VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

From the mechanics of the punch and the way Cabello goes down, the referee feels the situation is dangerous enough that a stoppage is a real possibility.

But this is a world title fight, and Cabello has shown extraordinary resilience throughout the night, making the referee hesitate to end it without at least giving the champion a chance to answer the count.

”Down!” he announces, gesturing for Ryoma to move away. ”Neutral corner.”

Ryoma obeys, turning toward the neutral corner with legs that now feel heavier than they have at any point tonight.

His breathing is still unsteady, but he keeps glancing back at Cabello, assessing every detail while silently praying that the champion stays down.

”Please... just stay there.”

The referee continues the count, but the Tokyo Dome has already made up its mind. More than fifty thousand voices rise together, chanting Ryoma’s name as if the belt has already changed hands.

”RYO-MA!”

”RYO-MA!”

”RYO-MA!”

”RYO-MA!”

The journalists are already writing. Pens move rapidly across notebooks while others type on laptops and phones. There is simply too much material in this fight, and none of them want to lose an idea while it is still fresh.

But the atmosphere in the VIP section is noticeably different. The top contenders, former champions, and current world champions watching from the premium seats remain focused on Cabello, their expressions tightening with curiosity rather than celebration.

They are all asking the same question. Why hasn’t the red corner thrown in the towel? Even after that vicious shot from Ryoma, Rivera and the rest of the red corner are still standing outside the ropes, watching.

And indeed, Cabello is still trying to get up. As he slowly lifts his head, blood is already running from his nose, trickling down over his upper lip and wetting the corner of his mouth.

Cabello wipes at it with the back of his glove, and manages to stand.

”HE’S UP! HE’S ACTUALLY UP!”

”I DON’T BELIEVE IT! AFTER THAT SHOT, CABELLO STILL MANAGES TO BEAT THE COUNT!”

”THIS CHAMPION JUST REFUSES TO STAY DOWN!”

The referee steps toward him, watching Cabello closely, studies his eyes for a moment, then leans in.

”You good to continue?”

Cabello slowly brings his gloves back up and gives a small nod.

”I’m good.”

For now, both arms feel terribly heavy, trembling with a weakness he can barely hide. But he believes the sensation won’t last, just like how it has been so far.

From the red corner, Rivera watches anxiously, giving a small nod almost as if trying to convince himself as much as Cabello.

”Come on, Cabello,” he murmurs. ”You can still win this.”

Deep inside, both Rivera and Cabello cling to the same belief: whatever substance has been injected into his bloodstream back in the locker room is supposed to make him invincible.

And so far, it has done exactly what they expected. The substance has dulled his body’s response to pain and fatigue, suppressing the signals that should be forcing him to slow down.

It has allowed Cabello to keep pushing muscles that should already be giving out, forcing his body to continue working long after it has begun demanding rest.

Under normal circumstances, with him remaining disciplined with his output, it should be enough to preserve his performance well into the late rounds.

But sadly, the false sense of invulnerability had convinced Cabello that he could do anything with his body as he pleases.

The referee steps back and resumes the fight.

”Box!”

Cabello tries to move, but his body barely responds. He remains on his feet, yet his legs tremble beneath him while his arms feel heavier with every passing second.

Across the ring, Ryoma doesn’t immediately leave the corner. His legs feel heavy too, but he is nowhere near as exhausted as Cabello.

He’s now only taking a short time, studying the champion’s condition. He watches the tremor running through Cabello’s legs, the pain tightening his expression, and the faint shaking in his arms as he struggles to keep them raised.

Before long, Ryoma begins walking casually toward him, his pace almost deliberately unhurried. His left arm hangs loosely at his side while his right glove rests against his mouth as he keeps his gaze fixed on Cabello.

The commentators are still trying to make sense of what they are seeing as Ryoma continues walking forward.

”Cabello has made it back to his feet, but how much longer can the champion realistically survives in this condition?”

”That’s the big question. Ryoma has taken damage too, but…”

The commentator suddenly trails off, seeing Ryoma already close enough to touch Cabello, yet he still hasn’t settled into any recognizable stance.

”Wait... What is Ryoma doing?”

Cabello sees Ryoma casually approaching with so many openings. His mind immediately tells him to adjust his guard, and for a split second even considers setting a trap for counter.

”Ryoma’s just strolling…”

Without any setup, Ryoma drives his right glove toward Cabello’s jaw from the outside.

And Cabello simply stands there. The false sense of invincibility has completely worn off, and the decline does not come gradually.

”What’s happening to me…?”

Everything he has been suppressing surges back at once. The muscles throughout his body suddenly ache, his legs feel like jelly beneath him, and every punch Ryoma has buried into his body seems to come rushing back all at once, each impact registering in his nerves with brutal clarity.

”My legs…?”

”My arms…?

Ryoma’s glove slips through the narrow space between Cabello’s left shoulder and his raised glove, catching the exposed side of his jaw.

DHUACK!!!

Cabello’s vision flashes white as his head snaps violently from the impact.

”OH! RIGHT ON THE JAW!”

”CABELLO DOESN’T EVEN REACT TO THE PUNCH!”

Ryoma doesn’t follow up. He simply stands in front of him, watching as the champion’s body slowly loses its balance and begins collapsing toward the canvas.

”WHAT AM I LOOKING AT?!”

”RYOMA JUST WALKS UP TO THE CHAMPION AND DROPS HIM LIKE THAT!”

”HE DIDN’T EVEN SET HIS FEET! HE JUST STROLLED IN AND LET THE RIGHT HAND GO!”

For a beat, the Tokyo Dome stirs in confusion, thousands of heads craning forward as everyone tries to understand what they are seeing.

But the referee needs less than three seconds to look over Cabello before he suddenly waves both arms above his head.

The meaning is unmistakable. And the Tokyo Dome explodes into euphoria.

”IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER!”

”THE REFEREE HAS WAVED IT OFF! RYOMA HAS DONE IT!”

”THE CHAMPION IS DOWN, AND THE WORLD TITLE IS CHANGING HANDS TONIGHT!”

”WHAT A SHOCKING FINISH!”

Nakahara and the rest of the team leap into the ring, shouting and celebrating as the realization spreads through the arena.

Across the ring, Rivera remains frozen, his face drained of color, still clutching the towel he never managed to throw.

Meanwhile, Ryoma remains exactly where he is, standing beside Cabello’s fallen body. His face stays completely flat as he looks down at the champion in silence, his expression calm and almost detached amid the eruption around him.

”AFTER EVERYTHING THIS YOUNG MAN HAS BEEN THROUGH… EVERYTHING… HE HAS FINALLY REACHED THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN!”

There is no raised fist, no shout, no sudden celebration, only Ryoma standing over the man he has just defeated, quietly watching him.

”Think about the road to this moment! The sabotage, the promoter being sent to prison, that unbelievable fifteen-million-and-one-dollar purse bid, all the chaos that surrounded this fight before these two ever stepped into this ring!”

”And then tonight... we got a fight worthy of all of it! Cabello showed us a style of boxing we have never seen before! Ryoma answered by doing the unthinkable… he studied it, copied it, and turned it against the champion!”

”Knockdown after knockdown! Momentum swinging back and forth! A champion who simply refused to stay down, and a challenger who kept finding another answer every time this fight demanded one!”

”And now, after all of that... Ryoma stands alone as the world champion!”

”Ladies and gentlemen, remember this night! Because this isn’t simply a new champion being crowned…”

”THIS IS THE NIGHT A NEW LEGEND IS BORN!”