MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon nodded, processing the information. "Okay. Did he say when?"

Wichan gave a curt nod and replied in Thai, "S̄ạpdāh̄̒ h̄nạ" (Next week).

Damon nodded again, and this time his face looked thoughtful.

He had learned enough Thai to understand simple sentences, but it wasn't perfect yet.

Pronunciation? Terrible.

Fluency? Nonexistent.

But he could piece together the basics, and "next week" was clear enough.

Wichan watched him for a moment before giving a small, approving grunt. "You listen better than you fight," he muttered, turning to leave.

Damon chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks, I guess," he said, more to himself than to Wichan, who was already walking away.

One week. Just seven days left in Thailand, and then it was back to the grind.

Going back to the bigger picture of MMA training, including wrestling, grappling, and all the chaos that came with getting ready for a top opponent.

But as his gaze shifted to Wichan, who was already walking away, a new thought struck him.

He wasn't going to spend his last days in Thailand training.

"I'm definitely going to enjoy these last days," he muttered to himself, stretching his arms above his head. "No more kicks on bamboo trees, no more elbows until I can't feel my arms. It's time to see what this place has to offer."

He could already picture the busy markets, the food stands with their hot woks, the golden temples that sparkled in the sun, and the streets that were full of people from all over the world.

He was going to leave the gym for a while and see what the world had to offer.

With that thought, Damon turned back toward his room, a small grin on his face.

Just as Damon stepped into his room, he froze mid-step at the familiar chime in his head.

DING!

[Upgrade Completed]

[Welcome back, host.]

As the words came into his mind, he blinked. It took him a moment to really take in what was said.

Once that was over, he slowly cracked a relieved smile.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Without wasting another second, Damon shut the door behind him with a quiet click and dashed toward the bed.

The room wasn't large, so it took only a couple of steps before he was dropping onto the mattress, his body bouncing slightly as he landed.

He let out a small chuckle as he stared at the interface in front of him, his grin widening.

"Forget touring, let's see what's new," he said, rubbing his hands together.

This was what he'd been waiting for.

Damon leaned back against the wall, staring at the glowing interface hovering in front of him. Read exclusive chapters at empire

"Huh," he muttered, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Faster than I thought."

A few minutes ago, he was mumbling under his breath about how the system shut down all of a sudden, angry that he had no control.

It was back up and running like it had never been away.

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. "Yeah, maybe I was bitching a bit too much," he admitted, a sheepish grin crossing his face.

Damon's eyes darted across the screen, his brows furrowing as he pressed and slid through the interface.

The usual blue UI had taken on a lighter shade, almost sleek in its presentation. His name sat boldly at the top:

[DAMON CROSS]

He navigated through the tabs, but something was missing. The status tab was nowhere to be found.

"What the…" Damon muttered, his fingers moving faster, tapping on every possible option.

All he saw was the label A-Rank Fighter glaring back at him.

There were no detailed stats like strength, speed, or agility, nothing that broke down his progress in the way he was used to.

He opened his mouth to complain, but quickly shut it again.

"What happened? Was it taken out?" he muttered under his breath, scanning the screen with sharp eyes, searching for anything that might explain the changes.

Just as the irritation began to bubble over, a glaring, blinking exclamation mark caught his attention at the edge of the interface.

It pulsed insistently, practically demanding to be pressed.

Damon's lips curved into a small grin, his curiosity overriding his annoyance. "What the hell is this?"

He pressed it without hesitation.

Damon's eyes narrowed as he pressed the blinking exclamation mark, the light from the interface reflecting on his face.

The alert expanded, revealing a detailed message that made him sit up straighter.

[ALERT: System Upgrade Complete – Features Consolidated]

[The status screen has been optimized. Individual stats (Strength, Speed, Agility, etc.) are no longer displayed numerically. Your rank now represents your overall potential as a fighter. Focus on refining your skills, as the system will analyze your performance dynamically.]

Damon blinked, reading the message twice. "No individual stats? So, I'm just 'A-rank' now?"

He mumbled, and his voice was full of confusion. "How the hell am I supposed to track my progress without knowing the numbers?"

Scrolling further, he noticed a second paragraph:

[New Feature Added: Performance Analytics]

[This feature will track your efficiency, adaptation, and progression during fights and training. No need to obsess over raw stats, your evolution as a fighter is what matters most.]

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Performance Analytics?" He tapped on the new feature, and another screen opened.

A holographic figure of himself appeared, showing a breakdown of his fighting style, strengths, and weaknesses.

It displayed categories like Striking Precision, Grappling Efficiency, Stamina Management, and Adaptability.

Underneath each category, there were percentages and color-coded bars, with notes attached:

Striking Precision: 89% - Exceptional timing and accuracy with high efficiency in combinations.

Grappling Efficiency: 63% - Solid groundwork, but lacks fluid transitions and offensive submissions.

Stamina Management: 81% - Excellent endurance but needs better pacing during aggressive sequences.

Adaptability: 78% - Quick learner but occasionally relies too heavily on pre-planned strategies.

]

Damon tilted his head, impressed despite himself. "Okay, that's… actually kind of cool."

The screen continued to update, reflecting his progress over his recent fights.

He couldn't help but grin. "Guess I don't need the numbers anymore. This does feel more… complete."

He leaned back, hands behind his head. "All right, System, you've earned some credit. Let's see what else you've got."

Damon continued scrolling through the new interface, taking in the updated categories.

His eyes stopped on the Shop tab, something that had always been there but now looked different.

There were more categories than before, each one with its own intriguing title.

But one in particular caught his attention:

[Martial Art Pack Shop]