[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda":3,"chapter-vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-chapter-229":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","VISION GRID SYSTEM: THE COMEBACK OF RYOMA TAKEDA",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},730333,969,"Chapter 229: When the Joker Turns Ugly","vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-chapter-229",229,"\u003Cp>The lights dim over Korakuen Hall. The air thickens as the ring announcer introducing Kobo for his first ten-rounder fight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ladies and gentlemen, introducing our uprising star, fighting out of the red corner! Nineteen years old, standing at one-seventy-five centimeters, officially weighing in at 63.4 kilograms. He enters the ring tonight with an undefeated record; four fights, four wins, all by knockout!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hand cuts through the air toward the red corner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Representing Minato Bayside Gym... Kobo Maruyama!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the applause that follows is thin, polite, almost hollow. And Kobo doesn’t raise his gloves, doesn’t even blink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His chest still moves fast, his breathing uneven. The announcer’s voice barely registers. Everything around him feels muffled, distant, like he’s underwater.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the ring announcer leaves, the referee finally gestures sharply, callin both fighters to the center.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ryohei moves first, calm and deliberate, gloves hanging loose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Kobo doesn’t move until the ref calls again, firmer this time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Red Corner! To the center!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sound finally pierces his haze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo trudges forward, each step heavier than the one before. His gloves feel like anchors. His heart beats like a drum out of rhythm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The commentators fill the silence, their voices hushed but cutting through the moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Kobo Maruyama, nineteen years old, undefeated, all knockouts. One of Minato’s brightest prospects.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yeah, and what’s interesting... his career path mirrors Ryoma Takeda’s. Same high school, Kamisaka, same two-time Interhigh medalist. I even heard Minato pushed his A-license early by telling JBC he’s ’the same breed’ as Takeda.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Well...\" The first one exhales softly. \"We’ll see if he really is... or if he’s just wearing the same skin.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The referee raises both hands, \"Alright, gentlemen. You know the rules, obey my commands at all times, protect yourselves, and fight fair. Now, touch gloves.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo hesitates for a heartbeat. He’s done this ritual countless times, four pro bouts, dozens of amateurs, but never like this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His expression wavers between focus and fear. He extends his right glove, arm trembling just slightly, trying to keep the motion steady.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For once, the swagger that usually coats his every move is gone. He looks less like a knockout artist and more like a schoolboy caught out of his depth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Ryohei doesn’t move. His gloves hang loose by his sides, his eyes locked on Kobo’s face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The silence stretches, and the crowd senses it. Even the referee pauses, unsure whether to step between them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo’s uncertain smile falters. His gaze lifts slowly, and finally meeting Ryohei’s eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s when Ryohei finally moves, not his hands, but his head. He leans forward just an inch, his shadow falling over Kobo’s face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Acting all polite now, huh? You think I forgot what you did to us?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo blinks, throat tight, trying to find the meaning through the haze of noise and adrenaline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What...?\" he starts, but the words don’t come out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ryohei just steps back, not taking his cold gaze away from him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll show you a nightmare,\" he says slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the journalist row, Sato leans back in his seat, eyes narrowing as the two fighters step back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Look at them,\" he says quietly to Tanaka. \"Same height, same reach, but that’s where the similarity ends. Ryohei looks still built like an out-boxer. The muscle’s tight, shaped by years in the ring. But that kid...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Looks fat?\" Tanaka finishes for him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Can’t say he’s fat,\" Sato shakes his head. \"How should I put it... Softer? He’s scaled at sixty-three, but he’s probably closer to sixty-nine right now. Looks strong, but lacks the definition in his frame. Like he bulked too fast.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tanaka chuckles under his breath. \"Funny, though. I swear he looked bigger at the weigh-in yesterday. Why does he look smaller now?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sato smirks faintly, never looking away from the ring. \"That’s what pressure does. It shaves weight faster than any sweat suit ever could.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bell rings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ding!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Both journalists fall silent, eyes fixed on the ring. Kobo stands rigid in the center, while Ryohei bounces lightly around him, loose and fluid, a predator testing his range.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Round one! Here we go, ladies and gentlemen! Super Lightweight, ten rounds scheduled, Ryohei Yamada versus Kobo Maruyama!