VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Across the street from Shangri-La at the Fort, a dark sedan sits quietly along the curb, positioned just far enough not to draw attention, yet close enough to keep the hotel’s main entrance within a clear line of sight.

Inside, Archie remains still, his gaze fixed forward, observing the flow of movement through the glass doors with steady patience. Beside him, Douglas shifts in his seat from time to time, far less composed, his attention wavering as the hours stretch on with nothing to break the monotony.

They wait, and then they keep waiting, like being stuck in a dentist’s chair with nothing but the sound of the drill and no idea when it will finally stop.

A full day passes without incident. Then another follows, just as uneventful. But not once does anyone from Ryoma’s group step outside. No morning runs, no visible training trips, no casual movements in or out of the building. The routine they had expected to study simply doesn’t exist.

By the fourth day, even Douglas starts to grow restless enough to comment on it.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, leaning back with a frustrated exhale. “What is he doing in there?”

Archie doesn’t answer. His attention remains on the entrance, undisturbed.

It is only when a van pulls up near the front of the hotel that his focus sharpens slightly. The vehicle comes to a smooth stop, and the logo along its side becomes visible even from across the street: Aqualis Labs.

Two men step out of the van and head directly into the lobby. Several minutes pass before they reappear, this time accompanied by a hotel staff member and Kurogane.

Douglas straightens a little. “Hey… isn’t that one of them?”

Archie watches without blinking. “Yeah…”

The group moves back toward the van, opening the rear doors to retrieve several boxes, which are then carried inside with care. The process is efficient, routine, and completely unhurried, as if it’s part of something already well established.

Once everything has been brought in, the doors close again. And after that, no one comes back out. The entrance settles once more into quiet stillness, as if the brief activity had never happened at all.

Douglas exhales through his nose, his confusion evident. “So what was that supposed to be?”

“Aqualis Labs,” Archie says. “Japanese company. That kid’s their main ambassador.I heard they handle his conditioning before fights.”

Douglas frowns. “So… what? They’re setting up inside?”

Archie’s gaze remains steady. “This hotel has a private training facility. High-end, fully equipped.”

He pauses briefly, connecting the remaining pieces. “If they’re bringing their own people in, then everything he needs is already inside that building.”

Douglas lets out a short, dismissive scoff. “You’re telling me he’s just going to stay in there for five weeks straight? No one does that. Sooner or later he’ll come out. Doesn’t matter how luxurious that place is… no one wants to live locked up like that.”

For the first time, Archie turns his head slightly and looks at him. He doesn’t say anything. But the look alone is enough to make Douglas shift uncomfortably before turning his attention back toward the hotel.

***

Days pass, and the pattern becomes impossible to ignore. Each morning, the same van arrives. The same two men enter the hotel, carrying equipment or supplies. By late afternoon, they leave again. And throughout all of it, Ryoma and his team remain completely out of sight.

Three days turn into a week, and nothing changes.

Douglas eventually lets out a long groan, dragging his hand across his face. “I don’t mind easy money, but this is getting absurd. At this point, I’ll die from boredom before anything actually happens.”

He glances sideways at Archie. “Don’t tell me he’s really planning to stay in there until fight day.”

Archie gives a small nod as he reaches for his phone. “That’s exactly what he’ll do. He’s disciplined. Always has been.”

His expression tightens slightly as he unlocks the screen. “Talent alone doesn’t make someone dangerous. Discipline does.”

He brings the phone to his ear. After a brief pause, the call connects.

[How’s the progress?]

Archie exhales softly. “Since he entered the hotel, there’s been no movement. Not from him, not from his camp.”

There is a moment of silence on the other end before Ramirez responds, his voice quieter, almost thoughtful.

[Three weeks left…]

Another pause follows before he speaks again.

[Archie… is there a way for you to get inside?]

Archie leans back slightly in his seat, his eyes still on the hotel. “You should’ve accepted my earlier proposal.It would’ve been cleaner at the villa.”

He lets the words settle before continuing. “But now, with this level of security, it’s more complicated. Not impossible. Just more expensive.”

Douglas turns his head toward him as Archie continues without hesitation.

“Two million. I make the kid disappear.”

The silence that follows is longer this time. When Ramirez finally speaks, his tone carries a clear edge of rejection.

[Don’t be ridiculous. I’m dealing with a rising fighter, not a state asset. That number doesn’t make sense.]

