VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Despite the uncertainty surrounding the fight, preparation inside Nakahara Gym never slows down. As far as they are concerned, Aramaki is still fighting Serrano until someone officially says otherwise.

On top of that, April is approaching fast, bringing two international bouts that demand just as much attention: Kenta’s fight against Della Cruz and Ryoma’s own clash with Liam O’Connell.

For that reason, training continues exactly as planned.

Aramaki’s preparation, in particular, grows increasingly specific. Rather than conducting full sparring sessions, Ryoma often steps into the ring himself to recreate situations they expect to encounter against Serrano.

There is no bell, no timer, and no referee. Only Nakahara stands on the apron watching quietly while the two move around the ring at half speed, stopping whenever Ryoma notices something worth discussing.

“Stop there,” Ryoma suddenly raises a hand.

Aramaki immediately freezes. And then the discussion begins.

“One thing I probably won’t understand perfectly is Serrano’s mindset,” Ryoma says. “He’s too unorthodox for that. A lot of what he does comes from instinct.”

He then bends sharply at the waist, letting his upper body swing off-center. The motion immediately reminds Aramaki of countless Serrano clips.

“Like this.”

Ryoma shifts his torso further, almost resembling the exaggerated evasive movements once associated with fighters like Naseem Hamed.

“When he’ll do it, where he’ll do it, and what punch he’ll throw afterward are difficult to predict. That’s personal instinct.”

Ryoma then taps the side of his own waist. “But remember this part.”

He bends again. “Look carefully. When Serrano moves like this, it’s not just that his head and chest become harder to hit. They’re harder to read. Harder to predict. Most fighters end up punching where they think the target will be, and by the time the punch arrives, Serrano has already shifted somewhere else. But his balance still has to come from somewhere.”

Ryoma taps his thighs this time. “The feet.”

Then he points along the side of his waist and lower ribs. “When he’s leaning like this, both legs are busy supporting the position. They can’t move very far without risking balance. The waist and lower ribs will mostly stay in place.”

Something immediately clicks inside Aramaki’s head. “Ah… I can target that?”

Ryoma smiles. “Exactly.” He taps his own side again. “Body blow. Right here.”

Aramaki studies the angle carefully as Ryoma continues.

“Let’s assume the worst-case scenario. Let’s assume you can’t read the punch he’s about to throw. Let’s assume he successfully slips your attack.”

Ryoma bends at the waist again and gestures a short hook. “Protect your chin. Be ready to absorb anything else. Then trade with him.”

He repeats the movement slowly. This time he swings his torso leftward, showing how Serrano often exits an exchange before launching a counter.

“Usually, after something like this, your punch misses and you’re already standing slightly to Serrano’s right side.”

Aramaki nods while visualizing it. “So I just continue attacking his right side?”

“Correct.” Ryoma points between them. “Expect him to attack your right side while you attack his. That’s the exchange.”

Then he raises his glove. “But don’t copy him. Don’t bend at the waist.”

Ryoma straightens and drops slightly through his legs instead. “Keep your posture compact. Bend through your knees.”

Understanding immediately appears on Aramaki’s face. Without being told twice, he begins recreating the situation.

Ryoma bends sharply at the waist, exaggerating the motion the way Serrano often does. Aramaki reacts as though a right hook has just sailed past its target, shifting to his left and loading up for a counter left hook.

Unlike Ryoma, however, he doesn’t fold his torso. He sinks through his lead knee instead, keeping his posture compact, his balance centered, and his guard ready to fire from either side.

Nakahara watches from the apron and gives a faint nod. It is the same adjustment he had Okabe working on before his last fight, and the difference it made had been impossible to miss once the bell rang.

Ryoma points at Aramaki’s posture. “That. That’s the shape I want.” He then lightly taps his own glove against Aramaki’s. “Serrano hits hard. Nobody’s questioning that. But trust me. The force you generate from your legs and hips is always going to be greater than what he generates by swinging his torso around.”

Aramaki’s grin immediately answers it. “So you’re saying I should welcome the exchange?”

Ryoma shrugs. “I’m saying stop worrying about what he’ll hit you with. Whatever he throws, answer with something worse.”

After that, the session continues in much the same fashion for nearly two more hours. The exchange they have just rehearsed is only one of many situations Ryoma wants Aramaki to prepare for.

Sometimes they stop after only a few punches. Sometimes Ryoma interrupts before a sequence can even finish. At other times, he simply resets the position entirely and asks Aramaki to approach the problem from a different angle.

Before long, what began as sparring resembles something closer to a rehearsal, an endless series of small scenarios designed to prepare Aramaki for awkward situations Serrano might create inside the ring.

***

By the time the morning session ends, Ryohei is the first to call it a day. And as usual, Okabe follows him out without much hesitation.

Satoru lingers a little longer, spending time with several of the younger amateurs who have just arrived for their afternoon session. But once their training begins in earnest, Satoru eventually calls it a day as well.