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For ten long seconds, Ryohei circles him like a vulture stalking a dying deer, and the chant of the Cruel King’s Army still rumbles through the hall like distant thunder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, at last, he starts flicking probing jabs, closing the space inch by inch, testing the distance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Ryohei exhales through his nose, takes another half a step forward, and shoots his first jab. It’s a flick of the left, sharp, and calculated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo jerks his head back too late. The glove barely rises, and...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dsh!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The jab taps the side of his temple, a whisper of contact, but enough to make his vision jolt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Ryohei doesn’t stop. He throws another left, and then another. Each punch pulls a synchronized growl from the stands...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ough! Ough! Ough!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...the chant of an army marching with every strike.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only one jab lands on Kobo’s guard. The other two kiss his cheek...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dug! Dsh! Dsh!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...snapping his head sideways, sweat bursting from his skin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What’s wrong with me? My hands... feel heavy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo blinks hard, disoriented. And Ryohei reads it instantly, the stiffness in Kobo’s legs, the delayed twitch in his guard, the fear behind his pupils.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Perfect. This is just perfect\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He lowers his stance, crouching slightly, ready to swarm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo’s instinct fires first, a desperate one-two, but both punches thud uselessly into Ryohei’s forearms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dug, dug!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then Ryohei strikes back, three angles, three clean intentions; a liver shot, a cross to the nose, and a short left hook to the head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thud!Dug! Tham!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Kobo only managed blocking the cross aimed straight at his face, eating the body blow and the hook.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now he folds slightly, knees dipping, eyes wide. He tries to bring his guard tighter, elbows locked, head buried between his gloves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ryohei steps back half a foot, recalibrates, and starts again, this time methodical: a jab to the guard, a hook to the ribs, another jab to the forehead, then a sneaky right under the elbow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each punch lands like punctuation, spacing his rhythm, suffocating Kobo under a slow relentless tide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From outside the ring, the Cruel King’s Army roars louder, a storm feeding on precision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ough! Ough! Ough!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sound swells until it drowns the hall, until Kobo can’t even hear his own breath anymore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shiki leans over the ropes, voice cutting through the crowd. \"Relax, Kobo! Don’t let the noise mess with you! Breathe... read his punches, and fire back!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Kobo doesn’t react. Maybe Shiki’s voice is lost beneath the roar, or maybe Kobo’s already lost inside the noise in his own head. No one can tell which.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He backs up, his skin already brushing the ropes, panic flickering in his eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why can’t I move?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn it!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My arms... they won’t listen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ryohei exhales, straightens his shoulders, and wipes a drop of sweat from his chin with the back of his glove.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Welcome to the ring, kid,\" he mutters under his breath, voice flat, unreadable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then he steps forward again, and the villain everyone feared begins his work as Kobo starts questioning his life choice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What am I doing?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why did I even come here?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then finally, out of sheer desperation, Kobo swings a wild hook, just as Ryohei launches a heavy shot of his own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dhuak!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Both punches land flush, snapping their heads in opposite directions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crowd erupts with a single, collective gasp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ooough!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The commentators burst into half-shocked laughter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Woohoho... what a brutal exchange!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Kobo finally fires back! And Ryohei... he looks shaken from that one!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That one clean hit reignites Kobo’s confidence. His instincts as a boxer flare back to life, urging him forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This is it...\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He must be hurt.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yes, the corner of Ryohei’s lips is red with blood. His face twitches, jaw tightening as he exhales through his nose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’s in pain, No doubt about it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But then Ryohei looks up, and that glare, wild and burning, freezes Kobo mid-step.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It isn’t the look of a wounded man. It’s madness staring back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The joker, the lighthearted mood-maker, finally shows his dark side.\u003C\u002Fp>",1374,"2026-06-02T11:09:26.935Z",1,"novelbin.me","8145c1d6f24d46402b597f0394c5e68b2c31e4b5cc7e63c9871fba03cd3a8870","vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-chapter-230","vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-chapter-228",762,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fvision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-cover.jpg"]