"Ladies and gentlen Cellan Gustalam"
Cellan got off the scale, flexed his "muscles", and raised his arms. Even though he had a big, strong body, the boos from the crowd said sothing else.
Whatever intimidation he hoped to project was drowned out by the fans' disapproval.
Victor stood at the edge of the stage, shaking his head slightly.
Damon watched silently from backstage, arms crossed, his eyes narrowing.
The announcer's tone shifted, building excitent. "And now, fighting in the light heavyweight division for this bout, The Supre Fighter himself, Damon Cross!"
The cheers from the crowd were very different from the angry looks Cellan had gotten earlier. As soon as Damon walked out onto the stage, the crowd went crazy.
He walked with calm confidence, his shoulders relaxed as he approached the scale.
So fans yelled his na as the cheers got louder. Even though Damon didn't smile, the sides of his mouth moved a little.
Victor stood by the curtain, watching Damon closely. Despite his reservations, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride.
Damon had grown into a confident man for the past few years, he never had a son... but seeing this personally he felt happy for him.
Damon removed his shirt, revealing his lean, chiseled fra.
The cheers from the crowd got louder, and Damon flexed a little before getting on the scale. The speaker bent down to check the weight.
"185 pounds for Damon Cross!"
The crowd roared in approval, the cheers echoing through the small venue.
Damon took a step forward and faced Cellan Gustalam for the formal stare down. He stood still but deliberately.
The energy in the room shifted instantly.
The crowd roared, their cheers unmistakably directed at Damon, while scattered boos rained down on Cellan, a clear reflection of the fans' opinion of the fight.
Standing inches apart, Damon towered over Cellan with his 6'2" fra, the height difference glaring as Cellan, at 5'9", tried to hold his ground.
Damon's gaze locked onto Cellan's eyes, his expression cold and unwavering.
Any respect he'd once held for Cellan had evaporated the mont he saw the weigh-in results.
Fifteen pounds overweight.
A lack of discipline.
No respect for the sport.
The sa had happened with Kofi but that was nothing, extra weight that wouldn't make a difference, but 5 upward was just different in his book.
Cellan tried to match Damon's intensity, puffing out his chest and flexing slightly, his broader fra giving him a physical edge.
But the weight difference didn't intimidate Damon.
In fact, it fueled him.
'This is fine'
A faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
'When I win, this will only make the victory sweeter.'
He let the mont sink in.
The circumstances couldn't be better.
He was a new face in the UFA, taking on a last-minute fight against a heavier, more experienced opponent ranked #15 in the middleweight division.
The narrative was already writing itself: underdog triumphs against the odds.
More people yelled, and the noise was a mix of respect for Damon and disgust at Cellan's lack of professionalism.
Damon's mind filtered out the noise, but the cheers bolstered his focus. He didn't need the crowd to validate his confidence, but their support added fuel to the fire burning inside him.
Cellan's lips twitched, as if to say sothing, but Damon's unyielding stare silenced any words before they ford.
Instead, Cellan clenched his fists, trying to look imposing. Damon didn't blink.
The announcer's voice cut through the noise. "Ladies and gentlen, Damon Cross and Cellan Gustalam!"
As the crowd erupted again, Damon extended his hand. Cellan hesitated for a brief mont before shaking it.
Turning toward the crowd for photos, Damon's face remained stoic, though inwardly, he was already visualizing the fight.
Victor stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the exchange. He caught Damon's eye for a brief mont, giving him a subtle nod of approval.
Damon returned it with the slightest tilt of his head, a silent acknowledgnt that they both knew what had to be done.
In Damon's mind what he thought about Cellan before hadn't changed... it was the sa... he would be his stepping stone to higher grounds.
The announcer moved between the fighters, microphone in hand, and approached Cellan first. "Cellan Gustalam, you ca into this fight expecting another opponent, then got a replacent, but you also ca in overweight. What's going on?"
Cellan offered a nervous smile, shifting slightly on his feet. The crowd's murmurs didn't make it easier. "Uh, yeah, this training camp was hard, you know. And when I heard my first opponent was doping, I thought they were gonna cancel it. When I got the news about Damon stepping in, it just kinda…happened. But hey, we're here now."
The response earned a few scattered boos, but Cellan kept his composure, though the sha on his face was clear.
The announcer nodded, not pushing further. "Cellan Gustalam, ladies and gentlen." The applause was lukewarm at best.
Turning to Damon, the announcer's tone shifted, the microphone now pointing toward the Supre Fighter winner. "Damon Cross, you recently won The Supre Fighter show and beca the Supre Fighter. Yet, less than a week later, you accepted another fight. Now, on top of that, you're dealing with an opponent who missed weight, and you still chose to continue. Everyone's wondering, including , where does your confidence co from? Cellan isn't just any fighter. He's ranked number 15."
Damon nodded, taking a mont to gather his response. His expression was calm, his posture radiating quiet confidence. "I've fought bigger guys before, maybe not as skilled, but I've spent my ti studying Cellan. Every move, every strength, every weakness. This weight miss? It might've been unexpected, but it doesn't change anything for . I'll still co out on top."
The crowd erupted into cheers, Damon's conviction clear and cutting through any lingering doubt.
The announcer smiled, clearly impressed. "That's amazing. Thank you so much, Damon."
He stepped back, addressing the audience one last ti. "Damon Cross and Cellan Gustalam, ladies and gentlen! Co-main event! Don't miss it!"
The crowd's applause and cheers swelled as Damon and Cellan posed one final ti, before turning to head backstage.
This fight was officially on.
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