VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

The medical team is already surrounding Umemoto on the canvas, urgently checking his condition.

One doctor kneels beside his head, repeatedly calling his name while another doctor monitors his breathing and pulse.

”Umemoto, can you hear me?”

But there is no response. His eyes remain partially open, but they fail to focus on anything around him.

The doctor checks his pupils again, then exchanges a concerned glance with his colleague.

Then suddenly, Umemoto’s body stiffens, followed by another brief series of involuntary movements.

”Keep him still.”

The medical personnel stabilize his head and body while continuing their examination.

”He’s not responding properly.”

”Get the stretcher ready.”

”Call the ambulance. We’re taking him straight to the hospital.”

The decision comes without hesitation. They carefully transfer Umemoto onto the stretcher and begin carrying him toward the ropes.

The doctors handling the stretcher remain composed and professional, their movements controlled as they carefully transport him.

But the medical personnel following closely behind look far more alarmed. And that sight spreads through the arena, changing the atmosphere almost instantly.

Many of Umemoto’s supporters turn their attention toward Ryoma, their faces filled with hatred and contempt as they stare at the champion kneeling inside the ring.

Ryoma remains there without moving, surrounded by his corner team as they struggle to understand the strange change in him.

A beat later, Nakahara crouches down beside him, still visibly uncertain about what he is seeing.

”Kid, listen to me. The fight is over now.”

He places a hand carefully against Ryoma’s shoulder.

”You did what you had to do in there. Look at me. You’ve won.”

But Ryoma does not respond. None of Nakahara’s words reach him.

Long before the medical personnel made their decision to rush Umemoto to the hospital, Ryoma had already seen enough to understand the risk.

More than that, he had seen everything his body had done. He understood the logic behind every punch the Cruel King had chosen.

Those punches had never been thrown merely to win the fight. Ryoma understood that every shot had been measured with deliberate precision, every angle chosen with one purpose in mind.

They were meant to kill Umemoto, while using boxing itself to make it legal.

Ryoma had seen how his body was being used as a killing machine, and he could do nothing to stop it.

***

After the situation in the arena begins to settle, officials gradually fill the ring.

Ryoma is already back on his feet, surrounded by his team. His face is completely numb, but the guilt inside him has become unbearable.

The ring announcer waits until the officials finish taking their positions, then raises the microphone to his mouth.

”Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has stopped this contest following the conclusion of the tenth round! Your winner, by technical knockout… and still the WBO Lightweight Champion of the World…”

He turns toward Ryoma and raises his voice above the chaos.

”Ryoma ’The Chameleon’ Takeda!”

The announcement is followed by an eruption of noise. The entire Cruel King Army unleashes a thunderous war cry, their voices rising together like soldiers celebrating the end of a battle.

Some of the neutral spectators rise from their seats as well, offering Ryoma a standing ovation for what they have just witnessed.

The commentators continue speaking over the noise of the arena.

”What a fight we have just witnessed here in Osaka!”

”This was billed as one of the hottest world title fights of the decade, and somehow, these two men managed to live up to every bit of that expectation!”

”Ryoma Takeda and Umemoto Kimitada gave us ten rounds of unbelievable action! Technique, timing, power, pressure, counterpunching… we saw everything tonight!”

”But wait… look at the champion. He doesn’t look happy at all.”

”Well, you usually see that detachment from him after a fight. We’ve seen it before. But this feels different.”

”It does. Look at his face. He isn’t celebrating. He isn’t even acknowledging his own victory.”

”Could it be guilt?”

”I think that’s very possible. We saw the anguish on his face before this, especially after what happened to Umemoto in those final moments.”

”He has to be worried about the condition of his opponent.”

The commentators fall silent for a moment as Ryoma continues standing there with his head lowered.

”Whatever happens next, let’s hope Umemoto Kimitada will be alright.”

