VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Ryoma is currently sitting behind Kurogane's desk at Ronin Fight Management, staring at the computer screen with the kind of concentration usually reserved for men who have discovered that the government has been hiding something from them.

At this point, his search history could probably convince a stranger that he is either investigating a global conspiracy or slowly becoming part of one.

Every trail leads back to England. Flu cases. Hospital admissions. Unusual outbreaks. Political developments. Anything remotely connected to public health gets dragged into his investigation, dissected, compared, and filed away in his head.

The thing is, Ryoma is no longer particularly concerned about the fate of the world. After the ridicule he received so far, his concern has gradually turned into apathy.

What frightens him now is the possibility that the future he remembers may never have existed at all. February is almost over, yet the pandemic he remembers remains stubbornly absent.

"What's going on here?" he mutters, his face pale. "The incident should have happened a week ago."

<< Are you sure it should happen last week? >>

Ryoma's eyes remain fixed on the screen. "What kind of question is that? You should be able to access all of my memories, right?"

<< I'm questioning whether things will still happen the way they did in your previous life. It's possible that everything you've done so far has already changed many things in the world. >>

"What kind of influence could I possibly have had?" Ryoma argues. "People turned me into a joke. If I were the one to start this pandemic, I'd already execute it. There's no better moment than when the entire world underestimates the threat you're about to unleash."

He keeps searching anyway. Soon, health reports are no longer enough. Political movements, international disputes, economic fluctuations, obscure incidents in distant countries. The distinction between investigation and obsession has become rather difficult to identify now.

But the more he searches, the more Hayakawa's words keep creeping back into his mind. His changing personality. The strange things he has been doing. The possibility that something may actually be wrong with him. Even to the point doubting the system voice inside his head.

After all, Ryoma considers himself a reasonably scientific person, which makes the whole situation particularly unpleasant. He has no scientific explanation for regression, no evidence that time travel is possible, and certainly no rational basis for the idea that a person could be given a second life after death.

For the first time, the possibility begins to take shape in his mind that the world may not be deviating from his memories at all. Perhaps there was never a future to remember in the first place.

Perhaps the thing that has been lying to him all this time is the one thing he has no way of escaping: his own mind.

"Eh, Ryoma…?"

Suddenly, Kurogane's voice pulls his attention away from the screen.

"What are you doing here?" Kurogane asks as he steps deeper into the room.

Ryoma tries to act normal, quickly closing the tabs and opening Ronin's social media accounts, as though he has simply been doing what any promoter would normally be doing.

"How did Kenta's fight go?"

"He won," Kurogane replies. "So did everyone else."

Ryoma says nothing after that, while Kurogane continues studying Ryoma's unusually pale expression.

Then Kurogane exhales. "What's this? Another round of research for your Global Pandemic theory?"

Ryoma immediately glances at him, his expression turning deadly serious. But Kurogane simply shrugs, with a knowing look on his face.

"You can't hide that from me," he says. "The entire internet history is stored on my computer."

He shakes his head, looking slightly disappointed. "For someone as smart as you, you should know better than to leave all those traces behind if you don't want anyone finding out."

Ryoma's jaw tightens as his right hand works the mouse, quickly deleting the browsing history. Once he is finished, he rises and walks away without saying a word.

Kurogane deliberately steps directly into his path. "It's time you put an end to all this madness."

Ryoma simply shoves him aside and continues toward the door. But Kurogane immediately grabs his arm and forces him to turn around.

"That flu pandemic isn't coming," he snaps, his voice louder and more forceful now. "I know you made up this whole narrative to draw public attention. And now that everyone is starting to see it for the ridiculous thing it is, you're here desperately trying to convince yourself that it's real."

Kurogane tightens his grip. "Wake up, Ryoma. You've trapped yourself inside your own lie, and now you're in denial because you can't accept just how stupid and ridiculous you've become."

