VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

The lawyer stops for a brief moment right outside the gym entrance, one hand still gripping the strap of his bag tightly while he looks back toward the building. He feels something dangerously close to outright defeat during a negotiation.

Not because the offer was weak. One million dollars should have been overwhelming for a small gym like this. Under normal circumstances, no independent gym would willingly reject that kind of money, especially while giving up a fighter who still hadn’t become champion yet.

Even Kenta had already been leaning toward them from the beginning. That much was obvious the moment the fighter walked into the room.

The lawyer clicks his tongue quietly before striding toward the waiting car. He pulls the rear door open and slides into the seat beside Jackson almost immediately.

“We should go back,” he says at once. “We still have a chance. Moriyama clearly wants to join us. Takeda only managed to sway him emotionally at the last second. If we approach this again carefully and apply more pressure…”

“Ninety-nine percent,” Jackson cuts in calmly. “That’s how close we were.”

He slowly turns his head toward the lawyer, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

“And that kid still pushed all his chips forward with a terrible hand. That’s like bluffing with just a high card against a straight flush.”

The lawyer lowers his eyes slightly after hearing that comparison, the discomfort on his face becoming harder to hide now. Because the more he replays the negotiation in his head, the more accurate Jackson’s description feels.

Jackson lets out a quiet scoff, though there is still irritation lingering underneath it. “I already knew from the beginning that he never intended to let Kenta Moriyama leave that gym. But he played the entire negotiation like he was sincerely prepared to accept it. He even abandoned the one million dollars.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Imagine if Moriyama actually accepted our offer…”

“That boy would’ve lost everything,” the lawyer mutters quietly. “Not only Kenta… but the one million dollars too.”

“That’s exactly how insane that kid is,” Jackson says. “The nerve to use a bluff like that against me while standing in the weaker position… And that’s exactly what makes him dangerous.”

The lawyer swallows slowly now, finally understanding why Jackson and the other promoters in his consortium take someone like Ryoma Takeda so seriously.

Just minutes ago, he still thought there might be room to salvage the negotiation somehow, maybe by returning with a larger offer or stronger incentives to pull Kenta away from the gym. But now, even the idea itself feels desperate.

***

Meanwhile, Kenta remains inside the gym near the entrance, not going anywhere yet. He already knows Nakahara will not allow him to stay here long. The old man only called him over because of that discussion with Jackson Rhodes, nothing more.

He should be heading home already. But the black sedan outside still hasn’t moved from the curb, and the thought of running into those people again immediately drains his mood.

So instead, he stays near the entrance quietly, pretending to watch the others training while occasionally glancing toward the car through the glass door.

Not long after that, Nakahara approaches from behind.

“You’re still here?” the old man asks.

Kenta turns slightly and gives a small nod. “I wanted to go home, but…”

Nakahara follows Kenta’s line of sight toward the sedan outside and immediately understands. He exhales quietly through his nose before speaking again.

“I’m the one who kept telling you to focus on your recovery,” he says. “And yet I still called you here today.”

His eyes narrow slightly with mild regret. “If I knew you already decided you didn’t want to leave with them, I would’ve rejected the offer from the start.”

“No, I should be the one apologizing.” Kenta smiles awkwardly and scratches lightly at his cheek with the tip of his finger. “Because of me, you guys lost that one million dollars. I know how huge that money is. And I know how badly Ryoma needed it.”

“Well… it is a huge amount,” Nakahara admits with a scoff. “Anybody would go crazy seeing that number.”

Then he shrugs lightly. “But you don’t need to worry about us that much. Maybe you still don’t know this yet, but our Manila event actually made a ridiculous profit.”

A faint grin appears on his face. “We ended up with around 3.4 million dollars clean profits.”

Kenta immediately turns toward him with a stunned expression, his face looking genuinely stupid for a moment from sheer disbelief.

“That much?”

Nakahara nods casually. “And guess what? Your purse is getting doubled too.”

“My purse?”

Kenta points at himself instinctively, already beginning to calculate the amount inside his head. But the excitement only lasts briefly before his expression tightens again.

“Old man…” he says carefully. “If this is just to make me stay here, then you really don’t need to do that.”

“No, no,” Nakahara says while shaking his head. “This was Ryoma’s idea. He already brought it up long before the talk with those guys, right after Alvarez sent over the final revenue breakdown from Manila.”

Then he adds casually, “And it’s not just you. Aramaki’s purse got doubled too.”

Kenta’s attention shifts almost immediately after hearing that, catching Ryoma coming out from the locker room, both hands fully wrapped inside boxing gloves as he walks toward the heavy bags.

There’s no trace left from the negotiation earlier, no irritation, no lingering tension. Ryoma simply starts hitting the bag with sharp, focused combinations beside Aramaki like the entire conversation with Jackson Rhodes never even happened.

“That kid… really did that?” Kenta mutters quietly, still sounding unable to fully process it. “Honestly, with how ambitious he is, always gambling recklessly on huge things… I thought he was the greedy type.”

“Yes,” Nakahara says with another scoff. “He is greedy. But he cares deeply about this gym. And about all the fighters here.”

Nakahara folds his arms loosely while continuing. “Just look at him. With everything he’s already achieved, he still lives in that modest apartment. Almost all his money goes back into this place.”

His expression turns more thoughtful afterward. “Because he understands something very clearly. He can’t build his ambition alone. And the moment he collapses, everybody tied to him collapses too.”

Ryoma continues hammering the heavy bag relentlessly, the rhythm of his punches sharp and heavy enough that even Aramaki unconsciously starts matching his pace beside him.

Meanwhile, Okabe and Ryohei, who had spent the entire morning dying from curiosity over Jackson Rhodes suddenly appearing at the gym, eventually give up trying to figure out what happened. They simply return to their own preparation for morning roadwork.

For several quiet moments, Kenta and Nakahara simply stand there, watching how the rhythm of this place somehow always ends up moving around Ryoma.

Then eventually, Kenta notices the black sedan outside finally starting to move away from the curb. Only after the car disappears down the street does he finally relax slightly.

“I’ll head home first,” he says before reaching for the door.

“Just take my scooter,” Nakahara offers, though the faint anxiety still lingering in his voice makes the suggestion sound more like an excuse to keep Kenta nearby a little longer. “You’ll probably end up coming back here again later anyway.”

Kenta shakes his head lightly, a restrained smile appearing on his face now.

“Relax, old man… I’m not retiring anytime soon.”

He pauses briefly with one hand still holding the door handle before glancing back over his shoulder.

“I’ll come back once I’m ready.”