Damon stood in front of the bathroom mirror, catching his breath after his morning exercise routine.
He had just returned from his run outside and was admiring the changes in his body.
Although he was still skinny, his physique now looked healthy and strong, unlike before when he appeared frail and weak.
The improvements in his diet had made a significant difference. Since his mother had taken over the rent payments, Damon had used some of the money to buy nutritious food.
He couldn't use the System's Coins to purchase food because most of it required cooking, and their motel room didn't have a stove. So, he stuck to buying food with real money.
The healthy food had added some much-needed fat and muscle to his body, slowly restoring him to a healthy state.
His height remained the same at 6'2", but his overall appearance had changed for the better.
Damon wasn't the only one benefiting from the better food.
His mother had also become healthier, looking younger and more vibrant than before. Her skin had fewer acne scars, and her eyes sparkled with renewed energy.
The motel room, once a symbol of their struggles, now felt like a home.
Damon's mother had made an effort to make the space cozy, despite the lack of decorative furniture, it felt like home.
As Damon continued to gaze at his reflection, he felt a sense of pride and accomplishment.
He had come a long way since his days of struggling to survive. His body was stronger, his mind was clearer, and his future looked brighter.
Damon moved away from the mirror and began to undress.
He took a refreshing shower, feeling the warm water wash away the sweat from his morning exercise.
As he dried himself with a towel, he thought about buying new clothes. He wanted to look nice and feel confident, but he knew he needed to talk to his mother about it first.
He got dressed in his worn-out clothes and left the bathroom.
As he entered the main room, he bumped into his mother, who was sweaty from her morning work.
She had been cleaning the motel rooms and was exhausted. Damon asked her, "Mom, I'm going to leave for a bit, is that fine with you? Do you need anything?"
Aoife shook her head, taking deep breaths. "No, don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just don't come back late, okay? I'm going to take a shower and rest up a bit."
Damon nodded and left the room. As he stepped outside, the bright sunlight hit him, making him squint.
He walked towards Joey's house, feeling the warm sun on his skin.
He didn't have a fight scheduled today, but Joey had told him yesterday that he had something important to tell him. Damon was curious and wanted to know what it was.
The walk to Joey's house wasn't short, but Damon had grown accustomed to the distance. He had walked this route many times before, and his feet seemed to move on autopilot.
As he strolled through the neighborhood, he passed by familiar faces, some of whom nodded or waved in recognition.
Damon returned their greetings with a smile or a nod, feeling a sense of belonging in this community.
Finally, he arrived in front of Joey's house, a modest single-story building with a neatly manicured lawn.
Damon walked up the path, his feet crunching on the gravel, and knocked on the door. The sound echoed through the air: KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
The door swung open, and Joey appeared, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Hey, bro! You made it!" he exclaimed, his voice warm and welcoming.
Damon smiled back, and the two friends shared a dap, their hands clasping together in a firm handshake.
Joey's hand was warm and slightly sweaty, a testament to his recent activities. Damon's hand, too, was slightly damp from his walk.
As they entered the house, Damon and Joey settled into the comfortable sofa, sinking into the cushions.
They began chatting, their conversation flowing easily, like a well-rehearsed dance. For the past five months, they had grown closer, bonding over their shared passion for fighting.
Their discussions often centered around the latest news in the UFA, analyzing fights, and debating the skills of various fighters.
They delved into the technical aspects of the sport, discussing strategies, techniques, and training methods.
Joey's eyes sparkled with excitement as he shared his insights, his hands gesturing animatedly.
....
They walked out to the backyard, the place where the fights usually happened. Damon looked around, taking in the makeshift arena. He noticed the cage that marked the fighting area, and the chairs where the spectators sat.
As he looked around, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't right.
It was like someone was about to tell him some terrible news. He felt a knot in his stomach, a sense of unease that he couldn't explain.
The backyard was quiet. The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the area. But despite the peaceful atmosphere, it felt like it would end.
He looked at Joey, who was standing next to him, and wondered if he knew something that he didn't. Joey's expression was serious, his eyes fixed on the ground.
Joey spoke, his voice filled with nostalgia, "This place has so many memories." Damon nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it does." He looked around the backyard, remembering all the fights he had in there.
Joey looked at Damon, his expression serious, and said, "My brother got the call from the UFA." Damon's face lit up with a smile, "Woah, that's great news, man! I thought you were telling me bad news, but this is amazing!"
But as he looked at Joey, he noticed that his friend's face wasn't changing to a smile.
Joey's expression remained serious, and Damon felt a sense of unease creeping back in. He thought to himself, 'Wait, why isn't Joey happy about this?'
And then Joey dropped the bombshell, "I'm closing up the fights, Damon." Damon's smile froze, and he felt like he had been punched in the gut. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.