VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA - Chapter 625: Oriental Vegas 2.0

Chapter 625: Oriental Vegas 2.0

Before Ryoma can answer, the quiet of the gym suddenly breaks apart. The entrance door swings open, followed by the unmistakable sound of a voice that seems far too loud for the early morning.

“I’m telling you, that old guy was cheating!” Okabe’s voice booms across the gym floor.

Ryohei answers him almost immediately, his tone far more amused than concerned.

“You lost because you can’t count, that’s why.”

“I can count just fine!”

“Then explain how you lost three rounds of rock-paper-scissors in a row.”

“That was strategy,” Okabe insists.

“What strategy?” Ryohei laughs. “Throwing rock every time?”

“It works eventually!”

Their voices echo easily through the gym, loud enough that even the office walls do little to block them.

Aramaki, who has been stretching near the ring, looks toward the entrance and sighs.

“Great,” he mutters under his breath. “The circus is here.”

Okabe notices him immediately and brightens. “Aramaki!” he says loudly. “Perfect timing. Tell this idiot that rock is the most reliable move in rock-paper-scissors.”

Aramaki looks at him as if considering the question seriously for a second.

“No,” he says flatly.

Ryohei bursts out laughing. “See?”

Okabe frowns. “You didn’t even think about it!”

“I did,” Aramaki replies. “And the result is still no.”

Okabe throws his hands into the air in exaggerated frustration. “This place is full of traitors.”

Before either of them can continue the argument, another voice cuts sharply across the gym.

“If you two are done talking about rock-paper-scissor, get ready.”

Kenta stands near the ring ropes, his arms folded across his chest. His expression carries none of the amusement spreading through the rest of the room.

“We’re already late for roadwork.”

Okabe turns toward him with an exaggerated wince. “Ah… the captain speaks.”

“Shoes on and warm up,” Kenta says flatly. “I’m not wasting another ten minutes because you two can’t stop bickering.”

Okabe quickly raises both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to threaten our dignity this early in the morning.”

“You never had dignity,” Ryohei replies while setting his gym bag down.

Okabe ignores him and begins pulling off his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the bench nearby.

They both begin preparing without further protest, pulling on running shoes and loosening their arms. Aramaki joins them with a quiet chuckle, already stretching his calves while watching the two of them bicker.

The lively noise of the gym slowly drifts back into the office. A moment later, Sera appears in the doorway, stops just outside the room, one hand resting lightly against the frame.

For a few seconds, his attention is focused on Kenta across the gym floor. Then he turns his head slightly toward Ryoma.

“For some reason, even the usually reserved Kenta has been unusually tense lately.”

His voice carries more curiosity than concern, but the remark is enough to make the tension in the room more noticeable.

“He has every reason to be tense,” Kurogane says, befor turning back to his laptop. “And to be impatient too. The worst part is there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Sera nods faintly before stepping into the room. “So,” he says, glancing toward the laptop, “how’s the draft for the lawsuit coming along?”

Kurogane continues typing. “I’m working on it. Although one of our leaders here thinks we should drop it.”

Sera’s eyebrows pull together immediately. He turns toward Nakahara, his expression questioning. But Nakahara simply shakes his head and gestures at Ryoma, who’s already walking over to the coffee table.

Ryoma drops onto the empty sofa with a quiet sigh, leaning back as if the discussion no longer concerns him.

Sera follows Nakahara’s gesture and looks at him. “Aren’t you going with the others for roadwork?”

Ryoma exhales slowly, the sound carrying a hint of fatigue as he settles deeper into the sofa.

“Don’t feel like it today.”

Sera scoffs. “First Kenta’s walking around like someone stole his title belt,” he says. “Now the workaholic Cruel King is skipping roadwork.”

He folds his arms, eyeing Ryoma with mild suspicion. “Is there something going on with you that I don’t know about yet?”

Ryoma doesn’t bother answering. He simply turns his head toward the coffee table where Kurogane’s laptop.

“How much are you planning to claim from the lawsuit?” he asks.

Kurogane lifts his eyes from the screen. “This isn’t just about money. It’s about dignity.”

He closes the laptop halfway and leans back slightly. “We just staged a Vegas-level event at Yoyogi,” he continues. “A double title card, international sponsors and broadcasters, full arena. That kind of promotion changes how people see us.”

His gaze shifts briefly between the others in the room. “If we want to operate at that level, we can’t keep behaving like some small gym begging for scraps. Our name has to mean something.”

He taps the laptop lightly with two fingers. “And when someone wrongs us like this, we can’t just let them walk away.”

Ryoma simply looks at him and repeats in the same flat tone. “How much?”

Kurogane studies Ryoma for a moment before answering. “Two hundred and fifty thousand US dollars.”

