[{"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-398":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},730702,969,"Chapter 398: Polished Smiles, Sharpened Knives","vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-chapter-398",398,"\u003Cp>In business, hatred is rarely worn openly. It is pressed flat, polished smooth, and hidden behind smiles firm enough to pass for sincerity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Logan Rhodes understands this better than most.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Class-A tournament finals draw a full house. Cameras sweep the arena, flashes popping as sponsors, executives, and officials take their seats.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The front row is reserved for names that matter; money, influence, and the quiet power that shapes outcomes long before the bell rings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Logan sits among them, posture relaxed, suit immaculate, expression composed to the point of elegance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nakahara emerges from the aisle with his team, their presence modest beneath the glare of sponsor banners and arena lights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Logan rises with the front row. His applause is restrained, perfectly timed. When Nakahara looks his way, Logan meets the glance with an easy nod and a courteous smile, warm enough for the cameras, neutral enough to mean nothing happens between them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Impressive run, Coach Nakahara. It seems momentum finally found your corner.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nakahara hesitates, then returns the gesture. \"Thank you for your support, Mr. Logan.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He bows lightly as he continues toward the blue corner, expression open and respectful. To him, it is simply good manners, boxing civility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the rear of the group, Ryoma follows with the corner team. His eyes catch Logan’s presence for a brief moment, long enough to register, not long enough to acknowledge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He offers no bow, no greeting. Nakahara’s response is enough to represent everyone in the team. Logan plays it cool with a light smile, and takes his seat again, composure intact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The commentators fill in the moment as Okabe gets into the ring.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And here comes Okabe!\" one of them announces. \"Look at that energy... He’s in far better shape than we’ve seen throughout this tournament.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Okabe raises his arms, feeding off the crowd, bouncing lightly on his feet, and then pumps his fists like pistons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Some still call his run lucky,\" the second commentator adds. \"Close fights, favorable breaks. But luck doesn’t carry you to the finals.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He earned his place.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yeah... now he has to prove he deserves it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The camera lingers on Okabe’s confident grin. He can hear a few boos slipping through the supportive cheers, voices from the opposing camp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Luck runs out!\" someone shouts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Against Higuchi, you’re finished!\" another yells.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A harsher voice cuts through. \"Not even God can save you this time!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Okabe’s smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it sharpens, as if the noise only confirms he’s standing exactly where he belongs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the lights shift, and the commentators’ voices rise in unison.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And entering the red corner... Higuchi Naoya.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crowd answers before the sentence finishes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Twenty years old. Riding an eight-fight winning streak,\" one commentator continues. \"A pure speedster with excellent footwork, sharp hands, and timing that’s been dismantling opponents one round at a time.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Higuchi steps into view, light on his feet, shoulders loose, eyes focused. He looks comfortable in the spotlight, as if the noise is part of his rhythm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"This kid’s been turning heads all year,\" the other commentator adds. \"Fast starts, clean exits, and not a lot of wasted motion. Many see him as the future of the division.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The reaction is immediate, and louder than before. Cheers surge through the arena, whistles cutting sharp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Higuchi!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Higuchi!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Eight straight... make it nine this time!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some of the cheers twist as they spill toward the blue corner, voices turning rough, eager for blood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Break him, Higuchi!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Don’t let him breathe!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Send him home in the first... show him the gap!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Laughter mixes with the shouts, confident and cruel, as if the outcome is already decided.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Teach him what real speed looks like!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Erase that smile!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The noise swells, pressing in from all sides, not just support anymore but expectation, hungry and merciless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Higuchi raises a glove briefly, acknowledging the roar with practiced calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Listen to this place,\" the commentator says. \"They’ve already picked their favorite.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The bell hasn’t even rung yet,\" says the other one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The noise isn’t baseless. From the opening bell, Higuchi shows exactly why the arena leans his way.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He doesn’t rush, doesn’t waste motion. His feet skim the canvas in smooth arcs, angles appearing where none should exist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Okabe advances with intent, guard tight, but every step forward costs him something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dsh! Dsh!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two jabs lands clean in his face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once Okabe cocks his right, Higuchi is already gone, and slips in again with swift footwork.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The jab snaps out, not heavy but precise, touching Okabe’s face, his gloves, his rhythm. It isn’t meant to hurt yet. It’s meant to measure, to disrupt, to announce control.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the midpoint of the first round, the pattern settles. Higuchi circles, pivots, slips just outside range, then steps back in with clean combinations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One–two. Check hook. A quick step out before Okabe can answer. When Okabe swings, Higuchi isn’t there. When Okabe plants, Higuchi punishes him for it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He’s controlling every inch of the ring. This is Higuchi fighting at his preferred distance.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"And Okabe hasn’t found the key yet.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The judges don’t need to look hard. The gap writes itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And round two is worse. After fully studying his opponent, Higuchi grows bolder, his confidence visible in every movement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He starts changing levels, drawing Okabe’s guard high, then threading shots to the body. The sound of leather landing cleanly echoes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crowd reacts instantly; sharp gasps, then a swelling roar. Each clean hit pulls cheers from Higuchi’s supporters, while uneasy murmurs ripple from the rest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This isn’t luck on display. It’s control.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Okabe tries to impose pressure, to turn it into a fight of will and grit. But Higuchi refuses to let the ring shrink. He controls distance like it belongs to him, moving with a balance and elegance that makes Okabe look heavy by comparison.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the blue corner, Nakahara’s voice cuts through the noise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Calm down, Okabe! Don’t chase him!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Higuchi glances his way, and a cocky grin flashing across his face. The sight needles Okabe, sparks his temper. But the moment he snaps, Higuchi answers by peppering his face with clean shots.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Don’t rush it,\" Nakahara continues, sharp and steady. \"Cut the ring first. Walk him to the corner. Make him stop before you swing!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ryoma watches in silence. The Vision Grid works at the edge of his awareness, mapping Higuchi’s movement in quiet layers; footwork patterns, rhythm shifts, weight transfer, timing windows.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He searches for tells; habits, a crack in the machine. But there’s almost nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Either Higuchi really is this complete, or Okabe is giving him everything he wants, letting him fight at his most perfect and efficiency.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every entry is clean. Every exit is disciplined. No wasted motion. No panic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And it stings, because the longer Ryoma studies Higuchi, the less he thinks about helping Okabe. Instead, a different urge coils in his chest, the itch to step into the ring himself, to test that balance, to see if those clean lines would hold under real pressure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>>\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He does feel the urge to test Higuchi himself. But featherweight is too low. No matter how badly Ryoma wants to measure himself against him, their paths will never cross.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By the end of the third round, the crowd is no longer shouting instructions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They’re watching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because now it’s clear: this isn’t just a lead on the scorecards. It’s a demonstration of level, speed, form, and polish being applied without mercy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Okabe’s face tells the story. One eye is already puffed, his cheek flushed and swelling, breaths coming heavier as he returns to the corner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ryoma’s gaze drifts from the ring to Nakahara. The old man’s hands grip the ropes, eyes searching for an answer that isn’t there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s the look of someone realizing that momentum is borrowed, that not every honeymoon lasts as long as you want it to.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Logan watches, his expression serene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Okabe’s swollen face means nothing to him. What satisfies Logan is Nakahara’s quiet desperation, and the anger set hard in Ryoma’s jaw.\u003C\u002Fp>",1336,"2026-06-02T11:09:26.935Z",1,"novelbin.me","56f5de769986787c127cbe9e05accbd2c6b191a05eb8e2db904cf53bea59f065","vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-chapter-399","vision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-chapter-397",762,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fvision-grid-system-the-comeback-of-ryoma-takeda-cover.jpg"]