VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

WBO Headquarters

London, United Kingdom

June 22, 2018

Long before the purse bid is scheduled to begin, the area surrounding WBO headquarters is already crowded with reporters, photographers, and television crews waiting behind security barriers.

Metropolitan Police officers work alongside WBO security at every entrance, checking credentials as a steady stream of promoters, broadcasters, and company representatives arrives from around the world.

The atmosphere feels more like a championship fight than a business meeting. Some promoters avoid the media entirely, heading straight into the building. Others stop to exchange greetings with familiar faces before going inside together, while a handful patiently answer questions without revealing anything about the bids they intend to submit.

Standing quietly near the edge of the plaza is Sergei Volkov. A dark scarf is wrapped neatly around his neck, covering part of his mouth against the lingering morning chill. The veteran trainer has arrived alone, yet instead of entering the building immediately, he remains where he is, calmly observing the activity around him.

Under different circumstances, reporters would already be surrounding the man whose fighter, Elliot Graves, is set to compete for the vacant WBC title. Today, however, nearly every camera is focused on the purse bid instead.

Only a young Japanese reporter notices him.

”Ano... Shuichi-san.”

Aki lightly taps the arm of the senior reporter beside her before pointing across the plaza.

”Isn’t that Sergei Volkov?”

Shuichi follows her gaze and blinks in surprise. Before he has time to respond, Aki is already adjusting the strap of her camera bag and starting toward the veteran trainer.

”Come on,” she says with an eager smile. ”Let’s interview him while we still have the chance.”

Aki slows her pace as she approaches before stopping for a polite bow.

”Good morning, Mr. Volkov.”

Sergei turns toward the voice. For a brief moment, he studies her face before a faint look of recognition crosses his own.

”…I believe we’ve met before,” he says. ”At Yoyogi?”

Aki immediately bows again, smiling a little wider. ”I’m honored you still remember me. I’m Aki from Tokyo’s Boxing Weekly.”

”Of course,” Sergei replies with a small nod. ”You were the young reporter asking all the difficult questions.”

Aki lets out an embarrassed laugh. ”I hope they weren’t too difficult.”

”They were,” Sergei says matter-of-factly. ”That’s why I remembered.”

Aki smiles sheepishly before letting out a small sigh. ”It’s a shame, though. I was really looking forward to seeing Ryoma Takeda and Elliot Graves share the ring one day.”

Sergei’s expression softens almost imperceptibly.

”As was I.”

His eyes briefly drift toward the growing crowd of reporters gathered outside the entrance before returning to Aki.

”But perhaps we shouldn’t discuss that here. I’d rather not give your colleagues a reason to come running over.”

Standing a step behind, Shuichi watches the exchange in silence. He had expected a formal interview request followed by polite refusals, not to see his usually energetic junior chatting comfortably with Sergei Volkov less than a minute after introducing herself.

”...Since when did she get this friendly with him?”

Clearing his throat, Shuichi finally steps forward, deciding it is probably time to steer the conversation back toward boxing.

”Mr. Volkov, I actually visited Malik Okoye’s camp in Florida a few weeks ago.”

Sergei shifts his attention toward him. ”Did you?”

Shuichi nods. ”He asked me to pass along a message if I happened to see Elliot.”

Sergei waits quietly. And Shuichi smiles before quoting it as accurately as he can.

”He said, ’Tell Elliot to spend a little less time making music. I don’t want his punches getting any weaker than they already are.’”

Aki can’t help laughing. ”...That sounds exactly like Malik.”

”He seemed very confident,” Shuichi says.

”He should be,” Sergei replies evenly.

Shuichi nods once before asking, ”And how is Elliot’s preparation going?”

Sergei is quiet for a moment before answering. ”To be honest, Elliot’s preparation hasn’t been exactly how I hoped it would be. He’s training hard, but his mind keeps drifting back to this purse bid. Almost every day he asks me to call Coach Nakahara, just so he can speak with Ryoma for a few minutes.”

”Ryoma?” Aki repeats.

Sergei nods. ”After everything that happened over the past few months, he insisted on inviting Ryoma to stay with us. He wanted to make sure Ryoma would be somewhere safe during his stay in London.”

Aki smiles warmly. ”Wow... he really cares about him.”

