VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Ryoma remains there for a little too long. The stare lingers until Nakahara quietly walks over and whispers from behind him.

”Kid, just focus on today’s fight.”

Only then does Ryoma break his gaze. His eyes shift briefly toward Miguel Cabello, then drift to the two empty seats nearby, before finally dropping to the first step of the ring stairs. He rubs the sole of one shoe across the mat, then calmly ascends the steps.

As Ryoma slips through the ropes, the Cruel King Army falls silent as one. Thousands remain standing, their eyes fixed on the ring like soldiers awaiting their king’s next command.

Ryoma begins a light shadowboxing routine as the lights dim once more. Most of his movements disappear into the darkness, but Miguel Cabello catches one subtle change; Ryoma’s stance is noticeably lower than usual.

Then a single spotlight swings toward the red-corner tunnel. From the darkness, Liam O’Connell emerges with his team, walking calmly down the aisle without the slightest hint of theatrics.

The lead commentator chuckles. ”What a contrast between these two. On one side, Ryoma Takeda walks into the ring surrounded by an army of passionate supporters. And on the other... Liam O’Connell.”

His partner nods. ”No theatrics. No grand entrance. He doesn’t ask for attention because he doesn’t need it. He carries himself less like a prizefighter... and more like the head of a crime family walking into a private meeting, already convinced the outcome has been decided.”

As always, Liam carries himself like a professional hitman, arriving quietly to finish a job before leaving without the slightest interest in being remembered.

And somehow, thousands of spectators have already cast him as the night’s true antagonist. The conspiracy theories that that have spread over the past few weeks quietly shaped how much of the public now sees him.

”You better watch your step, gaijin!”

”You’re in someone else’s house now!”

”We know what you did!”

”We’re only letting you walk in because this is Ryoma’s most important fight!”

”You’d better fight fair today!”

”Don’t even think about pulling any dirty tricks here!”

Neither Liam nor anyone in his corner understands the Japanese insults. To them, it’s nothing more than the predictable hostility of a home crowd protecting its own fighter.

Jackson Rhodes, however, watches the scene with an amused smile. He understands Japanese enough to catch the crowd’s accusations.

”So they really believe Liam O’Connel’s camp was behind it.” He lets out a quiet chuckle. ”That’s an interesting turn of events. Let’s hope the local police believe the same thing.”

”You’d better hope so,” Logan replies flatly. ”But don’t underestimate the local police here. There’s every chance they’ve already caught the scent of the real culprit... and they’re simply choosing to work in silence.”

***

The boos and accusations continue even after the ring announcer step into the ring. A few spectators even begin throwing drink cups and snack boxes, though they fall harmlessly into the lower seating sections, nowhere near the VIP rows.

The ring announcer deliberately clears his throat into the microphone before speaking to them.

”Minna-san, please calm down,” he says in Japanese. ”Let’s not ruin today’s fight by provoking any unnecessary chaos.”

Gradually, the noise inside Yoyogi Gymnasium settles. The scattered boos fade away, the chants come to a stop, and tens of thousands of spectators return to their seats.

The ring announcer lifts the microphone. ”Ladies and gentlemen... welcome to the Yoyogi National Gymnasium here in Tokyo, Japan!”

He pauses, letting the anticipation build. ”This is your main event of the afternoon! Twelve rounds of boxing, sanctioned by the World Boxing Organization and officially designated as a final eliminator to determine the mandatory challenger for the WBO Lightweight Championship of the World!”

”And now... introducing first... fighting out of the blue corner. Representing Nakahara Boxing Gym here in Tokyo, Japan...”

”He is twenty-two years old, stands 174 centimeters tall, and officially weighs in at 61.2 kilograms. With a perfect professional record of twelve victories... no defeats... with ten of those victories coming by way of knockout!”

”Ladies and gentlemen... here is the reigning OPBF and WBO Asia Pacific Lightweight Champion...”

The ring announcer sweeps one arm toward the blue corner.

”Ryoma ’The Chameleon’ Takedaaaa!!!”

Ryoma remains expressionless as ever, with Okabe lightly patting his shoulders. Beside him, Sera and Hiroshi raise the OPBF and WBO Asia Pacific championship belts high above their heads, drawing another roar from the packed Yoyogi Gymnasium.

”Twelve fights. Twelve wins. Ten knockouts,” the lead commentator says, almost admiringly.

His partner nods. ”And perhaps even more impressive... only twenty-two years old, yet he’s already carrying two regional championships into the ring.”

