Damon finally arrived at the center, the car rolling to a smooth stop in the parking lot.
He had dropped Svetlana off at the hotel before heading out, knowing this eting was more for the fighters and coaches.
He didn't want her sitting through the waiting and formalities when she could rest instead.
When they'd first arrived in Ireland, they had only rented one car.
But once Svetlana joined them and she and Damon began exploring the city together, Victor had made the decision to rent another vehicle for himself.
Damon appreciated it, and now, as he stepped out of the car, he was ready to et Victor and find out who their opponent would be.
Damon stepped into the center, walking with purpose.
It didn't take him long to find Victor.
This was clearly the designated room for the team to wait, and as Damon entered, he noticed that nearly everyone was already present.
Well, almost everyone.
Collin NcGyver, the so-called "Pride of Ireland," was notably absent, again.
Victor stood near the corner, chatting casually with Demaien Ncguygan and his team.
Damon couldn't help but notice that Collin had skipped yet another eting.
The lightweight star had been a no-show for most of the national team's gatherings, and for Damon, it said everything about how seriously Collin was taking this.
Which was, quite frankly, not at all.
But Damon didn't dwell on it.
Collin could do as he pleased, it didn't matter to him.
He turned his focus to the people who were actually present and engaged.
Damon entered the room fully, greeting everyone with a firm handshake and a respectful nod.
When he got to Demaien, he offered a genuine smile.
Demaien Ncguygan was young, barely 19 or 20, but he had undeniable potential.
A flyweight prospect with a disciplined approach to his craft, Demaien already carried himself like a professional.
Damon had seen him train a few tis, and it was clear the guy had the right mindset.
While he wasn't signed to the UFA yet, Damon figured it was only a matter of ti if that was the path Demaien wanted to pursue.
"Damon," Demaien said with a grin, shaking his hand firmly.
"Demaien," Damon replied, nodding.
"How's it going?"
"Good," Demaien said, his tone steady. "Just waiting to see who we're up against."
One of the officials entered the room, his presence commanding attention.
His deanor and formal attire imdiately suggested he was soone important.
"It seems everyone is—" he began but stopped mid-sentence, his gaze scanning the room.
The absence of one fighter and their team was glaringly obvious.
He sighed before continuing. "It seems almost everyone is here. Well, let's move forward."
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He stepped to the front of the room, addressing the gathered fighters and coaches. "I'll explain how the qualification matches will work. These are unique and slightly different from the actual tournant format, and, honestly, they're a bit complicated. Hopefully, they'll be improved next ti."
The group chuckled lightly at his half-joking remark, easing so of the tension in the room.
"Here's how it works," he continued. "As you all know, there are four weight classes allowed in this tournant.
We've entered for three, middleweight, lightweight, and flyweight.
Now, the qualification is a team-based process. We'll face another country, and the team that wins the majority of the matches qualifies.
In other words, we have to win at least two of our three matches to move on."
One of Demaien's team mbers raised a hand. "What happens if both teams win two fights each?"
The official nodded. "Good question. If that happens, there will be one final match to break the tie. Each country will choose one fighter from their roster of four. However, the weight class for that tiebreaker match will be determined by lottery."
He shrugged, a faint frown crossing his face. "Unfair, I know. That's why I'm hoping this gets changed in the future."
He adjusted his stance, his passion for the sport evident as he continued. "Once we qualify, though, everything will be straightforward. After that stage, you'll all be competing in your respective weight class tournants. If you lose in the tournant, you're knocked out as an individual, not as a team. But if one of us loses, we won't have representation in that weight class for the rest of the tournant."
The room grew quieter as everyone absorbed the information.
"What this ans," the official said, his voice firm, "is that we have three chances to bring back the gold. And let be clear, we're aiming for all three."
Damon nodded slightly, impressed by the official's passion for the sport.
It was clear that, despite the convoluted system, this wasn't just a job for him, it was sothing he cared deeply about.
"Now," the official said, pausing for a mont to let the anticipation build, "our first opponent will be Poland."
Damon tilted his head, thinking.
He couldn't recall any notable Polish middleweights in the UFA, but that didn't an there weren't strong fighters outside of it.
The unknown was part of the challenge, but he wasn't fazed.
Victor leaned in slightly, whispering, "Poland has strong fighters in lightweight and flyweight. Demaien and Collin will have their work cut out for them."
Damon nodded again, his focus already sharpening. "Let's just win," he said simply, his calm confidence filling the room.
The official cleared his throat and continued, "The fight will take place in one week. It's a short tiline, I know, but this tournant isn't designed to drag on. You all have your careers to get back to, and we want to keep things moving."
He looked at his clipboard and began announcing the matchups.
"In the flyweight division, Demaien Ncguygan will face Poland's Natuezs Garmrond."
The room broke into polite applause, though Damon glanced at Demaien and noticed the slight tension in his teammate's posture.
Demaien's expression remained composed, but Damon could see through it, there was a flicker of nerves.
Still, Demaien gave a confident nod to the group, accepting the challenge.
The official moved on. "In lightweight, Collin NcGyver will face Niklas Lebrowski."
Damon's ears perked up at the na. Niklas Lebrowski, he'd heard of him.
A lightweight contender with a strong record of 22-2, plus one no-contest.
Damon nodded to himself.
That was no easy opponent.
But, as usual, Collin wasn't here, so the announcent passed without much fanfare.
Finally, the official turned his attention to the middleweight division. "Now, onto middleweight. Unlike us, Poland entered fighters for all four weight classes, but they will only be competing against us in three. The final matchup is…" He paused for dramatic effect, scanning the room before continuing.
"Damon Cross will be facing Poland's Jon Dlachovizc."
The na hit the room like a stone. Damon's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed it.
Jon Dlachovizc.
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