VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Back in the locker room, the rest of the team waits, lingering in half-conversation, half-anticipation. Sweat still glistens on Satoru’s skin, and the scent of liniment hangs faintly in the air.

Okabe, never able to hold his thoughts in, blurts first. “I heard someone from WBO earlier. What the hell are they talking to the old man about?”

He glances at Ryohei, Kenta, and Aramaki, who all just shrug, refusing to speculate.

“Whatever it is,” Kenta finally says, voice calm, “it has to be important. It’s about Ryoma, no doubt.”

Aramaki leans back against a bench, arms crossed. “Could be they’re considering putting Ryoma in the WBO world rankings. Maybe top five.”

Ryohei snorts skeptically. “He hasn’t fought any WBO-ranked opponents yet. How could that even happen?”

Sera tilts his head, cool and confident. “Doesn’t matter. They have full authority to place someone wherever they want. They don’t need to follow the usual rigid system.”

“Still…” Kurogane cuts in, voice low but pointed, “there’s no need for a corridor meeting behind the arena like that. And they’ve been gone too long already.”

Minutes stretch. The team fidgets, glancing toward the locker room door at every shadow. Then, finally, Nakahara and Ryoma appear.

Before anyone can speak, Nakahara steps forward, cutting through the tension. “We’re leaving first,” he says, voice even. “You all stay here with Satoru until the event ends.”

“Kaichou, wait!” Kurogane calls, stepping closer. “What’s going on? Does this still have something to do with the WBO guy earlier?”

Nakahara pauses, then gestures toward the exit. “Why don’t you come with us and see for yourself?”

Kurogane opens his mouth, then stops. Sera, Hiroshi, and the other fighters from their gym exchange glances, curiosity etched across their faces.

Even the visiting fighters and corner teams from other gyms in the shared locker room fall silent, sensing something important is happening.

Finally, the three of them step out, leaving the locker room filled with quiet questions, lingering tension, and the faint, electric energy of expectation.

***

After confirming that Nakahara is willing to cooperate, Kanemura decides to continue the conversation somewhere more suitable. He has already reserved a private room at Nadaman in the Shangri‑La Hotel Tokyo; quiet, discreet, and far from the distractions of the arena.

Later, Nakahara, Ryoma, and Kurogane leave the locker room and take a taxi through Tokyo’s neon-lit streets, the city passing in a blur outside the windows. The tension in the car is quiet but palpable, each of them lost in thought, anticipating the discussion ahead.

They arrive at Nadaman, where a waiter discreetly escorts them to the reserved VIP room. The door slides open, revealing Kanemura and Yasuda, already waiting. Both rise to greet them, the formality understated but deliberate.

Kanemura’s eyes flick to the new face among them, taking in the man’s posture, presence, and quiet authority. Nakahara steps forward smoothly.

“This is Kurogane,” he says. “He manages the gym, keeps operations running, and will be involved in everything from here on.”

Kanemura inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the introduction, and then gestures them to sit. With that, they are already seated inside the VIP room, the warm lighting and quiet privacy of Nadaman framing the moment just before the serious conversation begins.

***

A quiet stillness fills the private room at Nadaman, the warm light casting soft shadows across the tatami panels and emphasizing the weight of what is about to be discussed.

Kanemura leans slightly forward, fingers lightly steepled on the low table, his eyes fixed on Ryoma.

“We’ve been following your progress,” Kanemura begins calmly. “And WBO is seriously considering adding you to the contender list. Likely somewhere around seventh or sixth.”

The words land like stones on water, sending ripples through the group. Kurogane shifts in his seat, voice firm, cutting through the air immediately.

“We’re not looking to climb the WBO ladder right now,” he says. “Ryoma’s ranking in WBC is strong enough. He’ll capture that title first, then pursue the undisputed path. But WBO comes later after WBC and WBA. And then we’ll hunt for IBF, and help Ryoma becoming the undisputed champion.”

“And unfortunately, the situation is not as straightforward as you might imagine,” Kanemura replies. “I’ve already heard the details from Ryoma and Nakahara themselves.”

Kurogane leans back slightly, expression tight but controlled. “We can still test our luck with IBF,” he says, tone neutral, yet protective.

Before Kanemura can respond, Yasuda interjects smoothly, curiosity sharpening his words.

“Earlier, when you spoke of the undisputed goal, you placed IBF last. Why is that?”

Kurogane raises an eyebrow, letting the question hang for a moment, then answers evenly.

“Nothing special. Could be first, could be last. Does it matter?”

Yasuda shakes his head slightly, leaning forward, analytical. “No, it does matter. You listed IBF as the final target because, in your assessment, it’s not ideal for Ryoma to climb the ladder there. Their regulations are extremely strict; double weigh-ins, tight limits on weight gained between sessions. For a fighter like Ryoma, that system creates complications.”

