"Seven matches last year, and I just fought recently," Damon echoed, his voice calm. "Yeah, I get it, but–"
Victor cut him off, raising a hand. "No buts, kid. You've been grinding non-stop. You're not a machine. Your body needs time to recover properly, even if you feel fine right now."
Damon frowned, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest.
He understood what Victor was saying, but the itch to fight was strong.
Fighting wasn't just something he did, it was who he was.
"I get what you're saying," Damon admitted, "but three weeks is plenty of time to prepare. It's not like I'd be coming off the couch. I've been training every day."
Victor sighed, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together on the desk. "It's not just about being physically ready, kid. Mentally, you've gotta be sharp too. You're climbing the ranks fast, but burnout is real, and you don't want to take unnecessary risks, especially on short notice. One bad performance could set you back."
