MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat
Chapter 662 - 662: The Face of a New Era

The press room lights were bright, focused on the long table at the front of the stage.

Reporters filled every seat, cameras already rolling. Damon sat calmly behind the mic, wearing a clean black hoodie, fresh after his shower.

Ava sat in his lap, still in her tiny hoodie with her curls tucked under the hood, one hand holding onto his shirt while the other gripped a soft toy.

Ronan took the podium first, his voice steady.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us for the official post-fight press conference. Please welcome the winner of tonight's main event, still undefeated, now 29-0, Damon Cross."

The room clapped and camera shutters clicked as Ronan stepped aside. Damon didn't stand. He just gave a polite nod, his hand gently patting Ava's back as she looked out at the flashing lights.

"Appreciate it," Damon said. "Let's get into it."

Ronan gestured to the press pool. The first journalist stood up quickly.

"Damon, congrats on the win. That was one of the most technical fights we've seen all year. How would you rate your performance tonight?"

Damon exhaled through his nose. "Tough fight. Nankalayev's the real deal. Strong, smart, heavy base. But I felt sharp. I knew what I wanted to do, and I stuck to it. I give myself an eight. There's always more to fix."

Ava turned her head up and whispered, "Dada talkin'."

"Yeah," Damon murmured, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Dada's talkin'."

Another reporter leaned forward. "We saw a unique transition after the armbar. Can you walk us through what led to that final submission?"

Damon shrugged slightly. "I just followed what my body gave me. He defended the first finish. I stayed patient. Then I saw the neck, and it was there. That's it."

Ava pointed at the reporter. "He ask?"

Damon smiled. "Yeah, he ask."

The next question came in quickly. "You called out Alex Tereira with one word: Chama. Are you officially asking for that title shot?"

Damon didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I earned it. That's the fight. I've climbed every rung. I'm ready."

The crowd stirred. Another reporter followed up, "What would a win over Tereira mean to you?"

Damon rested his arm around Ava and answered plainly. "Everything. That's legacy. That's history. And I'm not here just to be remembered, I'm here to take it all."

Ava mumbled something too soft to understand, then held her toy high above her head. Damon looked down and chuckled quietly.

"She agrees."

Laughter broke across the room.

Ronan gave a small nod. "We'll take two more questions."

Several hands shot up at once as Ronan reminded the room there were only two questions left.

Reporters called Damon's name, some louder than others, hoping to be picked. The energy was tense, every journalist wanted the last headline.

Ronan pointed to one near the middle. "Go ahead."

The reporter stood. "Damon, as the reigning middleweight champion, I'm sure you've been watching closely. It's rumored that Ivan Novak and RRD will fight for the interim belt in the next few months. What's your plan for that situation? Novak seems to have earned a title shot. You're not holding up the division, are you?"

The room got quieter. Even Ava looked around with a curious tilt of her head.

Damon nodded slowly. He adjusted the mic and answered with a measured tone.

"Yeah, I've been keeping an eye on that. I've watched every card since I moved up. And honestly… it's been good seeing Ivan rise. Real good. I've said before, he's a problem. Sharp hands, good reads, dangerous pace. And yeah, if we had fought when I first called him out, it wouldn't have meant anything. His record was still thin. Beating him back then wouldn't have done much for my record.. still would have done it though."

He paused and gave a small shrug.

"But now? This version of Ivan? I like that fight. I'd even say I want that fight. Especially if I'm holding both belts by then. Champion versus champion, that's how it should be. I'm not holding anything up. I'm setting up real fights. Fights that matter."

Ava tugged at his hoodie sleeve. "Dada, champ-champ?"

He smiled. "That's right. Champ-champ."

The crowd chuckled again, but no one moved.

Ronan nodded once more. "Last question."

Ronan looked around the room and raised his hand one final time. "Alright, last question."

A woman in the back was quick to her feet. "Damon, congratulations on the win. I wanted to shift the topic a bit before we close. There's a movie coming out soon starring Shack Morris, and from what we've heard, you're in it. Is this your first time stepping into the film world? And how was it, transitioning from fighting to acting?"

Damon let out a short laugh, then adjusted Ava in his arms as she leaned into his chest.

"Yeah, that's true. It's my first real acting role. The studio reached out personally and said they wanted a fighter that looked like they actually knew what they were doing. I told them I'd give it a shot."

He looked up at the lights, thinking.

"It's different. Way different. In a fight, you react. In a film, you repeat. Over and over. You gotta hit marks, follow timing, and still make it look natural. That was the biggest challenge, making things look real while knowing it's all being filmed from three angles."

He gave a small shrug.

"But it was fun. I respect actors way more now. They work hard. And Shack's a pro, he helped me through a lot of it."

Ava wiggled in his arms and said something like, "Dada boom-boom?"

Damon grinned. "Yeah, baby. Dada did boom-boom. In the movie too."

Laughter rippled through the room again.

Ronan stepped forward. "That's all for tonight. Thank you, everyone."

Damon stood up slowly, one arm under Ava, the other picking up her toy.

He gave the room a respectful nod, then stepped off the stage with his daughter in his arms and the belt waiting backstage.