But Umemoto’s supporters keep staring into the ring with cold, furious expressions. Most of the Osaka journalists are doing the same, their faces carrying none of the excitement that usually follows such a spectacular title fight.

This is no longer about Umemoto losing. They have begun to see the final moments of the tenth round differently, and the anger in their eyes now carries an accusation.

Ryoma remains completely silent. His head stays lowered as Nakahara carefully wraps the WBO championship belt around his waist. He does not raise his arms, smile, or acknowledge the crowd. He does not even look at the belt.

Then, without warning, someone suddenly raises his left arm. Ryoma is slightly startled, assuming it is Kurogane trying to make him acknowledge the victory.

He turns his head, already preparing to protest. But then he suddenly freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

Standing right beside him is the Phantom Ryoma, dressed in his familiar trainer clothes with a towel draped over his shoulder.

But the grin he gives Ryoma is nothing like the expression of a trainer celebrating his fighter’s victory. It is the same cruel, delighted grin you might expect from the face of the Cruel King.

”Listen to them.” The Phantom tilts his head slightly, gesturing toward the Cruel King Army. ”They’ve followed you this far. You can’t disappoint them by standing here with that pathetic face.”

Ryoma remains stunned by the Phantom’s sudden appearance. This is the first time the Phantom Mode has ever manifested without him giving the command to activate it.

He had thought he had finally put an end to all the hallucinations and madness surrounding the Vision Grid system.

Yet now this figure has appeared on its own, casually raising Ryoma’s arm as though it has every right to be there.

As if sensing Ryoma’s confusion, the grin on Phantom Ryoma’s face slowly disappears, leaving him with a strangely solemn expression.

”Stop denying my existence. And never forget who you are.”

Still in denial, Ryoma’s expression sharpens slightly before he abruptly pulls his raised hand downward.

The strange movement immediately catches Nakahara and the rest of the team off guard. But before any of them can say a word, Ryoma has already turned away and walked toward the corner of the ring.

Hayakawa is already waiting for him below with two other members of Ryoma’s personal security team. But Ryoma gives none of them a reaction whatsoever and simply continues walking toward the aisle.

Hayakawa gives a small gesture to his men, silently instructing them to follow Ryoma. Then he turns toward Nakahara now climbing down the ring.

”We should avoid the press tonight,” Hayakawa says quietly. ”Take Ryoma straight back to the hotel. He’s not in any condition to deal with them right now.”

Nakahara glances toward the aisle where Ryoma has disappeared, his expression tightening with concern.

Hayakawa lowers his voice slightly. ”Whatever happened in that ring, he’s clearly not alright.”

Nakahara nods, accepting Hayakawa’s suggestion before asking the officials to coordinate their exit and keep the group away from the press as they leave Edion Arena.

The journey back to the hotel is completely silent. Nobody says a word, while Ryoma keeps his face turned toward the right side of the Alphard, deliberately avoiding the empty seat beside him.

Because even in that car, the Phantom Ryoma has continued to haunt him, now occupying that seat as though his presence there were the most natural thing in the world.

Just before they reach the hotel, Nakahara’s phone suddenly rings, and Ryoma continues to ignore it.

”Yeah, Kurogane. We’re heading straight back to the hotel. What’s up?”

After being silent for a moment, listening to the voice on the other end, his next words immediately draws Ryoma’s attention.

”At Tominaga Hospital? Is there any news about Umemoto?”

Nakahara falls silent again, his expression growing increasingly serious as he listens to the voice on the other end. After several seconds, he slowly lowers the phone and turns toward Ryoma.

”They’re doing everything they can to save his life. But the doctors don’t think his chances are good.”

Ryoma recoils slightly, the pressure of those words suddenly becoming unbearable.

Then he slowly glances toward the empty seat beside him, and his expression gradually hardens into cold, unmistakable hatred.

Phantom Ryoma leans back with a casual shrug, a faint grin returning to his face.

”You brought this upon yourself. All because you refused to accept what I am.”