Shuichi chuckles. ”Still, I think he’s worrying a little too much. Once you see Ryoma again, I’m sure you’ll realize he doesn’t need that much concern.”

Sergei’s lips curve into a faint smile, as though trying to agree with the sentiment. The smile, however, never quite reaches his eyes.

Before either reporter notices the subtle change in his expression, Sergei’s attention shifts toward the road.

”...Ah, there he is.”

Aki and Shuichi instinctively turn around.

Ryoma is just stepping out of the sedan, with Hayakawa holding the rear door open for him. For the moment, none of the reporters seem to have noticed his arrival, except for Aki and Shuichi.

Without thinking twice, Aki immediately raises her hand and waves enthusiastically, her voice carrying across the plaza in cheerful Japanese.

”Ryoma! Ryoma! Ryoma! Over here!”

Ryoma turns toward the familiar voice almost instinctively. The moment he recognizes Aki, his face brightens, and he raises a hand in greeting.

Then his smile falters. He glances around just in time to realize that Aki’s cheerful call has carried much farther than intended.

Heads begin turning one after another. And within seconds, the reporters who had been scattered across the plaza abandon whatever they are doing and rush toward him.

A few even leave ongoing interviews mid-sentence, hurrying away without so much as an apology to the promoters they had been speaking with.

Watching the chaos unfold, Aki slowly lowers her raised hand. The cheerful smile on her face fades little by little, replaced by an unmistakable look of guilt.

”Ah, shoot…”

Hayakawa reacts immediately. Without raising his voice, he gives a series of sharp hand signals.

The security detail moves at once, stepping between Ryoma and the rapidly closing crowd to form a human barrier before anyone can get within arm’s reach.

It does little to stop the questions. Microphones are thrust forward from every direction as reporters speak over one another, each hoping to be heard first.

”Mr. Takeda! How confident are you going into today’s purse bid?”

”Can you tell us who’s backing your campaign?”

”Is it true you’ve partnered with a major international promoter?”

Ryoma doesn’t answer a single question. He simply keeps walking, while Hayakawa and his team calmly maintain the corridor around him, guiding him toward the entrance despite the growing crowd.

The reporters do little to make the walk any easier. They continue pressing forward, sidestepping into his path in hopes of slowing him down long enough to earn a response.

Around them, several television crews have already abandoned the chase altogether, choosing instead to report the scene live.

One reporter turns toward the camera with unmistakable excitement. ”And there he is. Ryoma Takeda, the prodigy from Tokyo who has spent the last few years becoming one of boxing’s biggest global talking points. From viral footage of his early professional fights on YouTube, to the victory that forced Jade McConnell into retirement before claiming the OPBF championship, and most recently, the dramatic footage of his survival following the attempted assassination in Manila... every step of his career has drawn worldwide attention.”

A short distance away, another reporter delivers a different angle. ”Just look at the level of security surrounding him today. Alongside the private security team that accompanied him from Japan, the WBO has deployed its own personnel to oversee his arrival and movement throughout the event. This isn’t simply preferential treatment. Following the alleged sabotage surrounding the title fight and the attempted assassinations, concerns over Ryoma Takeda’s safety remain a major topic throughout the boxing world.”

Not everyone watches the scene with the curiosity of a reporter. Scattered around the plaza, several promoters pause before entering the building, quietly observing the commotion from a distance.

While the media sees headlines, they see something far more tangible.

”Look at that.”

”Every camera just abandoned everyone else.”

”That’s the value of attention.”

”No... that’s the value of Ryoma Takeda.”

One of them lets out a quiet laugh. ”You can spend fifty million on advertising and still fail to create something like this.”

”And he hasn’t even said a word,” says the other.

”He doesn’t need to. The media is doing the promotion for him.”

Another promoter folds his arms as Ryoma’s progress grinds to a halt, swallowed once again by the growing wall of cameras and microphones.

”Whoever wins today’s purse bid isn’t just buying a title fight.”

”They’re buying the hottest name in boxing.”

”And judging by this crowd… he’s worth a lot more than most people are willing to admit.”

Today marks Ryoma Takeda’s first physical appearance before the sport’s global power brokers. Ironically, he is the last person in the plaza who needs an introduction. His reputation has already done that for him.