Damon's eyes widened in recognition, it really was him.
Edward Whittaker.
It had been two years since their unforgettable fight, one that Damon still considered his toughest challenge to date.
Back then, in Stockton, they had a match that put all of his toughness and skill to the test.
It was one of the hardest fights Damon had ever been in because Edward kept putting pressure on him and was just as determined. He could still remember it clearly.
He hadn't expected to see Edward again so soon, let alone here, in Victor's gym.
'Looks like that deal he made with Vic back then has finally brought him to LA'
It was strange to see a former rival training in the same facility, but it also fueled Damon's competitive spirit.
Their paths had crossed before, and now, it seemed, they were about to cross again.
But as Damon observed Edward's physique now, he realized that Edward didn't look like a middleweight, though that made sense.
Edward was still muscular, but his build was compact, not the towering frame one would associate with the heavier divisions.
At around 5'8" or 5'9", he had grown a bit taller since the last time Damon had seen him, but he was still much shorter than Damon's 6'2".
When they fought two years ago, it had been in the flyweight division.
Damon remembered how different they looked back then, he had been lanky and almost painfully skinny, while Edward had carried his muscular frame with power and confidence.
Now, Damon guessed Edward might be competing at featherweight or even lightweight.
It all depended on what felt right and natural for his body.
If Edward's movements and energy thrived at lightweight, then it would be the better fit for him, even if it meant facing opponents with a size advantage.
They had known what was at stake, and that desperation had fueled them.
Damon wanted that kind of challenge again, a rival who understood the stakes and was ready to push him to his limits.
Edward felt like the perfect person for that role, and Damon couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of testing himself against him once more.
Damon pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, refocusing on the present.
He took slow strides toward Edward and the other people working out in the gym. People who knew him turned to greet him as he walked across the mats.
A few people smiled warmly, nodding at him as he passed. Others stepped forward, patting him on the back with genuine enthusiasm.
"Great job, Damon," one fighter said, grinning. "Your performance was insane, man. Congrats on getting into the UFA."
Another gym member chimed in, "You really put on a show! We're all proud of you."
Damon felt a rush of gratitude and appreciation, a smile breaking across his face as he nodded back at them. "Thanks, guys," he replied, his voice filled with humility.
The encouragement and acknowledgment from his fellow fighters felt good, and it reminded him of the supportive community that had helped him get this far.
But his eyes drifted back to Edward, who was busy training. Damon took a deep breath, ready to see where this next chapter in the gym would take him.
He watched Edward spar, observing the way he moved with speed and precision.
Edward's fighting style was as chaotic and unpredictable as Damon remembered, a whirlwind of quick strikes and explosive energy that kept his opponents constantly guessing.
A smile spread across Damon's face, and he couldn't help but call out. "Edward Whittaker! Still got that chaotic style of yours, huh?"
Edward paused mid-movement, turning his head in surprise.
His eyes widened slightly before a grin broke across his face. "Damon Cross," he said, shaking his head. "I'd say the same about you, but I heard you've leveled up since our last fight."