VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Ryoma’s suggestion lingers in the air like a stone dropped into still water. Kurogane looks at the half-closed laptop in front of him, Sera leans back slightly in his chair, and Nakahara studies Ryoma’s face as if measuring how serious he actually is.

It is the kind of idea that sounds almost reckless at first. But the longer they think about it, the more practical it begins to feel.

Nakahara finally exhales and shakes his head faintly. “That plan only works if Kenta can actually get into the WBO Asia Pacific rankings. Without that, there’s no title fight to challenge for.”

Ryoma pushes himself up from the sofa, walks across the office toward the desk, his expression calm, as though the problem Nakahara just mentioned barely qualifies as an obstacle.

“That won’t be very difficult,” he says.

His hand reaches for the phone resting beside a stack of documents.

“If anything,” Ryoma adds casually, “this would benefit them just as much as it benefits us.”

Sera frowns slightly. “Benefit who?”

Ryoma lifts the receiver. “The WBO.”

He begins dialing a number from memory. After a few seconds, the line connects.

Ryoma puts the receiver on the desk, and turns the loud speaker on.

“Kanemura-san. It’s me, Ryoma.”

[Well, that’s unexpected. I didn’t think I’d hear from you this early in the morning.]

“You’re still in Tokyo?”

[ Yes. The WBO convention starts in two days. We rotate the location every year, and this time it happens to be here.]

“Then I’ll keep this short.”

[Hahaa… That sounds just like you.]

“I wanted to ask something about the WBO Asia Pacific rankings. For Kenta Moriyama.”

Kurogane quietly closes the laptop while Sera leans forward slightly in his chair, listening more carefully now.

“If the WBO really wants to keep expanding its presence in this region, adding him to the Asia Pacific rankings wouldn’t be unreasonable. Rank him fifth. That should be fair.”

[You’re being very specific. So tell me something first. What exactly are you planning, Ryoma?]

“We’re thinking about challenging the WBO Asia Pacific champion. So we can build another big card. A triple title event.”

For a moment, nothing comes from the other side of the line.

Then Kanemura laughs softly.

[That would make a very interesting card. Three titles in three divisions. I have to admit, I like the sound of that.]

Sera glances toward Nakahara, clearly surprised by how positively Kanemura responds. Ryoma, meanwhile, simply waits with quiet composure, as if he had already expected the conversation to go this way.

[I suppose the committee will be discussing the Asia Pacific list tomorrow anyway. I’ll make sure to bring his name into the discussion, along with your potential fight against Dante Villanueva.]

Ryoma nods faintly to himself. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

A quiet chuckle comes through the receiver.

[You know, Ryoma… you’re starting to sound less like a fighter and more like a genuine promoter.]

[Alright. I’ll keep your idea in mind.]

“I’ll be waiting for the good news.”

For a moment Ryoma simply stands beside the desk before placing the receiver back onto its cradle.

Sera blinks. “You really just asked a WBO executive to insert a fighter into their rankings like that?”

Ryoma turns slightly, meeting Sera’s stare without much expression.

“If they want the WBO to grow here, they’ll think about it.”

Nakahara studies him quietly for a moment, then lets out a small breath through his nose.

“Well,” he mutters, “we’ll find out soon enough.”

***

September 28, 2017

The Grand Prince Hotel New Takanawa, Tokyo

The convention hall is already buzzing with low murmurs and the shuffle of papers as delegates and executives take their seats. Large banners hang along the walls, each emblazoned with the WBO emblem and the upcoming agenda for the meeting.

Delegates from Asia, Europe, and the Americas mingle near the front, quietly exchanging notes and reviewing reports. At the center of the room, a raised dais hosts the head officials, their laptops and documents spread across the tabletop as they prepare to address the assembled representatives.

The atmosphere is professional but charged. For those in the room, this is more than a routine meeting. It is a chance to influence rankings, title opportunities, and the direction of boxing in the region.

The initial agenda unfolds predictably enough, delegates discussing rankings and title situations across Asia, Europe, and the Americas. The delegates talk quietly about scheduling conflicts, inactive fighters, and logistics for upcoming cards.

Soon, the focus shifts to a more immediate concern. Trevor Langley, the current WBO Lightweight Champion, is moving up to challenge the Super Lightweight title.

“That leaves the Lightweight title vacant,” one delegate says, tapping a pen against his chart. “We need a fight between Liam O’Connell and Miguel Cabello to decide the new champion.”

