Chapter 5: "Are you willing to Sacrifice?"
He wore a black suit, exuding an air of authority and intensity.
His gaze was piercing.
And there was a certain harshness in the way he carried himself that immediately demanded attention.
"Congratulations, you unpolished gems," the man continued.
"All of you under-18 strikers have been chosen solely based on my criteria and biases to be here today. All 300 of you."
The room fell into an eerie silence as the players processed his words.
Isagi felt a chill run down his spine.
He could sense it in the air.
There was something much bigger at play here.
The man surveyed the group with a calculated intensity before introducing himself.
"I am Jinpachi Ego," he said.
"My job is to make Japan a team capable of winning the World Cup."
Isagi blinked, his mind racing.
World Cup?
The audacity of the statement caught him off guard.
The whispers around him grew louder as players began gossiping.
Murmuring in disbelief at what Ego had just said.
The idea that a single man could take responsibility for such a monumental task seemed absurd.
Yet something about his presence told Isagi that he was serious.
Kira, sensing Isagi's confusion, leaned in closer.
"Who's that guy? You know him?" he asked in a low voice.
Isagi shook his head.
"Nah... no way…"
But even as he said it.
Isagi couldn't shake the thought that there was something amiss.
Jinpachi Ego's claim to fame—winning the World Cup for Japan—sounded almost too far-fetched.
Could this really be true?
Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts.
Ego's voice rang out again, sharper this time.
"I'll put it in simple terms," Jinpachi said.
His eyes locking onto the crowd.
"Japan requires one thing to become the strongest powerhouse in football. And that is the creation of a revolutionary striker. From you 300 players gathered here today, I will forge the best striker in the world through a certain project."
At that moment, Jinpachi raised his hand and pointed toward the wall behind him.
Isagi's eyes followed his gesture, and suddenly, a large projection flickered to life.
Displaying the layout of a building—an imposing structure shaped like a pentagon.
The facility's stark, military-like design stood out.
Its sheer size and complexity designed for a single purpose.
"Look here," Jinpachi continued.
"For this purpose, we have built this facility... called Blue Lock."
A murmur rippled through the room.
The name echoed in Isagi's mind, his confusion deepening.
"Starting today,"
"All of you will live in this building and follow my personally designed training regime to the letter. You will not be able to go back home, and from this moment on, you can consider your football careers as you know them, over."
Isagi felt a lump form in his throat.
No going home?
The significance of the situation was becoming clear.
This was not just a training program.
It was a one-way trip.
A cutthroat environment designed to weed out the weak.
"But I will say this," Jinpachi added.
His voice growing even more intense.
"If you manage to survive Blue Lock and defeat the other 299 players around you, you—the last player standing—will have become the best striker in the world."
The room fell into stunned silence.
Ego's words were both a promise and a challenge.
The stakes were higher than anything Isagi had ever imagined.
"That's all for the details," Jinpachi said, his cold eyes scanning the group.
"Nice to meet you all."
With that, he turned away.
Leaving the players to process the reality of what he had just laid before them.
Isagi stood there, his mind reeling.
Blue Lock. Survival. The World Cup.
A few minutes passed.
And it was clear that not everyone was ready to accept his words so easily.
Kira, who had been standing quietly next to Isagi.
Suddenly stepped forward.
"Hey! Sorry, but... I can't agree with what you just said just now," he said.
His voice strong and unwavering.
Isagi turned to Kira in surprise.
Not expecting him to speak out like that.
The tension in the room was palpable.
And Kira's boldness seemed to add fuel to the fire.
"For most of us, our team is our main priority... particularly those of us who'll participate at nationals."
His words were clear, and there was an underlying defiance in his tone.
He glanced at Isagi for a brief moment before continuing.
Locking eyes with Jinpachi again.
"There's no way I can accept those kinds of terms. I... I will not throw away my own team."
The room seemed to hold its breath.
For a split second.
The sound of murmured agreement rippled through the crowd.
Like a wave slowly rising to the surface.
A few of the other players voiced their thoughts out loud, speaking in unison.
"That's right...! I'm also playing at nationals!"
Another added, "And why do we have to all live together...!"
"Yeah!" another player shouted, his frustration palpable.
"This is ridiculous!"
The murmur of dissent spread like wildfire.
With voices rising one after the other.
"Who the hell are you, anyway?! What gives you the right to tell us how to play!?"
Isagi stood there.
Still processing the harsh reality of what was happening.
It was clear that not everyone was ready to accept the terms of this brutal training regimen.
Jinpachi's vision was radical.
But there was no denying the challenge he posed.
Would they really choose to fight for their individual glory over their loyalty to their teams?
Jinpachi didn't flinch.
He merely watched the chaos unfold before him.
His expression emotionless.
Finally, after a long moment of silence, he spoke again.
"Ah, I see. You're all really messed up in the head, huh?"
His eyes narrowed, and he continued.
"If you want to leave, then go ahead. No one's stopping you."
The players were momentarily stunned.
Jinpachi didn't even seem to care if they left.
But his next words hit like a punch to the gut.
"Your teams, your schools—what are they worth, huh? You'd really choose them over becoming the best striker in the world? You want to settle for being second-rate in a country that has never won the World Cup?"
His gaze swept over them.
Each word dripping with scorn.
"Japan's football system is world-class when it comes to organization and discipline, but when it comes to raw talent and ambition, we're second-rate. All of you are just another cog in that system. You've been trained to play nice, to share the spotlight with your teammates, but do you think that will make you the best?"
The background on the screen changed to show a photo of Japan's strongest football team.
A team that had always been the bridesmaid, never the bride.
They were consistently placed second in world tournaments.
Jinpachi's voice rang out with the harshest truth of all.
"If you want to be great—if you want to be the best—you have to be willing to sacrifice everything. And that means leaving your old life behind."
Isagi's stomach tightened.
Jinpachi's words were harsh, but they carried a brutal truth.
It wasn't just about playing football anymore.
It was about survival.
There could only be one.
What was Isagi willing to sacrifice?
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