VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

After the entire training session for the day is finally wrapped up, Nakahara does not say much. He simply leaves the ring, deliberate enough to make it clear he is avoiding the possibility of Ryoma deciding to add yet another extra round on his own.

This time, Ryoma does not say anything, already too tired to ask for more. By the time he steps down from the ring, the fatigue’s catching up properly.

His shoulders drop slightly as he lowers himself from the ropes, and for a brief moment he simply stands there, as if recalibrating his own body before taking another step.

That is when he notices Tachibana sitting on the bench.

”Oh, Detective Tachibana,” he greets as he walks closer. ”How long have you been here?”

”Long enough to make me feel the exhaustion,” Tachibana replies.

Ryoma exhales, then sits down heavily beside him on the bench, taking a moment to steady his breathing.

”So,” he asks, ”you’ve already met them?”

”I just came back from their training facility,” Tachibana answers.

”And?”

”Patrick Doyle… he told me a lot more than what you gave me.”

Ryoma leans back slightly. ”Does it help?”

Tachibana nods. ”A lot. He is even willing to testify in court if necessary. But it still means nothing if the perpetrators maintain that it was personal.”

”Oh.” Ryoma lets out an amused smile despite the fatigue. ”Still no confession?”

”They insist they did it because they hate you,” Tachibana replies flatly. ”They said they bet a lot on betting sites and you ruined their pick. That is their statement.”

Ryoma shrugs, gaze drifting forward into empty space, showing little interest in the explanation.

”May I see the interrogation footage?” he asks. ”You must have recorded it, right?”

Tachibana glances at him briefly. His eyes linger for a moment, studying the exhaustion in Ryoma’s face, quietly assessing how much it might affect his judgment or sharpness.

Then he exhales, takes out his phone, and opens a folder.

”Yes,” he says. ”I saved it for my own review later.”

He knows he should not be sharing it with an outsider. It goes against procedure. But after a moment of hesitation, he still plays the video and hands the phone over to Ryoma.

Keita and Shozo blink in visible confusion. It is hard for them to reconcile what they are seeing with what they know.

Detective Tachibana is not someone who bends rules lightly, especially not in an active case. Yet today, he has just handed over investigation material to someone outside the system as if it were nothing unusual.

Meanwhile, Ryoma continues watching the video with an almost relaxed expression, as if the interrogation footage is no more than casual background material.

At one point, he even lets out a faint remark.

”Have you bet before, Detective?”

”Not really.”

”Of course you haven’t. Otherwise you’d already know how bizarre their lies are.”

”I know they are lying.”

”But do you really understand how shallow their argument is?”

Ryoma pauses the video, and turns toward Tachibana. Tachibana does not respond immediately, but his silence is not empty. It is enough to invite Ryoma to continue.

”In betting,” Ryoma begins, ”you can place large amounts of money. But there are always limits. You can’t just bet endlessly without structure. The system doesn’t work like that.”

He tilts his head slightly, as if organizing the thought more clearly. ”And when I fought Dante Villanueva, the odds were already leaning toward me. My win wasn’t treated as some kind of miracle upset. It was expected. Maybe even priced in.”

His gaze returns forward. ”So think about it logically. Even if two amateurs here lost money betting against me, how much could they realistically lose? Enough to justify flying from America to Japan, tracking me down, and trying to kill me?”

Tachibana shows no reaction. He may not have considered it, but it is not difficult knowledge to obtain elsewhere.

Ryoma also does not appear self-assured about it. He simply returns to the video and plays it again.

After the first perpetrator finishes, he moves to the second. Their statements do not contradict, but their behavior differs.

The statements do not contradict each other, but the driver appears less composed, more reactive, while also being the one whose insistence on the explanation feels slightly forced and unnatural.

Ryoma accepts that a lack of contradiction could indicate truth, but he also recognizes the signs of preparation.

The reasoning could be rehearsed, built in advance in case they were captured. That means they expected risk, and prepared to maintain their story under interrogation.

Still, Ryoma does not believe this is purely money-driven. His conclusion is that they were either desperate enough to take the job regardless of consequences, or bound by loyalty strong enough that money alone cannot explain their actions.

”Have you found anything about their backgrounds?” Ryoma asks.

Tachibana nods once. ”The driver is Mark Ellis. Late thirties. Works as a subcontracted logistics laborer. No serious criminal record. Married, two children. Financially unstable, but otherwise clean.”

He pauses, then continues. ”The second is Daniel Reed. Early thirties. Multiple prior arrests in the US. Drug possession, assault, petty theft linked to gambling circuits. No stable residence. No known family.”

Ryoma studies the information in silence, then turns his attention back to the video, replaying a short segment as if rechecking something only he can see.

After a moment, an amused expression appears on his face for the first time. ”This driver seems interesting,” he says lightly.

Then he turns to Tachibana. ”Let me talk to him. Thirty minutes is all I need, and I’ll make him confess.”

Tachibana responds without changing his expression. ”I only wanted to inform you about Doyle’s testimony. I can also share a bit of their preparations.”

”I’m not interested in that,” Ryoma says. ”I’d rather hear directly from this driver guy than listen to more about Liam O’Connel.”

Tachibana keeps his flat expression and simply extends his hand, waiting for his phone back.

”Come on, Detective,” Ryoma tries again, almost casual.

Tachibana answers only with a small shake of his head. Ryoma exhales and gives the phone back without further resistance.

Tachibana pockets it, then stands up. Before leaving, he gives a short nod to Keita and Shozo.

”Make sure he gets home safely.”

Keita and Shozo immediately stand and bow, holding their posture until Tachibana has fully exited the gym.

***

Keita and Shozo follow protocol and escort Ryoma home in their vehicle. It feels less like an escort and more like a quiet procession, two officers in front and Ryoma sitting comfortably behind them. Ryoma, for his part, makes no attempt to hide how much he enjoys the arrangement.

”So, what about after this?” he says casually. ”Are you going to stay over at my place too? To be honest, I only have two rooms in my apartment. One for me, one for my mother. I don’t really mind if we all sleep in my room, but…”

”It’s fine,” Keita interrupts. ”The living room is enough.”

”At least you have a sofa and a TV, right?” Shozo asks.

”Of course.”

”That’s more than enough,” Shozo replies. ”We’ll take turns keeping watch.”

Shozo’s phone suddenly rings. He answers it and listens briefly before telling Keita to change direction on the next junction.

Ryoma notices it immediately. ”Where are you going to take me?”

Shozo turns toward him. ”Detective Tachibana wants you brought to the station. He’s arranging for you to speak with one of the perpetrators.”