“Timing’s tight,” another replies. “We can’t rush the card, but we also can’t leave the belt empty for months. Venues, promoters… everything needs coordination.”

A third raises a hand. “We also have multiple divisions where contenders have been inactive. Some are fighting internationally, but their local absence undermines the rankings.”

“Should we remove them?” someone asks. “Or just suspend them until they’re active again?”

A quiet murmur passes through the room. Then a delegate leans forward, lowering their voice slightly.

“What about Ryoma Takeda? His performance at Yoyogi was… remarkable. The kind of drawing power most fighters can only dream of.”

“That’s right. His popularity could boost ticket sales and broadcast numbers,” another adds. “Even placing him eighth or seventh in the WBO rankings would generate media attention.”

“And if he fights consistently?” someone asks. “He could quickly become a major figure for the organization.”

The chair of the session nods, fingers steepled. “That’s the kind of influence we need right now. But we have to consider how to integrate him without upsetting the current contender structure.”

A murmur spreads through the room, followed by a question from another executive. “But what guarantees will we have he won’t become inactive too, and decides to fight elsewhere?”

The discussion stalls for a moment before a senior official directs attention to Kanemura.

“You’ve been dealing with Ryoma’s management directly, right? Tell us what you’ve learned.”

Kanemura leans forward, his expression serious. “Ryoma’s situation in WBC and WBA has been complicated. His team has tried to arrange fights for him, but they ignored him. He’s been isolated because he’s a champion who also promotes his own cards. That threatens the business of some powerful figures. If he dominates there, capital and influence will start shifting to Tokyo, and they can’t allow that.”

A quiet voice responds, “So inviting him to WBO now benefits both him and us.”

Kanemura nods, but raises a caution. “But if we place him at rank eight or seven immediately, it could backfire. Those same powerful figures will try to isolate him here too. He needs to enter with enough credibility to make the move meaningful. Otherwise, it’s pointless. I suggest rank three once he’s established.”

“Rank three? That’s too high,” another voice protests. “He hasn’t fought any world contenders yet, not even in WBC.”

Kanemura glances across the room, calm but firm. “What if he beats Dante Villanueva in a unification between the WBO Asia Pacific and OPBF belts?”

The room falls silent at the thought. One delegate pipes up cautiously, “If he wins that, he could challenge the WBO champion afterward. Wouldn’t offering him rank three beforehand be meaningless?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be that simple,” Kanemura replies. “Even if he unifies both regional titles, the big players can still try to ignore him. Opportunities are often sabotaged by those with monopolistic interests. Frankly speaking, that’s part of why WBO activity has slowed and some divisions have stagnated.”

A senior delegate nods slowly. “That explains why making WBO active and exciting has been such a challenge.”

Kanemura’s voice sharpens, leaning forward. “Exactly. That’s why we need a clear path for Ryoma Takeda, so he can challenge the champion according to the rules, where he cannot be ignored or avoided.”

He pauses, letting the weight of the words settle in the room. “We don’t have to give him rank one or a mandatory title fight immediately. Give him rank five for now. Once he unifies the belts, we elevate him to rank three. The number one and number two contenders fight for the vacant belt. When that fight concludes, we have a valid reason to move Ryoma into the top spot, dropping the loser into number two or three. The system remains fair, and the path is clear.”

Some delegates exchange uneasy glances. A few nod slowly, but their expressions betray a lingering discomfort.

Kanemura notices the hesitation and leans forward. “We should also consider putting Kenta Moriyama into the WBO Asia Pacific rankings. Rank five would suffice.”

A murmur rises. “Kenta Moriyama? Who is this guy? I barely know the name.”

“He’s currently ranked third in OPBF,” Kanemura replies, “under the same management as Ryoma Takeda. If they tried to isolate Ryoma in WBC and WBA, there’s a high risk they’ll attempt the same with Kenta. So now his team has requested a foothold here for Kenta so he can challenge the WBO Asia Pacific title.”

Another delegate leans back, frowning.

“And there’s Ryohei Yamada,” Kanemura adds. “JBC champion. Imagine a triple title event here: Ryoma, Kenta, and Ryohei. That would benefit our organization greatly.”

The room falls quiet for a few moments as the delegates consider the implications. Slowly, realization spreads; helping Ryoma doesn’t just elevate him. It strengthens the organization’s influence, creates opportunities for Kenta, and sets a precedent for Ryohei if he eventually moves to the global stage.

The ripple effect becomes clear: one calculated move here could reshape the organization’s reach entirely.