Chapter 33: Aoife's efforts

Five months went by, and Damon's life settled into a routine.

He woke up every morning at 6:00 AM to the point it was a habit, the system had a alarm feature he had discovered.

His mother lay asleep on the other single bed, her gentle snores filling the quiet room. Damon got out of bed, stretched his arms, and began his morning routine.

He quickly dressed in his worn-out clothes and headed outside to start his training.

The cool morning air hit him as he stepped out of the motel room. He took a deep breath, feeling invigorated, and began his run.

Damon pounded the pavement, his feet echoing through the empty streets. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he ran, his muscles warming up for the intense training session ahead.

After his run, he returned to the motel parking lot, where he had made it his makeshift training area.

He began his martial arts drills, practicing his punches, kicks, and grappling moves. The sound of his heavy breathing and the thud of his feet on the ground filled the air.

As the sun rose higher, Damon's training intensified. He sparred with an imaginary opponent, his movements swift and precise.

He was a force to be reckoned with, his determination and hard work evident in every move.

Meanwhile, his mother slept peacefully, unaware of her son's grueling training session outside.

She had grown accustomed to Damon's early morning routine and slept soundly, trusting that he was safe and focused on his goals.

As the morning wore on, Damon's training came to an end. He returned to the motel room, exhausted but satisfied with his progress.

He showered, dressed, and prepared his breakfast, his eyes fixed on the TV as he watched UFA fights, analyzing the fighters' techniques and strategies.

Damon's fascination with the sport grew with each passing day. He became a fan of Collin Nacgyver, admiring his confidence and skill in the octagon.

He knew that one day, he would face the best fighters in the world, and he was determined to be ready.

Damon's fascination with the UFA grew as he watched fight after fight.

He wasn't just a fan of Collin Nacgyver; he admired many fighters.

Dominic Georgeson's impressive title reign, Jorge saints's welterweight dominance, and Kamil Murnamadov's grappling mastery all captivated him.

As he watched, Damon noticed that the TV played old events, reruns of fights from years ago.

But he had learned to catch the recent shows, staying up late to watch the latest events.

His mother would often look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and concern.

She would see him sitting on the bed, his eyes glued to the TV, his face lit up by the screen's glow.

She would hear the sounds of punches and kicks, the roar of the crowd, and the commentators' voices.

She would wonder what drew him to this sport, why he spent hours watching fights.

The motel room was filled with the sounds of the UFA. The TV blared, the fighters' voices shouting, the crowd cheering.

Aoife would try to sleep, but the noise would seep into her room, echoing off the walls. She would cover her ears, trying to block out the sounds, but they would still seep in.

Despite the noise, Damon's mother never complained. She saw the determination in her son's eyes, the fire that burned within him.

She knew that he was chasing his dreams, and she wouldn't stand in his way.

So she would lie in bed, listening to the sounds of the UFA, knowing that her son was one step closer to achieving his goals.

Damon continued to fight in the backyard brawls, the system providing him with quests to win. He hadn't kept winning, but his only loss was five months ago.

Since then, he had been dominant in the makeshift cage, his name spreading throughout Stockton.

People who knew Joey's fights would whisper about Damon, the young fighter with a fierce determination.

His reputation grew, and with it, the money he brought home. Aoife felt a mix of emotions - gratitude for the financial stability, but also uselessness. She wasn't contributing, and it bothered her.

Aoife felt useless, a feeling that had become all too familiar. She wasn't contributing to their livelihood, and it gnawed at her.

Her son, Damon, was the one bringing home the money, fighting in those brutal backyard brawls. She hated the thought of it, hated that he had to put himself in harm's way.

She remembered the day he dropped out of school, the day they fled their old life. She had stolen his childhood, forced him to grow up too quickly.

Now, at 19, he was fighting for their survival. The guilt was crushing her.

Aoife's mind wandered to Damon's fights, the ones he had been having for months now. She didn't know what drove him to keep going back, what made him think it was worth it.

She saw the physical toll it took on him, the bruises, the cuts, the scars. But she also saw the determination in his eyes, the fire that burned within him.

She didn't understand it, but she knew she couldn't stop him. He was an adult now, making his own decisions.

All she could do was be there for him, support him, and hope that he wouldn't get hurt too badly. The thought of losing him, of something happening to him, was unbearable.

Aoife felt a mix of emotions, but she knew one thing - she wouldn't stand in Damon's way. She would let him chase his dream, no matter how dangerous, no matter how difficult.

She would be his rock, his support, and his safe haven. And as she watched him train, she knew that she would always be there for him, no matter what.

Four months ago, Aoife had asked the motel owner for a job. She had to beg and beg until she finally got it.

The owner agreed to give her a job, but instead of paying her money, she would get free rent. This was a big help for Aoife and Damon.

Before, they were a homeless family, living on the streets and struggling to get by.

But now, with the free rent, they were able to stay in the motel room. It was still very hard for them, and they didn't have much money, but it was a little better than before.

Damon's fighting was bringing in some money, and with the free rent, they were able to save some of it.

This improved their living situation a bit. They were still very poor, but they had a roof over their heads and some food to eat.

Aoife was grateful for the job and the free rent. She was happy to be able to help her son and make their lives a little better.

She worked hard at her job, cleaning the rooms and doing her best to make sure everything was perfect.