MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

In a busy city, the skyscrapers mirrored the morning light, and the sounds of people talking and car horns mixed

As city life came to life in the morning, people rushed back and forth, each with their own daily tasks to complete.

But within the the busy city, a small alleyway, hiding away between two large buildings was quiet.

It was very quiet. The only things you could hear were trash bags rustling and the garbage truck making its rounds.

Behind a large garbage skip bin, a figure laid there motionless, covered by the shadows.

The young man's dirty medium black hair was dirty and messy, his face covered with dirt and grime.

His ripped up clothes showing the hardships of life he had faced, and with his skinny frame you would think he was malnourished.

His eyes, even though closed, had dark rings, and showed exhaustion, the hard times in the streets catching up to him.

This was Damon.

Despite his youthful age, Damon's rugged appearance made him look decades older.

This was the true reality of hunger and homelessness, a truth that many in the city chose to ignore.

As dawn broke and light crept into the alleyway, Damon moved, and his eyes flickered open to show that he was still alive.

He sat up slowly, his movements stiff from the cold, hard ground.

He groaned and got to his feet, looking around the alley as if he was searching for something.

As he stood up, his bright blue eyes reflected the morning light, leaving wonder to what face was hidden under the layer of dirt, pimples, and imperfections that covered his face.

He searched the garbage bin, his hands going through the trash in desperation.

After a long time of dumpster diving, he came out with a dejected look, mumbling "fucking hell" under his breath.

But he didn't drown in his disappointment.

He had long learned that the streets were unforgiving, and no one was going to comfort or help him.

So, he understood well, he left the alley, heading to another spot in search of something to eat.

As he walked, he bumped into a man wearing a black suit, who was deeply focused in a phone call and walking in a rush.

Damon tried to sidestep, but they collided, and the man looked at him with fury, clicking his phone shut and glaring at Damon with disgust.

"What the fuck are you doing, you dirty bum?" the man spat, looking at Damon with a contempt glare. "Can't you see where you're walking? You fucking..." He turned and stormed off, not finishing his thought.

The man's rude words didn't bother Damon. He was used to being insulted and had built up a thick skin over time.

The fact that it wasn't even the worst thing he had ever experienced led him to simply forget about it.

He carried on, his eyes looking for any indication of a possibility across the streets.

The road got wider as he walked. It seemed like the tall buildings and busy streets made him feel small and unimportant.

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In a backyard, surrounded by an octagon steel fence, a middle-aged man, Chris, was yelling at a young man, Joey. "What the hell, Joey? I thought I told you to fill the card. Now you're saying we're missing a guy? What the hell is wrong with you?" Chris roared, his cheeks flushed with anger, as his voice grew higher.

Joey looked away from Chris's eyes. "Man, you did. Chris, I'm sorry. This Friday, I lost myself. Don't worry, I'll try to find someone to fill the void." He spoke quickly and shakily, and his hands were a little shaking.

Chris got a little calmer, but he was still upset. "How are you going to get them to fight? With such little time to prepare, no one will want to fight." He kept his eyes on Joey as he paced back and forth.

Joey thought fast, trying to figure out what to do. "Listen, I'll just say the prize for the winner. That should make some sucker want to fight. He's gonna be a filler anyway, not great." He spoke with confidence to try to persuade Chris.

Chris raised an eyebrow and looked doubtful. "You think that'll work?"

Joey nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure of it. I'll just post it online, and we'll get some desperate guy who needs the money. He won't care that he's going to lose."

Chris sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Okay, dude, we need a fighter soon. People will get here quickly, and the seats will start to fill up. "Go!" He turned around and told Joey to go.

Joey nodded, quickly took out his phone, and began typing. "I'll get someone, Chris, don't worry."

As Joey left, Chris couldn't help but feel uneasy about what was going on.

He knew it would be hard to find a fighter so quickly, but they had no other choice.

The show must go on, and he needed a fighter to fill the card.

Damon saw that he was now in the housing area as he walked.

People in this area were known to be poor, and anyone who seemed to be rich was often looked at with suspicion.

You either did something illegal or you did something illegal.

Damon knew people here watched out for one another; he had become used to this way of life.

As he continued walking, he saw a guy walking straight towards him, eyes glued on his phone.

Damon shook his head, thinking to himself, 'Not another one.'

He was about to step around the other guy, but they bumped into each other. The other guy turned around, his face twisted in anger.

"Watch where you're going, you fucking..." When the guy looked up and saw Damon's face, he stopped talking.

They just looked at each other for a short time, and Damon noticed the excitement on the man's face, which made him uncomfortable.

After that, the guy's face changed. He smiled and put out his hand. "Ayy man, you wanna make a quick buck?"

And these were the words of that sparked the killer Machine.