VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Ryoma already understands the problem before she even sits down, and almost immediately, that insidious voice inside his head starts whispering again, instinctively searching for the ugliest possibilities in people first, as though distrust is simply its natural state.

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Ryoma exhales softly. Sometimes he genuinely wonders whether Vision Grid itself has been built to approach people with excessive suspicion from the very beginning, constantly searching for flaws before allowing trust to exist at all.

“Aisa Egawa,” Ryoma says while opening the file.

“Yes!”

“You previously worked in talent management?”

“For a short time,” she replies brightly. “But I really love sports too.”

“Boxing?”

“Ah… Combat sports in general.”

Ryoma nods once, as the system whispering to him that it has just detected fake familiarity behavior, and common interview tactic.

She leans slightly forward. “To be honest, I was really surprised when I heard someone as young as Takeda-san became CEO already.”

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Ryoma remains expressionless. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she says with another smile. “You’re much younger than I imagined.”

Ryoma raises an eyebrow. “And yet somehow older than expected too?”

The woman freezes for a fraction of a second before laughing. “Ahaha… maybe a little.”

Ryoma closes the file, feeling uneasy letting the girl stay for too long.

The problem isn’t that she’s flirtatious. The problem is that athletes are weak to exactly this kind of personality. Especially young male fighters isolated inside brutal training environments for most of the year.

Someone like her entering daily office operations would become a distraction within weeks without even necessarily intending harm.

Eventually, Ryoma stands. “Thank you for your time today, Egawa-san.”

Her smile falters slightly. “…Already?”

“Yes.”

As Toyama escorts her out moments later, he carefully shuts the door before turning back toward Ryoma.

“…Should I bring the next one?”

Ryoma stares quietly at the stack of remaining applications.

“…Please do.”

He leans back into the chair and rubs a hand across his forehead. For a brief moment, he starts questioning whether he is actually suited for this kind of position at all.

A CEO is supposed to evaluate people, build teams, trust employees enough to let an organization grow around them.

But every time his Vision Grid activates, it instinctively begins searching for weakness, inconsistency, danger, until even ordinary interactions start feeling layered with hidden motives.

Maybe the applicants are not the real problem. Maybe he is simply becoming too accustomed to viewing people through suspicion.

***

The third applicant unsettles Ryoma for an entirely different reason. The moment the man enters the office, Ryoma feels a sense of recognition before he even remembers where from.

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The memory surfaces gradually while the interview progresses. Ryoma has seen him several times before this, sitting among the closer ringside sections usually occupied by managers, sponsors, gym officials, promoters, and people involved in the business side of boxing rather than ordinary spectators.

Someone already familiar with the industry environment would normally be far more useful than ordinary office applicants unfamiliar with combat sports culture.

At first, the interview actually progresses smoothly. The man speaks calmly, carries himself professionally, and understands organizational terminology far better than the previous applicants.

Then Ryoma asks casually, “Have you worked in boxing before?”

The answer arrives without hesitation. “Not really. But I’ve always been interested in the industry though. I thought it might be interesting to pursue something different.”

And almost immediately, Vision Grid reacts, not because the answer itself is impossible, but because it conflicts with memory.

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Ryoma’s fingers rest lightly against the desk as the man continues speaking normally. He explains his previous office experience and desire for a new challenge, but Ryoma’s attention has already shifted elsewhere.

He’s questioning the man’s motive now, his intent, and the possibility that someone from a competing promotion deliberately placed him here to infiltrate the company from the inside.

Maybe the man truly is just a boxing fan who happened to attend events regularly. But by the time the interview ends, Ryoma still cannot fully relax around the man despite how ideal he should have looked on paper.

***

The fourth applicant is a male university fresh graduate, still 20 YO, dressed neatly enough but carrying the unmistakable atmosphere of someone trying too hard to appear ready for adulthood.

He talks about growth, sacrifice, loyalty, learning opportunities, and the desire to contribute to something bigger than himself with such intensity that Toyama actually looks mildly impressed.

Under normal circumstances, Ryoma probably would have admired that kind of energy too. But Vision Grid does not admire enthusiasm.

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And perhaps the most concerning part is that the young man genuinely means everything he says. That sincerity only makes Ryoma more uneasy.

A company like this cannot afford expensive mistakes made by people still learning basic judgment through trial and error, especially not while they are trying to stabilize finances, negotiate larger sponsorship structures, and survive rapid expansion all at once.

Eventually, Ryoma closes the file and looks at the young man quietly. “Nakano-kun, this company may still be small and newly established, but the scale of responsibility involved here is already larger than most ordinary office jobs.”

The applicant straightens slightly in his seat, the nervous enthusiasm in his eyes turning noticeably more serious.

“We constantly deal with events that can put hundreds of millions of yen at risk,” Ryoma adds. “Sponsors, broadcasters, outside promoters, fighter contracts, overseas travel arrangements, training camp expenses… even a small mistake can affect multiple people at once.”

He pauses briefly before continuing. “Honestly, I’m not sure you’re ready for that kind of pressure yet.”

The young man’s expression stiffens slightly, though he continues listening carefully.

“But,” Ryoma adds, “if we decide to accept interns later, and if you’re still interested by then, I may contact you again.”

Almost immediately, the applicant’s face brightens again. “Thank you very much! An internship opportunity would already mean a lot to me. I’ll gladly wait for your call.”

Ryoma studies him quietly for a brief moment before finally giving a small nod.

“All right, Nakano-kun. That will be all for today.”

“Yes!”

The young man quickly rises from his seat and bows deeply once toward Ryoma before carefully making his way toward the door.

Just before leaving the office, he stops again and gives a second bow, even more formal than the first.

“Thank you again for your time!” he says before finally stepping outside.

Ryoma slowly leans back into his chair and exhales quietly, some of the tension finally easing from his shoulders for the first time since the interviews began.

Nakano might not have been the ideal candidate they needed right now. But at the very least, this time, his Vision Grid had not filled his head with endless ugly suspicions and cynical interpretations about hidden motives or manipulative intent.

Other than repeatedly flagging the young man’s inexperience, the system had remained unusually restrained throughout the interview.

And strangely enough, that alone eases part of Ryoma’s growing concern about himself, or perhaps more accurately, about the increasingly paranoid nature of the system sitting inside his head.