Chapter 923 - 923: Follow Me If You Dare

The ring girl's expression turns visibly puzzled, as if she is still trying to understand what Ryoma is implying. Before she can ask another question, however, Ryoma simply returns the microphone to her and turns toward his corner, already preparing to leave the ring.

The first commentator clears his throat, briefly glancing toward his colleague. "Well... I think we'll leave that particular matter to the medical professionals."

"Absolutely," the second commentator replies. "Whatever Ryoma is referring to, tonight is still about the new WBO Lightweight Champion. And what a night it has been. After everything surrounding this fight, Ryoma Takeda has finally reached the summit."

Ryoma stops halfway down the steps and turns toward the Cruel King Army. He raises one hand, then taps the left side of his chest several times.

The Cruel King Army immediately answers with their chant, their voices rolling across the Tokyo Dome as Ryoma turns away and walks down the aisle, Ronin Fight Management following closely behind.

Around ringside, journalists are already writing. Some scribble rapidly with intense focus, while others lean toward their colleagues, quietly discussing Ryoma's words and what they might mean.

Unlike most of the audience, they already understand that his final answer has given them something far more significant to investigate.

"He's implying something was wrong with Cabello."

"He didn't accuse him of anything. Not directly. But he knows something."

"Or he suspects something."

"Either way, if those tests find anything, we've got a story."

"A big one."

With most of the arena's attention now following Ryoma down the aisle, Vaughan rises from his seat. Bowman follows a moment later, using the distraction to slip away from the public eye.

Not everyone misses them. Elliot Graves and Sergei Volkov, seated in the same row, watch them pass with cold, wordless glances.

Across ringside, Liam O'Connel and Jean Pascal Roy have been watching the two promoters as well.

"Did you notice that, Liam?" Roy asks. "When Ryoma mentioned the anomalies with Cabello, I felt like he was pointing some suspicion at those two as well."

Liam nods, leaning slightly toward him. "I fought Cabello before. I know what he's capable of. And yeah, what we saw tonight is enough to raise questions about doping. But Ryoma's reaction makes me think this doesn't stop with Cabello and Ramirez."

Somewhat farther from the VIP section, Kirizume and Renji remain comfortably in their seats, watching Ronin's group make their way toward the corridor.

Kirizume's eyes stay on Ryoma a little longer, and despite everything that has happened between them, there is unmistakable pride and acknowledgement in his expression.

"Thinking about everything he's gone through," Kirizume says, "I can't help but have a lot of respect for that kid."

He then turns toward Renji with a teasing smile. "So? Are you really thinking about returning to the ring? With him as champion now, the WBO is going to become a lot more interesting. The contender scene should be healthier too. With Ryoma and Ronin at the top, I doubt there'll be much room left for the kind of dirty politics that made things so difficult for other fighters. If you want to return through the WBC circuit, that's fine. But I'm telling you, the WBO is becoming very tempting."

Renji only zips up his jacket and rises, adjusting his mask until it sits securely over his mouth and nose.

"Hey, Renji," Kirizume calls quietly.

"There's nothing left for me in boxing," Renji replies before walking away. "Japan doesn't need me anymore. They already have Ryoma Takeda."

Kirizume raises his voice slightly. "Drop by the gym sometime. We could try something new. You and me, as coaches. We'll do it the right way this time. I promise."

"I'll think about it," Renji replies without looking back. "But I'm not making any promises."

Kirizume lets out a deep sigh before leaning back in his chair. A moment later, his gaze settles on the big screen, watching the replay of Ryoma's most important moments while he still has the chance.

***

Meanwhile, across Japan and several neighboring countries, boxing fans are still watching the title fight through NovaLink Media's subscription channels.

Some are catching the delayed broadcast after being away from home when the fight took place, while others are replaying it despite having already watched it live.

Others sit together at home, dissecting every adjustment, every exchange, and every strategic change from round to round like professional analysts.

And there's Ryohei, who can only watch the entire event on a delayed broadcast for a different reason; His mother subscribes to NovaLink Media for the drama channels.

Rather than argue over the television, he had to wait until the afternoon after cleverly persuading her to soak in the luxurious bathtub he bought for her.

Now, resting his cheek against one fist, he watches Ryoma standing calmly beside the fallen champion as the referee waves his hands to stop the fight.

"Damn kid..." Ryohei mutters, a quiet chuckle escaping him.

He isn't actually alone. Sitting in another chair is Aizawa, the former boxer who once trained under Nakahara and eventually quit after Ryoma beat him in sparring.

"What an audacity," Aizawa says with a silly laugh. "He fucking strolls in there, and now he's a fucking world champion."

