VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

The medical officer Kanemura has been unable to reach is, at that very moment, appearing on local television screens across Washington.

His photograph appears beside the news anchor as she begins reading the breaking report.

”Authorities in Spokane County are investigating what appears to be a fatal single-vehicle accident involving Dr. Gabriel Morales, a physician who is believed to be returning home after an overseas assignment.”

Footage of a severely damaged vehicle lying partly submerged in the Spokane River appears beside her.

”The vehicle, believed to belong to Dr. Morales, is discovered earlier today after apparently leaving the roadway and crashing into the river. Search crews have yet to locate the doctor’s body, and investigators believe he may have been carried downstream by the current.”

The anchor glances briefly toward her notes before continuing.

”However, authorities currently believe Dr. Morales is unlikely to have survived. A severed portion of what is believed to be a human hand is found lodged in one of the vehicle’s severely damaged doors. Investigators have not yet confirmed the victim’s identity, but they are continuing their search of the river and surrounding area.”

What initially appears to be nothing more than a single-vehicle accident quickly begins fueling wilder theories within the boxing community, particularly as suspicion surrounding the alleged doping of former WBO world champion Miguel Cabello continues to grow.

Kanemura’s own investigation is still incomplete, and there has been no official report or public announcement regarding the results of Cabello’s post-fight medical testing.

Even so, boxing fans around the world have already begun pointing to what they describe as strange anomalies in Cabello’s performance against Ryoma.

Across podcasts, Facebook posts, and YouTube discussions, the same moments from the fight are repeatedly dissected.

One podcast host leans toward his microphone, replaying the footage on screen. ”Look at this. Seriously, look at this. Nobody fights like this for eight rounds and then just shuts down like a switch was flipped.”

Another commentator laughs. ”The sixth round alone looks insane. Ryoma is basically copying everything Cabello does. And then they start exchanging at the same time. It’s like neither guy has any intention of defending himself.”

A Facebook post circulates beneath a clip of the fight, showing Ryoma casually walking toward Cabello before sending a seemingly ordinary punch at him, while Cabello remains standing but completely unable to do anything after most viewers believe he has already reached his limit.

”Am I the only one who thinks Cabello looked completely different from what we’ve seen before?”

Replies begin piling up beneath it.

”That’s the weird part. He never looks tired. If anything, he seems to get stronger as the rounds go on.”

”Exactly. His output keeps climbing instead of dropping. Then the eighth round happens and it’s like somebody flipped a switch.”

”That’s what bothers me. Fighters get exhausted, sure. But you can usually see it coming. Cabello doesn’t look like he’s fading at all.”

”I still can’t get over round six. Why the hell is Ryoma copying everything Cabello does?”

”And those simultaneous exchanges. Who the hell fights like that?”

”Maybe he just had a crazy camp. Not everything has to be doping. He could’ve simply gone through some insane endurance camp and then ended up facing a fighter as good as Ryoma. Those punches Ryoma throws might look ordinary, but we’re talking about Ryoma. He’s got to have something special, and whatever he does clearly has an impact. Not everything has to be doping.”

”Hey, idiot. That’s not the point. We’re not talking about what happened after the final punch. Look at what happened before it. Cabello gets dropped by one punch to the face. One short punch. He beats the count and gets back up. Then he just stands there. No reaction. No movement. Nothing.”

”Exactly. And look at Ryoma walking toward him like that. He must’ve realized something was wrong with Cabello right there.”

”Yeah. Ryoma definitely noticed something. I’m convinced he already suspected Cabello was using something, and that’s why he took the risk in the sixth round. Maybe those insane simultaneous exchanges were his way of forcing Cabello to burn through whatever the hell was in his system.”

Then, amid the endless arguments over punches, stamina, and the strange collapse in the eighth round, another comment appears.

”Wait. Did you guys hear about an accident happening to one of the medical officers from the Tokyo Dome event?”

Another user responds almost immediately.

”What is it now?”

”He’s dead. His car was found in a river in Washington.”

”Seriously?”

”Yeah. And apparently the post-fight medical testing for Cabello still hasn’t been done. The guy who was supposed to handle it left Japan before the examination. And now he’s dead. You get what I’m saying? IYKYK.”

The comment remains buried beneath hundreds of replies for only a few minutes before someone copies it into another discussion and become another trending conspiracy theory.

***

Meanwhile, Ryoma remains at his apartment, still recovering from the fight and the punishment his body has absorbed. Aramaki is staying with him, ostensibly to recover from his own injuries as well, but in practice keeping a much closer eye on Ryoma than on himself.