As the gym gradually transitions into the youngsters’ and amateurs’ training hours, only Sera, Hiroshi, and Kenta remain behind.

Aramaki himself only stays for a while longer too, helping where he can, but eventually decides to head home early, eager to spend the rest of the afternoon with Nanako.

As for Ryoma and Nakahara, both are already seated upstairs with Kurogane and the rest of Ronin Fight Management’s staff, gathered around the conference table as the afternoon meeting gets underway.

“After every bill has been paid, every purse has been settled, and every tax obligation has been accounted for,” Nobusawa says, lowering the laser pointer in her hand, “Night of Revenge closes with a net profit of ¥23,184,000.”

It’s the first event organized under the newly restructured Ronin Fight Management, and in many ways, this meeting feels just as significant as the event itself.

In the past, financial matters rarely receive this level of attention. But this time is different. Copies of the financial report sit neatly in front of everyone at the table. Every major expenditure has been categorized. Every revenue stream has been broken down. The entire event has been dissected line by line into something measurable.

Ryoma and Nakahara do little more than listen. Neither of them bothers checking receipts or reviewing expense sheets. There is no calculator in their hands, no notebook filled with calculations.

Kurogane is much the same. He sits quietly with one arm resting on the table, occasionally glancing at the report in front of him while listening to Nobusawa’s explanation.

For perhaps the first time since Ronin Fight Management was established, each person in the room is focused almost entirely on the role they are actually supposed to perform.

At the center of that change stands Nobusawa, calmly guiding everyone through the numbers with a confidence that makes it difficult to remember she only joined the company last month.

“To properly evaluate the result,” Nobusawa continues, “I think it’s important to compare it against a relevant benchmark.”

Another chart appears:

SENCHOKU NO OU — OTA CITY GENERAL GYMNASIUM

“For comparison, Senchoku no Ou generated just a bit above six million yen in net profit. To be clear, Senchoku no Ou was a sold-out event. Night of Revenge wasn’t. Which means the difference comes from somewhere else.”

Another slide appears.

COST EFFICIENCY SUMMARY

Accommodation Budget

Allocated: ¥2,400,000

Actual: ¥1,580,000

Transportation Budget

Allocated: ¥1,600,000

Actual: ¥1,080,000

Hospitality Budget

Allocated: ¥1,200,000

Actual: ¥710,000

Event Staffing Budget

Allocated: ¥1,050,000

Actual: ¥780,000

Vendor & Equipment Budget

Allocated: ¥3,800,000

Actual: ¥3,120,000

Nobusawa points at the figures with her laser pointer.

“Most of these savings came from renegotiating contracts rather than cutting services. We secured lower hotel rates through group bookings, consolidated transportation routes, reduced duplicate staffing assignments, and renegotiated several vendor agreements before final approval.”

She advances to the next slide. “The total reduction from projected operating expenses was approximately ¥3,780,000. And none of those reductions produced measurable negative feedback.”

She lowers the pointer, then turns toward Ryoma with a faint smile.

“Well, does that answer your challenge, Ryoma-kun?”

Ryoma glances at the figures one more time before shrugging. “Not bad,” he says casually. “Not bad at all.”

Nobusawa clicks her tongue. “That’s it?”

“What do you want?” Ryoma asks. “A standing ovation?”

A few people around the table laugh. Then somebody starts clapping. And before long, the entire room is applauding.

Nobusawa tries to maintain a professional expression, but the satisfaction is impossible to hide completely.

“That said, I’d like to keep everyone’s expectations grounded,” she says.

The brief laughter and applause gradually fade away, and the meeting room settles back into attentive silence.

“¥23,184,000 is an excellent result for a domestic event,” Nobusawa continues. “However, in the context of what we’re planning next, it doesn’t meaningfully change our financial position.”

She presses a button on the remote. And another slide appears.

Current Available Capital: US$3,284,000

“This is our current capital,” Nobusawa says. “The problem is that Yoyogi isn’t Ota.”

She advances the slide again.

Projected Fighter Purses

Ryoma Takeda — US$1,000,000

Liam O’Connell — US$1,000,000

Kenta Moriyama — US$100,000

Alvin Della Cruz — US$100,000

“Those four purses alone represent US$2.2 million.”

Before Nobusawa can continue, Ryoma raises a hand.

“You don’t need to reserve my purse.”

Nobusawa pauses. “Excuse me?”

Ryoma shrugs. “Use it for the event. Kenta already agreed to the same arrangement. Neither of us needs to be paid before fight night.”

Nobusawa slowly nods and turns back to the screen. “Very well. Then, after accounting for Liam O’Connell and Miguel Della Cruz, our immediately available capital falls to approximately US$2.23 million. Which is certainly healthier, but it still isn’t enough to comfortably fund a project of this scale.”

Her gaze moves across the room. “We should be optimistic about Yoyogi. Just not comfortable.”