ignored all of it, walking to his corner and setting his feet on the mat. He bounced once, tested the give of the floor, and then looked across the cage.

The lights shifted again, and the music changed. Anton was coming out. He moved with the same unhurried confidence, his shoulders broad under a dark robe. He stopped at the edge of the cage, pulled the robe off, and handed it to his corner without looking.

Demian picked it up again. "There he is. Anton Petrov. Double champion of the UNO. The man who’s been waiting for this rematch longer than anyone."