”Those two belts aren’t on the line today,” the lead adds. ”But they represent the journey that brought Ryoma Takeda to the number-two position in the WBO rankings. One more victory... and the next belt he’ll be chasing is the world title.”

The ring announcer waits patiently for the cheers to settle before continuing.

”And now... introducing his opponent... fighting out of the red corner! Representing North Forge Boxing Gym, Canada...”

”He is twenty-eight years old, stands 173 centimeters tall, and officially weighs in at 61.2 kilograms.”

”He brings into the ring a professional record of thirty-one victories... three defeats... with twenty-two victories coming by way of knockout!”

”Ladies and gentlemen... the WBO’s number-one ranked lightweight contender... Liam ’the Executioner’ O’Connell!”

The hostility inside Yoyogi Gymnasium noticeably softens. A few spectators exchange surprised glances after hearing the veteran’s résumé.

Even among the home crowd, there is an unspoken acknowledgment that Ryoma won’t be facing just another fighter today.

The lead commentator nods. ”Now that’s a résumé.”

”The contrast couldn’t be more obvious,” His partner agrees. ”Ryoma Takeda is the undefeated young prodigy with only twelve professional fights. Liam O’Connell has nearly three times that experience.”

”And that’s exactly why this matchup is so fascinating,” the lead continues. ”Youth, momentum, and explosive rise... against years of experience, setbacks, and battles fought at the highest level.”

The uneasy discussion and speculation continue to ripple through the arena for quite some time, lingering even after both fighters stand face-to-face before the referee at center ring.

Ryoma’s one-centimeter height advantage is barely noticeable, but everything else about them couldn’t be more different.

Liam carries the rugged, weathered face of a battle-tested veteran, every feature hardened by years of wars inside the ring. Standing opposite him, Ryoma’s youthful features remain strikingly clean, almost model-like, untouched by the scars that usually accompany a fighter of this stage.

Side by side, the contrast is impossible to ignore. For all the belts, rankings, and hype surrounding him, Ryoma still looks more like a young man who’s never experienced adversities in his life.

The lead commentator can’t help but smile at the contrast. ”And honestly, that difference isn’t just physical. It perfectly reflects the way these two men fight.”

”Exactly,” his partner replies. ”Ryoma is all about elegant footwork, precise positioning, and defensive mastery. There are nights when he barely gets touched. Liam O’Connell, on the other hand, is a relentless pressure fighter. He’ll gladly take one punch if it means landing two of his own.”

”One man wins by making boxing look effortless. The other wins by turning every fight into a war of attrition.”

”And that’s what everyone has been waiting to see today. Two completely opposite philosophies colliding inside the same ring.”

However, the moment the opening bell rings…

Ding!

The entire arena is caught completely off guard.

Instead of circling lightly on his feet, Ryoma rushes to the center and drops into a low crouching stance.

His both gloves are raised in front of his mouth while his torso begins swaying within a tight, compact rhythm, unmistakably reminiscent of the peek-a-boo style.

The lead commentator almost blurts it out before he can stop himself. ”...Wait a second. No... that can’t be right.”

His partner leans forward. ”He’s not opening with his usual movement. He’s fighting out of a peek-a-boo stance!”

A murmur sweeps across the arena. Even the photographers at ringside hesitate for a beat, as though trying to process what they’re seeing.

Across the ring, Liam O’Connell’s advance comes to an abrupt halt. His gloves remain high, but he blinks once behind them.

”This is... new?”

Ryoma doesn’t give him another second to think. Instead of waiting for the pressure fighter to close the distance, he slips forward behind compact head movement, rolling his shoulders as he inches into range.

Then a razor-sharp one-two drums against Liam’s guard.

Dug! Dug!

And before the Canadian can answer, Ryoma shifts his weight and whips a short lead hook into the ribs.

Thud!

Liam finally reacts, chopping a sharp left toward Ryoma’s head.

But Ryoma is even quicker, leaning his torso away from the punch before snapping back with a blistering two-punch combination upstairs.

Liam only manages to cover the side of his head with his right guard.

Dug.

But Ryoma’s right hand smacks his face a split second later.

DSH!

”Whoa! Whoa! Wait a second!”

”Did you catch that? Because I certainly didn’t!”

”Neither did Liam O’Connell!”

Ryoma resets, returning to his loose stance as though he has actually given the commentators a second to catch up with the frantic pace.

”The bell rings, and Ryoma Takeda suddenly comes out with an entirely different style.”

”He’s attacking first... he’s faster than ever... and somehow he’s still landing the cleaner counters! This is unbelievable!”