As Damon walked out of the locker room, despite the shower, he could still feel the adrenaline in him.
His mind replayed every moment, the clean strike that ended the match, the feeling of Bobby's body giving way beneath his perfectly timed high kick.
He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.
Yet, despite the victory, there was a part of him that refused to linger too long in the moment.
The next challenge was already on his mind, what will happen at the houses, coaches, the next eliminations.
Instinctively, Damon reached for his pocket to grab his phone, eager to check any messages from Lana or scroll through updates on the matches.
His hand met only an empty pocket. He paused for a second, confused, until the memory came back, no electronics allowed during the show.
He had left his phone at home with his mom purpose, knowing they would probably confiscate it if he wanted to compete.
It felt strange, almost unnatural, to be disconnected in such an important moment.
He shrugged to himself, shaking his head with a smirk.
'Guess I'll have to wait a little longer' he thought, turning his attention back to the present.
The locker room was quieter now, with some voices from the remaining fighters low, sounding far.
Damon took a moment to gather his belongings, checking his gear and making sure everything was packed neatly.
Each motion was slow, almost meditative, a way to calm the rush still coursing through him.
As he stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder.
Damon's thoughts drifted toward his system as he walked, specifically the gacha wheel he hadn't touched in a while.
There was a reason for that, after all. He was saving up for something bigger, a Mega Spin.
Unlike the regular spins, which were fairly common, the Mega Spin required ten normal spins to activate, and Damon wasn't about to waste his chances on something less.
He had his sights set on those Mega Spins, knowing the rewards could be game-changing.
Kofi threw hard punches, each one landing with a loud smack against his opponent's body and head.
The other man tried to block, but Kofi's strength was too much.
He grabbed his opponent, slamming him against the cage, then hit him with a knee to the ribs.
The crowd murmured as Kofi kept pressing forward. His opponent's movements became sluggish, barely able to stand.
Kofi backed him into a corner, then fired a right hook to the jaw. His opponent collapsed, hitting the canvas hard.
The referee rushed in, signaling the knockout. Kofi stood over his opponent, breathing heavily, his fists still clenched. The fight was over.
Damon couldn't help but think, Damn, forget about fans remembering my knockout, they'll remember this guy.
He watched Kofi's size, he was big, even for a middleweight.
Some people just had that presence, and Kofi was one of them.
Damon could already see that if Kofi decided to move up to heavyweight, he could definitely make it work.
But then, as Kofi raised his hand in victory, a friendly smile spread across his face, completely shifting his appearance.
He suddenly looked harmless, almost as if the fierce fighter from moments ago had disappeared.
As Kofi stepped out of the ring, the officials began separating the fighters. Those who had been eliminated were led to the front, apart from the group who had advanced.
A man in a suit appeared in front of them, his voice calm but firm. "Well, guys, you all performed well and showed great spirit, but unfortunately, your journey in The Supreme Fighter ends here. We'd like to congratulate those who advanced."
Damon stood still, watching as the camera panned to their faces, capturing the moment for everyone watching.
As the eliminated fighters exited, the man continued, introducing himself. "I'm Stephen Jones, and you and I will be seeing each other a lot in this show."
He paused, giving the remaining fighters a moment to process before continuing. "But enough about me. I think it's time for the moment we've all been waiting for, the appearance of the coaches and, most importantly, the team selection."
Everyone held their breath, waiting to see which fighers would be coaching them
Each fighter had their own guesses, whispers, and rumors of who the coaches might be swirling through their minds.