Sera raises his eyebrows slightly. “That much?”

Kurogane nods once. “Thirty thousand covers the direct loss from the Yoyogi event. The rest reflects the damage to the promotion and the opportunity Kenta lost in the OPBF ranking.”

The room falls quiet again. But Ryoma still does not look too impressed.

“You’re chasing two hundred fifty thousand from a man who already disappeared,” he says evenly. “Even if you win it, there’s no guarantee they could actually pay.”

He shifts slightly on the sofa, his gaze still fixed on Kurogane.

“That Sugiarto guy has vanished,” Ryoma adds. “Arman probably doesn’t have any real assets anyway. And we both know he’s also a victim here.”

His voice remains calm, almost indifferent. “With the ideology we’re trying to build in this gym, forcing Arman to carry the entire burden feels excessive.”

Kurogane doesn’t respond immediately. The manager leans back slightly, staring at the half-closed laptop while Ryoma’s words settle in.

He isn’t thinking about Arman. Nor does the argument about ideology bother him much. What crosses his mind instead is something far more practical.

Ryoma notices the hesitation and continues before anyone else can speak. “Even getting the case filed will be complicated,” he says. “Arman’s management is based in Indonesia. That means dealing with lawyers in two countries, translating documents, going through jurisdiction issues before the court even accepts the case.”

He tilts his head slightly toward the laptop. “All of that costs money too. And time. A lot of it. By the time anything moves forward, the OPBF ranking will probably change again. The whole welterweight picture could look different.”

Kurogane remains silent. Nakahara listens quietly, his expression difficult to read. Sera finally pulls a chair closer and sits down, clearly preparing to follow the discussion more seriously now.

Ryoma continues, his tone still calm but increasingly direct. “We’re not a big promotional company yet. We barely have enough staff to manage our own fighters.”

He gestures loosely toward the gym outside the office. “Instead of pouring time and resources into a lawsuit that might not even pay off, we’d be better off focusing on Kenta.”

Sera glances toward the doorway, where the voices of the others preparing for roadwork drift faintly through the gym.

Ryoma finishes the thought without raising his voice. “Find him the next fight. Fix the ranking situation the way boxing usually fixes things. Inside the ring.”

Nakahara slowly nods, though his expression remains thoughtful.

“There is another possibility,” he says after a moment. “With Kawamoto Sozen likely vacating the belt next year, the number one and number two contenders will fight for the vacant title.”

He gestures faintly toward the ranking list still glowing on the laptop screen.

“And whoever loses that fight could drop in the rankings.”

Ryoma understands the implication immediately. “If the loser drops, and the winner becomes the champion, Kenta could move from third to first.”

“Or at least to second if the commission decides to keep the loser in the top spot,” Nakahara adds.

Ryoma nods once. “Yes, but Kenta could still challenge for the title after them.”

Sera, however, folds his arms and shakes his head. “That still takes time.”

His tone carries the practical concern of a coach thinking about a fighter’s career momentum rather than the politics of rankings.

“That title fight might not even happen until next year. And if Kenta ends up getting a mandatory title shot afterward, we’re talking about at least nine months after that.”

He glances toward the gym floor outside the office. “And that’s the optimistic timeline. It could take even longer if the loser stays at number one and Kenta only moves up to second.”

The room grows quiet again as everyone processes the timeline.

Ryoma turns back toward Nakahara. “We should focus on finding Kenta fights outside the OPBF list. Keep him active without risking his position.”

He speaks calmly, but there is a clear sense of urgency in his voice. “I’d suggest we start pushing him toward the WBO. I’m worried he’ll run into the same problem I did with the WBC and WBA.”

The room grows quiet as everyone weighs the suggestion, each of them turning the possibilities over carefully.

Seeing Nakahara give the faintest nod of acknowledgment, Ryoma presses the point further.

“Has Dante Villanueva’s representative contacted us yet?” he asks.

Nakahara shakes his head. “Not yet. But Kanemura said they would soon.”

Ryoma leans forward slightly on the sofa. “If they’re really that eager to host the fight, then we should ask them to include Kenta on the same card.”

Kurogane glances up from the laptop again.

“What kind of fight?”

“A proper one,” Ryoma answers. “Top ten WBO ranking if possible. Or even better, if their promoter can arrange a title fight with the WBO Asia Pacific champion.”

Sera lets out a short scoff. “Isn’t that asking a bit too much?”

Ryoma shrugs lightly. “If they can’t do that, they should just let us host the event. We can simply ask Kanemura to include Kenta into the WBO Asia Pacific rankings. Ranked 5th would do. Then we challenge the champion ourselves.”

The corner of his mouth lifts faintly. “With Ryohei and Kenta having their title fights, we can make it triple title event. We can just create Oriental Vegas 2.0 for this.”