VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA

Both of Jackson’s eyebrows lift slightly this time, genuine surprise flashing across his face before amusement quickly replaces it.

“Oh?” he says with a faint chuckle. “You’re willing to let him leave for free? How generous.”

The lawyer shifts slightly in his seat, a trace of discomfort finally appearing across his face as Jackson continues smiling casually.

It’s clear he already realizes what Ryoma is doing here. But Jackson himself doesn’t seem to notice it yet.

“Of course,” Ryoma answers simply as he slowly turns his eyes toward him. “Because I don’t want to burden him with debt before his career even starts properly. You take him from us without investment, without spending a dime. So you better treat him well.”

The lawyer’s gaze slowly shifts toward Kenta, quietly trying to read the effect Ryoma’s words are having on him.

And yes, Kenta’s expression is already beginning to change little by little, the hesitation from earlier gradually giving way to something else.

The thought of leaving begins disappearing from his mind almost entirely. Only one thing remains clearly now, his father’s voice from earlier.

Where did that courage disappear to?

Right now, Ryoma is sitting directly across from one of the biggest sharks in the sport, facing a million-dollar offer without showing even the slightest hesitation. There’s no fear in him, no greed, no doubt, nothing.

Ryoma turns back toward Kenta again, his expression looking strangely calm now, almost as if he has already prepared himself for the possibility of continuing this gym without him.

“I suggest you study that contract carefully before signing anything,” Ryoma says. “And do it with a lawyer. Honestly, I’d rather help you examine it myself, explain what each clause really means and what kind of consequences come with it. But right now, with my position in this discussion, I can’t do that fairly.”

Jackson looks thoroughly satisfied with the direction the conversation is taking, the confidence never once leaving his face.

But Kenta slowly shakes his head once, his eyes closing tightly for a brief moment. And when they open again, the hesitation inside them is completely gone. Only clarity remains now.

“Ryoma…” he says, a restrained smile slowly appearing across his face. “When did I ever say I wanted to leave this gym?”

Ryoma’s expression changes too. A sharp smile slowly forms on his face, the same kind of expression Kenta has seen countless times during sparring, the look Ryoma makes whenever he feels someone finally stopped hesitating.

Across the room, Nakahara still says nothing, but relief shows clearly in the quiet way he exhales and lowers his shoulders slightly.

It’s Jackson now whose expression finally turns sour. The confidence he carried earlier fades visibly from his face as he glances sideways toward his lawyer, silently signaling him to step in.

The lawyer catches the cue immediately and rises from his seat. “Ah, Moriyama-san,” he says quickly. “About the contract proposal and bonuses, I already prepared copies for you.”

He steps forward slightly, holding the papers out toward Kenta. “You don’t need to decide this immediately. Takeda-san is right. You should study everything carefully with legal assistance. We never expected this discussion to end after only one meeting.”

But Kenta doesn’t even reach for the documents. Instead, he simply turns around and walks toward the door.

“No,” he says calmly, his hand reaches the handle. “It’s okay. I’m not leaving this gym.”

Then he opens the door, steps outside, and closes it behind him, shutting off Jackson Rhodes’ chance to persuade him any further.

Ryoma suddenly reaches for the check on the table. Before anyone can react, he tears it once through the middle, and then again.

The sound of paper ripping cuts sharply through the office before the four torn pieces fall down onto the table right in front of Jackson.

“You already got your answer,” Ryoma says coldly. “Now leave.”

For the first time since entering the gym, the smile disappears completely from Jackson’s face. The muscles around his jaw tighten hard enough to show beneath the skin, his eyes fixed on the torn pieces for a brief second before shifting back toward Ryoma with open offense.

But he reins it in. Slowly, he adjusts the cuffs of his suit, then buttons the front calmly again as if trying to recover the image he almost lost just now. He stands and walks toward the door without another word.

The lawyer immediately rises too, quickly gathering the contract documents from the table and sliding them back into his bag before following after him.

But just as he reaches the door, the lawyer suddenly stops. His expression tightens slightly, as if only now realizing something important.

He turns back in a hurry and walks straight toward the coffee table again, crouching down to collect the torn pieces of the check one by one.

He fully realizes what just happened; Ryoma’s insult has made Jackson lost his composure badly enough that he nearly walked away leaving behind a negotiable check worth one million dollars.

“Damn it, Jackson… how could you just leave this behind?”

The frustration flashes plainly across the lawyer’s face as he gathers the torn pieces carefully into his hand.

Meanwhile, Ryoma’s face shows a mild irritation, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches the lawyer pocket the torn pieces.

Reika notices that expression, but she mistakes it completely. The tension in Ryoma’s face only makes her more conscious about her own presence there, afraid he might still resent her for bringing Jackson into the gym in the first place.

Slowly, she rises from her seat. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” she says quietly before bowing once. “And… I’m relieved Kenta decided to stay.”

Ryoma doesn’t answer her, still watching the damn lawyer leaving the room. Reika lowers her eyes briefly, then quietly excuses herself and leaves the office as well.

Once the door closes behind her, with only Nakahara remain inside the room, Ryoma leans back against the sofa tiredly, one hand rubbing lightly across his face before he exhales.

“…Damn lawyer,” he mutters. “He actually picked up the torn pieces.”

Nakahara looks at him with visible confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Ryoma lets his head rest against the backrest, looking mildly annoyed now that the tension is gone.

“I was thinking about cashing that thing anyway,” he says casually. “Well… only if they actually abandoned the check there.”

Nakahara stares at Ryoma for a few quiet seconds after hearing that answer. The old man doesn’t say anything immediately, but the reaction still shows across his face little by little; disbelief first, then faint irritation, before finally settling into something closer to reluctant admiration.

Because now he understands what Ryoma was actually trying to do back there.

The entire exchange had been calculated far more carefully than it first appeared. Ryoma let Jackson frame him as someone blinded by money, then turned the conversation around at the perfect moment, making himself look willing to let Kenta go freely instead.

And in doing so, he shifted the entire weight of the decision back onto Kenta himself. There’s no pleading, no emotional persuasion, no desperate attempt to make him stay. Yet somehow, Ryoma still managed to pull Kenta back toward the gym anyway.

And even after accomplishing all that, the idiot was apparently still trying to scam someone like Jackson Rhodes with that last provocation over the torn check.

Nakahara exhales quietly through his nose before finally turning toward the door, shaking his head lightly, a small acknowledging smile forming briefly on his face.

“…Greedy bastard,” he mutters almost to himself. “You really never change.”