After the sudden headaches and the strange flashes Ryoma has experienced, Aramaki has become particularly wary of letting him do anything remotely stupid, even if Ryoma insists that he feels perfectly fine.

Aramaki glances toward Ryoma from across the room. ”Are you feeling that pain again?”

Ryoma lets out a tired sigh. ”Come on, Aramaki. You asked me that three minutes ago. And three minutes before that.”

”What do you mean?”

”Don’t play dumb. I know you keep checking the clock, and every three minutes you ask me the same damn question.”

”Well, I’m just being careful. I read online that, to make sure this isn’t something serious, I should keep checking periodically to make sure the sensation isn’t coming back.”

Ryoma shakes his head. ”You shouldn’t always believe everything you read on the internet.”

Aramaki gives a small shrug. ”Yeah, well, speaking of the internet, I heard one of the medical officers working the Tokyo Dome event was reportedly in an accident on the way home.”

”Again?”

”No, this one’s actually in the news. And now people are starting to connect it to all those conspiracy theories about Cabello doping.”

Ryoma falls silent, his expression tightening as his thoughts begin to wander somewhere Aramaki cannot quite follow.

For a while, the television continues playing in the background, carrying a special boxing analysis program from NovaLink Media. Two analysts are breaking down Ryoma’s fight with Cabello, replaying exchanges and discussing everything from that fight round after round.

Ryoma keeps staring at the screen, but he is no longer listening to a single word. Until then, his phone suddenly vibrates on the coffee table, right next to the WBO championship belt he has left there untouched since yesterday.

Ryoma picks up the phone and glances at the screen for a moment before answering the call.

”Yes, Kanemura-san. What did you find out about the examination?”

[I’ve received the results from the hospital. Just as you suspected, they found an opioid and an amphetamine in his urine.]

Ryoma says nothing for several seconds. The television continues replaying the fight as the two analysts discuss the sixth and eighth rounds.

But this time, Ryoma can see a correlation between what they are discussing and what Kanemura has just told him. He knows enough about the combination to understand what it means.

The opioid could explain why Cabello seemed so unusually resilient to punishment, muting his perception of pain and allowing him to keep fighting despite the damage accumulating in his body. The amphetamine could explain why he seemed to become more aggressive and dangerous as the rounds went on instead of showing the usual decline in performance.

Together, the two drugs could have made Cabello feel almost invincible, masking the warning signals his body was sending while the damage continued to accumulate beneath the surface.

”Do you understand now, Kanemura-san?” Ryoma says. ”Why I’ve been pushing this so hard? What he did nearly cost me the fight. I had to take a dangerous approach just to make sure I won. I started suspecting something was wrong back in the fourth and fifth rounds. That’s why I took those risks with the exchanges.”

[At least you won, right?]

Ryoma’s jaw tightens. ”Yeah. But you never know what the long-term consequences are. For the past two days, I’ve been experiencing some strange sensations in my head. Enough that I’ve started worrying about things like chronic traumatic encephalopathy or even Parkinson’s.”

He glances briefly toward Aramaki before looking back at the television. ”Of course, those risks came from the strategy I chose. But remember, Kanemura-san, I only made that choice because of the situation Cabello’s cheating created.”

There is a brief pause before Kanemura answers.

[Fair enough. I’ll include your concerns in my report, and I’ll do everything I can to convince the organization that Cabello deserves an appropriate sanction.]

”It’s not just that,” Ryoma says. ”I heard one of the medical officers working the Tokyo Dome event was reported to have been in an accident. Are you aware of that?”

[Dr. Gabriel Morales… yes. I’m quite aware of it. As a matter of fact, he was the medical officer who conducted Cabello’s pre-fight medical examination.]

Ryoma’s expression tightens. ”Don’t you find that suspicious?”

[Yes. I’ve had the same feeling.]

Ryoma watches the replay on television for another moment before speaking again.

”Maybe what I’m about to suggest will sound unfounded, Kanemura-san. But please, do everything you can not to let this stop with Cabello. For context, I was told Vaughan and Bowman went into his locker room and stayed there for quite a while.”

The line falls silent for several seconds. Aramaki remains quiet, watching Ryoma speak with the WBO executive. For a moment, he feels as though he is listening to a seasoned politician, despite Ryoma being a year younger than him.

”Kanemura-san?” Ryoma asks.

When Kanemura finally responds, his voice is more cautious.

[I understand. Let’s see what I can do. But honestly, I can’t promise I’ll be able to bring people like Vaughan and Bowman into this.]