Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Why Do You Fight?



Damon stepped inside, and his ears picked up the sound of people talking.

He expected to see a room full of staff members, but instead, he only saw one person sitting behind a desk.

As he looked closer, he realized it was the same man they called Mr. Steele. Damon's eyes scanned the room, trying to find the source of the sound.

That's when he saw it - a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, showing a MMA match.

The commentary filled the room, and Damon's eyes widened as he recognized the cage. It was the same one he had fought in just hours before.

He took a step closer to the TV, his eyes fixed on the screen. The crowd was cheering, and the commentators were analyzing the fighters' moves.

Damon noticed that the crowd seemed bigger than before, and he wondered if the crowd had started to fill up after his fight since his was only an opening fight.

Mr. Steele looked up from his desk, catching Damon's gaze. He smiled and nodded, his eyes returning to the screen.

Mr. Steele's voice broke the silence, his words unexpected. "Isn't it beautiful?" he said, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

Damon thought he had misheard, so he looked at Mr. Steele, seeking clarification. "Sorry, sir, I didn't catch that," he replied, his voice a bit louder than a whisper.

Mr. Steele stood up, his movements deliberate. He placed his hands on the table, his fingers splayed wide. "I meant, isn't it beautiful?" he repeated, his eyes locking onto Damon's. "The sport, for one who doesn't know martial arts, this scene would just be sweaty men busy punching each other like barbarians." He paused, his gaze intense.

Damon was about to respond, but Mr. Steele continued, his words flowing like a river. "But when you know what they're doing, you understand the beauty of it.

The room remained silent, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning. Damon's eyes locked onto Mr. Steele's, searching for a hint of what he was looking for.

But Mr. Steele's expression remained neutral, his eyes piercing but unreadable.

Mr. Steele's smile grew wider as he spoke, "You know, this is the reason I let Jake pass on without any extended help and let him go to the UFA." Damon's mind flashed to Joey's brother, and he wondered what Mr. Steele saw in Jake that he didn't see in him.

"He's a hell of a kid in the cage, and from what I've seen from you, you have the potential," Mr. Steele continued, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But his reason was taking care of his brother, that's it. Commendable, and nothing wrong with it. But it's not what I'm looking for."

Mr. Steele paused, his gaze intensifying. "Even if you're not what I want at the end of the day, if you've got talent like you do, I won't hinder your path. Like Jake Morales, your talent will be shown if you have it. But tell me, why do you fight?"

Damon's mind went blank as he searched for an answer. He thought for what felt like an eternity, but even he wasn't satisfied with the reasons he came up with.

Do I enjoy fighting? The thought echoed in his mind, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that it was true. I feel happy when I fight, does that mean I love it and enjoy it?

Damon's thoughts swirled in a vortex of confusion. He couldn't help but want to deny it.

Maybe it was because his father used to abuse him, maybe he didn't want to admit he liked fighting because it would mean he enjoyed getting abused.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he pushed it away, unsure of how to confront it.

Mr. Steele's eyes never left his face, waiting for an answer that Damon wasn't sure he had.

Or maybe an answer Damon didn't want to believe.