Kurogane falls silent, the truth of Yasuda’s observation settling over him. It had been part of his own calculation; the invisible weight of rules and strategy that would determine the safest and most effective path for Ryoma’s career.

Ryoma leans back slightly, gaze sharp. “WBO can place me seventh, sixth, or even fifth. But honestly… and with all due respect, the activity there feels almost dormant. The fighters are busy elsewhere. The only reason the WBO belt even looks valuable now is for undisputed status. Am I wrong?”

Yasuda opens his mouth, ready to challenge, but Kanemura raises a hand, halting him gently.

“I’ll be transparent,” Kanemura says, voice calm but deliberate. “WBO is the youngest organization, and historically the least popular. We’ve made significant efforts, and over the last two decades, progress has been visible. But yes… recently it has slowed. That stagnation ties directly to the issue we touched on earlier.”

“The Guardians of the Throne?” Ryoma asks, brow furrowed.

Kanemura nods. “Their influence isn’t overwhelming yet, but the current WBO champion, Trevor Langley, is under the protection of one of them. They’ll keep him in place for a while, until a new candidate from their faction emerges. Then the champion moves up a division to chase undisputed status in Super Lightweight.”

Ryoma frowns. “Why not try for undisputed in Lightweight?”

“Because they’ve laid the red carpet for Celeb Mercer,” Kanemura explains. “Now, a replacement candidate has appeared: Miguel Carbello, WBC #3. Soon he’ll rise to WBO #2. When the current champion vacates, Carbello automatically gets the title shot against Liam O’Connel from Canada. It’s almost certain the WBO belt will end up in Carbello’s hands.”

“We’ve heard,” Yasuda adds, “that Celeb Mercer plans to unify WBC and IBF next year. Once he secures those two belts, it’ll be easy for him to claim WBO from Carbello through behind-the-scenes arrangements. After that, convincing Erzhanov to smooth the way for Mercer to become undisputed will be straightforward.”

Nakahara’s brow furrows. “All that… will it be really that simple?”

“Not entirely easy,” Yasuda admits, “but a parallel scenario exists for Aleksandr Volkov under Erzhanov’s oversight.”

“This is why our efforts to maintain fairness in the sport are so difficult,” Kanemura adds. “As for WBO, the youngest body, it feels like they only show up when undisputed status is in play. Otherwise, we might as well not exist.”

“So now you’re trying to lure Ryoma onto the WBO path,” Kurogane says. “Have him compete there instead. But what’s the difference from the other route, if one of these Guardians of the Throne, or whatever you call them, already has their foothold in the rankings?”

Kanemura folds his hands calmly. “Actually, I’m thinking of a different scenario. The unification of the OPBF and WBO Asia Pacific titles.”

Kurogane’s eyes narrow. “A unification fight against Dante Villanueva?”

“Yes,” Yasuda nods. “If Ryoma clears the Pacific region by claiming both belts, we can convince the organization to place him directly at number three in the WBO.”

“Just number three?” Kurogane asks, clearly unconvinced.

Yasuda smiles faintly. “We can’t simply place him at the very top overnight without drawing criticism. But once Trevor Langley vacates the belt, the two top contenders will fight for the title.”

“After that,” Kanemura adds, “we can move Ryoma into the number-one position, while the loser drops to number two or three. With that sequence, no one can question the ranking.”

He pauses, letting the logic settle over the table. “And if Miguel Carbello will eventually claim the belt, at that point, he won’t be able to avoid Ryoma anymore. He will either defend the title… or vacate it.”

The implication lingers quietly in the room. Nakahara and Kurogane remain silent, weighing the path laid before them.

Ryoma, meanwhile, keeps his gaze fixed on Kanemura, letting the Vision Grid System finish its analysis, waiting for its verdict.

So far, nothing signals ill intent. If anything, the two men give the impression that they need him more than he needs them.

“But why?” Ryoma finally asks. “Why go through all this for me? Why not someone else?”

“We’ve followed you for the past two years,” Kanemura begins. “Your fights, and the way your small gym operates. To me, you’re fighting the same war as we are. You’ve always entered as the underdog. You never back down, even when forced into unfavorable deals. I believe that you won’t turn into someone like Celeb Mercer, protecting a perfect record by avoiding dangerous opponents.”

Ryoma shrugs slightly. “I do want to build my own legacy. And yes, I’d like to keep my record clean. But I’m not a coward who avoids fights.”

“And you’re not controlled by any promoter,” Yasuda adds. “That’s the key. You’re independent. With you active in the WBO, we believe the division becomes far more compelling. Because you attract people, and you won’t duck anyone.”