Ryoma's gaze grows sharper, but no argument comes out of him. Somewhere deep down, he has already begun to question his own sanity.

By coincidence, Nakahara happens to be standing fairly close to the entrance of the management office and catches the last part of Kurogane's outburst.

He hears about the flu pandemic, Ryoma's fabricated narrative, but none of those details seem particularly important to him yet.

"What's going on here?" he asks flatly. "We're having a great night, but two of Ronin's top guys are arguing in here. Did I miss something?"

Ryoma shoves Kurogane's hand away and walks toward the door.

"Nothing," he says.

Nakahara sighs and simply shakes his head as Ryoma passes him and steps into the corridor.

Only a moment later, however, his aging brain finally begins connecting Kurogane's words with all the strange things surrounding Ryoma.

He immediately turns around.

"Hey, kid. Wait!"

Ryoma stops and looks over his shoulder. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Nakahara asks.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Look, your fight is only a week away," Nakahara says. "I just don't want all this media nonsense affecting your preparation. You haven't even sparred once in the past two months."

"You don't need to worry about that, Coach," Ryoma replies before turning away again. "I never sparred before beating Cabello either."

"What about your diet?" Nakahara calls after him.

Ryoma doesn't answer. He simply continues down the stairs toward the lower floor, where Hayakawa is already waiting for him.

"Time to go home, boss?"

Ryoma simply nods, and the two of them leave the building together.

After this, Ryoma doesn't return to this gym anymore, choosing instead to continue his preparations at his new residence.

At least Nakahara, Hiroshi, and Sera still come to train him there, turning the residence into something not unlike a private training camp.

After all, the final week before the fight is the hardest part of Ryoma's preparation, particularly when it comes to making weight.

It is not something he can manage entirely on his own, especially now that his trust in everything connected to the Vision Grid System is beginning to waver.

***

March 1st, 2019 — WBO Tokyo Office, Tokyo.

At least during the weigh-in, Ryoma manages to make weight without any trouble.

"Ryoma Takeda, 61.2 kilograms. Clear!"

The problem comes from the challenger. When Nikolai steps onto the scale, the number settles slightly above the allowed weight.

"Nikolai Dragunov, 61.3 kilograms. Over the limit."

A brief murmur spreads through the room. Ryoma, however, looks more annoyed than surprised. He just wants this entire session to end so he can get away from the cameras as quickly as possible.

Nikolai steps down from the scale and begins discussing with his trainers. After a few seconds, he reaches toward the waistband of his trunks, apparently preparing to strip them off.

"Hey, hey…" Ryoma immediately cuts in. "Don't even think about it. Please respect our culture here."

Nikolai looks at him, clearly confused by the objection. "If I take off the trunks, I'll be under."

"You don't need to," Ryoma replies. "You're barely over. I know you'll make weight anyway. So, official, just accept the result. No need to weigh him again."

Several officials exchange awkward glances, clearly unsure how to handle the situation.

Ryoma, however, continues to insist. "He's only 0.1 kilos over. I'm willing to accept it, and I'm the promoter. Let's not turn this into a circus. Just record the weight and move on."

After a brief discussion among themselves, the officials finally accept his request. The result is recorded, and the weigh-in is officially concluded.

The moment the announcement is made, however, Ryoma steps down from the stage without waiting for anything else. Hayakawa immediately follows him, apparently deciding on his own that wherever Ryoma is going, he should probably be there too.

The sudden departure leaves the media confused, while even members of the Ronin team exchange uncertain glances. Nobody seems quite sure what just happened.

Nikolai, meanwhile, can only stare after Ryoma before his eyes drifting toward a small gift on the table. Inside is a pack of masks, meant as both a present and a little psychological warfare. Unfortunately, it seems his carefully prepared joke has just lost its target.

After a beat, Nikolai looks toward one of his assistant trainers, giving an unsure awkward smile.

"…Don't tell me he really saw the future and knew what was inside my gift."

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