Archie lets out a faint breath, almost amused. “That’s because you’re looking at this the wrong way. You’re treating him like a small problem that needs a big solution. If he wasn’t a real threat, you wouldn’t have sent me.”

Another pause stretches across the line. Then Ramirez speaks again, calmer, more deliberate.

[I’m a businessman. Image matters. If something happens to him before the fight, it becomes a scandal. The WBO will start sniffing at my door. That’s not something I’m willing to risk.]

“Then what do you want me to do?” Archie asks, glancing once more at the hotel entrance. “I can go in. Book a room. Stay inside as a guest. You’ll have to cover the cost. For both of us.”

Silence lingers for a few seconds before Ramirez finally responds.

[Fine. But listen carefully… no guns. No bullets. You understand?]

Archie’s expression doesn’t change.

“Understood,” he says.

Then he ends the call without another word.

Douglas turns toward him immediately. “So?”

Archie lowers the phone and looks ahead, his gaze settling once more on the towering hotel across the street.

“We’re going inside,” he says, a faint smirk touches the corner of his mouth. “And we’ll take our time.”

***

At the reception desk, the check-in process unfolds smoothly. Archie stands with an easy posture, one hand resting casually on the counter, his expression relaxed. Douglas lingers half a step behind, scanning the lobby without drawing attention.

Keys are prepared, documents are processed. Everything moves with quiet efficiency. Then, at just the right moment, Archie leans slightly forward, a polite, eager smile forming on his face.

“By the way,” he says, tone light and conversational, “I heard the OPBF champion is staying here. That Ryoma Takeda. Is that true?”

The receptionist glances at him briefly, one brow lifting just a fraction. There’s a flicker of curiosity, but it disappears quickly behind a professional smile.

“I’m sorry,” she says smoothly. “I’m not familiar with the person you’re referring to.”

Archie’s smile deepens. Slowly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, tapping the screen before turning it toward her.

On it is a local article, with Ryoma’s face clearly visible, along with the receptionist girl standing beside him in a photo.

“Are you sure you don’t know him?” Archie asks gently.

The shift is immediate. The girl stiffens, her composure cracking for just a second. Her eyes flick to the image, then back to Archie, searching for something to hold onto.

“I… that…” she stammers softly, clearly caught off guard.

Archie chuckles lightly, easing the pressure just enough. “I’m a fan too. Came all the way from the States to watch his fight.”

His expression brightens, almost boyish now, filled with anticipation. “This is the biggest fight of his career, right? Once he unifies the OPBF and WBO Asia Pacific titles… the world stage is right there for him.”

He exhales, shaking his head with a grin. “If possible, I’d love to meet him. Just to show my support.”

The receptionist nods instinctively, her smile returning, though now it feels forced and uncertain. She hesitates, clearly torn, her lips parting as if she’s about to say something. But another receptionist cuts in smoothly from beside her.

“Sorry about that,” she says, her tone polite, but firm. “We’re not allowed to share any information about other guests staying in the hotel.”

Then she offers a practiced smile. “But if you’re staying with us until the fight, there’s always a chance you might run into him.”

The moment closes. Key cards are placed on the counter.

“And here are your rooms,” she adds.

A staff member steps forward, ready to escort them.

Archie inclines his head slightly. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” But there’s still a faint note of disappointment in his voice as he exhales. “Guess I’ll have to wait. I’ve been looking forward to seeing that prodigy up close.”

Douglas says nothing, simply following as they turn and walk toward the elevators behind the staff member.

***

Inside the room, the door clicks shut behind them. After that, silence settles for a brief moment.

“So what now?” Douglas finally asks, looking around. “We can’t exactly check every room in this place. And waiting to randomly run into him… That could take forever.”

“Idiot,” Archie replies calmly. He walks past him toward the floor-to-ceiling glass window, the city stretching out below. “It’s not that hard to track someone disciplined.”

He rests a hand lightly against the glass before continuing. “If he’s not resting, and not eating… then he’s training.”

Douglas frowns slightly. “The gym?”

Archie loosens his tie, then shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it toward the bed. His shoulders roll as he stretches, muscles loosening with deliberate control.

“We just need to go where he has to be,” he continues. “That’s where patterns reveal themselves.”

He takes a step back, then begins moving, light and controlled, slipping into a slow rhythm of shadowboxing.

“It’s been a while since I’ve fought,” he mutters, almost to himself. A faint smile forms at the corner of his lips. “And I’m starting to get curious… just how good that kid really is.”