Ryohei says nothing more, simply watching the screen with a faint, peaceful smile, genuinely happy to see Ryoma finally reach this moment.

But when the Ronin fighters gather around Ryoma, celebrating their new world champion, something inside Ryohei begins to sink. The sadness and disappointment gradually wash the smile from his face.

"So..." Aizawa chuckles with a false air of pride. "I guess I can say my career ended at the hands of a world champion, huh? Not such a bad way to go out."

Ryohei gives him a sideways glance. "That's one way to make losing in sparring sound impressive."

"Details, Ryohei. The important part is that the kid became a world champion afterward," Aizawa replies.

Seeing Aizawa like that, the old Ryohei would have kept pushing until every excuse had been stripped away. Somehow, though, he simply keeps watching the screen because he also feels like a loser himself.

"Hey, Ryohei..." Aizawa's voice suddenly becomes quieter. "Would it look that ridiculous if I went back to that gym?"

Ryohei glances at him without answering immediately, then returns his eyes to the screen.

"We don't train at that gym anymore. But yeah, you'd look pretty damn ridiculous."

After a moment of silent, Aizawa speaks again. "…Seeing all of you like this, I feel like quitting back then was the wrong choice."

"Sorry, Aizawa. But you're asking the wrong person. I'm not even sure if I'm back to the ring."

Aizawa blinks. "What do you mean?"

"My condition won't let me train for at least a year," Ryohei says. "Ideally, the old man won't even schedule my comeback for another six months after that. After being away that long, I'm not sure I'll still be the same Ryohei who once became champion in this country."

Aizawa falls silent. For someone who quitted after losing a sparring match, there is no way he can pretend to have the wisdom to tell Ryohei not to quit.

For a long while, he simply watches the screen until Ryohei restarts the recording from the undercards. Eventually, unable to sit through another replay of Okabe making a fool of himself, Aizawa stretches his arms and rises from his chair.

"Guess I should get going."

Ryohei shifts in his seat to stand, but a sudden grimace of pain stops him.

"Don't bother," Aizawa says.

Ryohei watches Aizawa leave until the front door closes, then turns back to the screen.

Seeing Okabe's battered face, he immediately speeds through the replay. Aramaki's fight barely holds his attention, and neither does Kenta's despite his dominance.

Eventually, he returns to Ryoma's fight, watching as the desperation on his face grows with every round. The more he watches, the deeper his respect for Ryoma's struggle becomes.

At the same time, Ryohei is beginning to understand just how difficult that path really is, and how impossible it would be for him to catch up.

The realization makes him feel smaller as he remembers how confidently he once dismissed Ryoma. Now, with Ryoma standing where he is, those words feel almost pathetic. Ryohei can only look at them with quiet shame.

That growing self-loathing pulls Ryohei deeper into despair until the sudden ringing of the bell cuts through the room.

Ding-dong!

Ding-dong!

"Damn it, Aizawa... just open the damn door," Ryohei complains, clutching his side as he slowly gets up and makes his way toward the door.

When Ryohei opens the door, however, he finds someone sitting on the steps of the porch. He can only see the man's back, but the WBO championship belt lying on the ground beside him immediately gives him the answer.

Ryohei's expression tightens. "What are you doing here? Ryoma?"

Ryoma turns over his shoulder, revealing a clear bruise on his right temple, an unusual sight on a fighter like him.

He then gets to his feet and picks up the championship belt, deliberately bringing it here for one reason.

"Showing this off."

For a moment, contempt returns to Ryohei's face. So does the envy, before quickly followed by the self-loathing that has only just begun to consume him.

Ryoma catches the change in his expression, and gives a quiet scoff. He shakes his head, a faint look of disappointment crossing his face.

"What's with that look? You don't like seeing me as world champion? I suppose that makes sense. I did ruin your career, after all. Must be hard watching me stand here with the belt."

Ryohei's face turns sour. "If you've had your fun, then take your belt and leave. I don't need you standing here reminding me of everything I've lost."

Ryoma only shrugs, his expression remaining calm. "Of course I'll leave. But I'm going to keep moving forward, whether you like it or not. So either you follow me to the summit, or you stay here and let all that resentment eat you alive. The choice is yours. Ronin is going to keep moving."

With that, he turns around and climbs into the van, leaving Ryohei standing there with a blank expression as the vehicle pulls away.

Ryoma's words may have been sharp, but one part keeps echoing in Ryohei's mind.

"…follow me to the summit."

It feels like a medicine far more bitter than anything the hospital had given him, yet somehow far more effective.

While Ryohei had been doubting whether he could even become a champion in Japan again, Ryoma had just told him to climb higher.