MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

As he reflected on his training, Damon noticed something about himself - his temper.

He had a tendency to get impatient and throw unnecessary punches when his initial ones didn\'t land as planned.

This wasn\'t just limited to training; he had done the same thing in actual fights.

Damon realized that working on his temper and learning to calm down during fights was essential.

He sat on the ground, his back against the tree trunk, his eyes fixed on the space in front of him.

He didn\'t want to lie down, didn\'t want to look up at the lights, didn\'t want to hear the announcer\'s voice declaring his opponent the winner.

All because he threw a tantrum, lost control, and let his emotions get the better of him.

He thought about his training, how he had tried to manage his temper, to prevent himself from getting angry when he failed.

But it was hard, so hard. He would do okay for a while, and then something would happen, and he would lose it again.

He would end up angry, frustrated, and disappointed in himself.

Damon shook his head, sighing deeply. He felt the weight of his failure, the weight of his temper over him. He knew he needed to work on it, to get better, to be better.

He decided to open up his system status interface, to take a look at his stats, to see where he was, where he needed to go.

The blue light lit up his face, illuminating his features, casting a glow over his skin.

Personal Information:

- Name: Damon Cross

-Nickname:

- Age: 19

- Nationality: Irish-Japan

physical information:

- Weight: 125 lbs

- Height: 6\'2"

- Reach: - Arm: 74"

- Leg: 34"

- Weight Class: Flyweight

- Fights:

- Total Fights: 62

- Unauthorized fights: 60

- Amateur fights: 2

- Professional fights: 0

Fighting Style:

- Style: Muay Thai and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu

The physical stats section made him wince.

Physical Stats:

- Strength: F+

- Speed: F+

- Stamina: F+

- Endurance: C+

- Agility: F+

Mental Stats:

- Tactical Awareness: F+

- Focus: F

Damon gazed at his physical stats, a smile spreading across his face as he thought about how far he\'d come.

His training had paid off, and he could see the improvement in his physicality. But as he looked closer, his smile faded.

His stats were stuck on F+, and no matter how hard he trained, he couldn\'t seem to budge them.

He felt a pang of frustration and disappointment. He had been working so hard, pushing himself to his limits, but it wasn\'t translating to his stats.

Damon wondered if he was doing something wrong, if there was something he was missing.

He turned his attention to his mental stats, and his confusion deepened. He didn\'t know how to improve them, didn\'t know what to do.

He thought about reading books, but laughed at the idea. That didn\'t seem like it would help.

Damon sighed, feeling a sense of uncertainty. He didn\'t know how to move forward, how to improve his mental stats.

But he knew he couldn\'t give up. He had to keep training, keep pushing himself.

These were what he was working with, and he would make the most of it. Maybe unlocking the Elixir shop would help.

Maybe it would give him some answers. But for now, he would continue to train, to improve his skills and techniques.

Damon turned off his status interface, the blue light fading from his face.

He stood up, brushing himself off by dusting his hands over his clothes. He felt the dry earth and leaves falling away from his skin as he moved.

He walked over to the tree, reaching up to unhook the punching bag from the branch.

The chain clacked against the trunk as he lifted it down, the sound echoing through the quiet air.

Damon slung the bag over his back, feeling the weight of it settle onto his shoulders.

He began to jog, his feet pounding against the earth in a steady rhythm.

The sound of his footsteps filled the air as he moved, his breathing steady and calm.

As he jogged, the trees seemed to pass by him in a blur, their leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze of the sunset.

The sky was painted with warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, casting a golden glow over the landscape.

He jogged on, the motel coming into view in the distance. He could see the buildings rising up, the parking lot stretching out before them.

Damon arrived at the motel, holding the punching bag properly, and rushed to enter the room.

He didn\'t even try to hide the bag, knowing his mother would ask where he got it. He would just have to come up with a convincing story.

As he opened the door, the aroma of cooking food wafted out, making his stomach growl with hunger.

He entered the room, punching bag in hand, and his mother looked up from the stove, a questioning expression on her face.

Damon sighed, knowing he had a lot of training ahead of him for the next month.

His next fight wasn\'t close, so he planned to use the time to improve his skills.

And with the festival month approaching, he hoped to get more opportunities to fight and gain experience.

He walked over to his mother, punching bag still in hand, and said, "Hey, Mom. I\'m home." His mother looked at the bag, then back at him, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

Damon knew he had to come up with a good story, so he thought quickly. He could tell her he got it from a friend or that he found it somewhere.

But for now, he just smiled and said, "I\'ll tell you later, Mom. I\'m starving. What\'s for dinner?"

His mother smiled, seemingly accepting his response, and turned back to the stove, she knew as her son grew up he had his own secrets, she just hoped he wasn\'t doing illegal stuff to get gear for fighting.

Damon breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he had dodged the question for now.

He set the punching bag down and took a seat at the table, ready to enjoy his dinner and plan his training for the next month.