Reflected the sprawling cityscape.
As Nihei adjusted his notes.
Across from him sat Sae Itoshi.
Japan's prodigy, radiating an aura of effortless dominance.
His magenta hair glinted in the sunlight.
His teal eyes betraying little emotion.
Framed by his sharp features.
Nihei smiled professionally,
"My name's Nihei, from Football Journal. Thank you for accepting our request to interview you here today."
Sae leaned back in his chair, uninterested.
"It may be sudden, but up until now, you've been in the lower categories for Real Madrid, a world-renowned institution."
"However, before getting a chance to play for their first team, you've returned to Japan."
"Does this mean we'll get to see you play in our J-League?"
Sae's gaze narrowed.
His reply sharp.
"To be honest, I'd rather die."
Nihei blinked, taken aback.
"Huh?"
Sae continued.
"Rather than football in this country, I'd much prefer playing with Germany's college students."
Nihei cleared his throat.
Scrambling to regain control of the interview.
"Itoshi, you were chosen by FIFA to be part of their Youth World XI Team, and on top of that, you're a promising midfielder many teams would love to have in their lineup."
"While you're all but certain to lead Japan's National Team, I must ask: what are your thoughts and expectations regarding that?"
"I have no interest in it whatsoever,"
Sae replied bluntly.
Standing up as if to end the interview.
"Not only could I never expect to win a championship with such a squad, but it's also not my dream."
"My dream is to win the Champions League. And in this country, there isn't a single forward worthy of receiving one of my passes."
Nihei, flustered, tried to recover.
"Oh… Thank you for your time…"
"You too," Sae replied curtly.
Opening the door.
"My manager will handle the rest."
As the door clicked shut.
Nihei sat stunned in silence.
"In all of Japan, not one talent interests this genius… who may well be one of the best players in the world."
Outside, Sae's manager, Girolain Davidi.
Jogged to catch up with him.
"Itoshi-san! You went and did it again!"
Sae glanced at him lazily.
"The media will hate you at this rate,"
Davidi chided.
"I couldn't care less about this country,"
Sae said coldly.
"I'm only here to renew my passport anyway."
Davidi sighed but stopped in his tracks.
As Sae's gaze locked onto something down the hallway.
They had stumbled upon the Blue Lock Project Press Conference.
Inside, Anri Teieri sat confidently at a table.
Right beside Hirotoshi Buratsuta, President of the Japan Football Association.
Across from them sat rows of skeptical reporters.
Anri's voice resonated through the room.
"Blue Lock is a revolutionary project aimed at producing the world's greatest striker."
"In this initiative, high school players will throw away everything to compete."
The reporters muttered amongst themselves.
Some voices louder than others.
"Revolutionary? Can such a system guarantee results?"
"Is this really worth the risks?"
Anri, unflinching.
Leaned into the microphone.
"If Japan wishes to close the gap with the world's best, this is the way forward."
Meanwhile, back in Team Z's room.
"Now, onto the details of Blue Lock's… First Selection, starting next week."
"Boop!"
The screen changed to a grid formatted like a multiplication table.
"The first selection will be between you, the 55 players of the fifth stratum. This consists of a round-robin of the five teams within it."
"When all is said and done… only the top two teams will advance to the Second Selection."
Gasps filled the room.
"It's all-or-nothing," Jinpachi concluded ominously.
Chigiri broke the silence first.
"Huh? You're saying us 11 players from Team Z are playing? But aren't we all forwards…?"
Imamura scratched his head.
"Looks like we'll have to cover other positions too!"
He turned to Lemon.
"How about being our goalkeeper?"
Lemon groaned.
"Stop it. If you ask me, there's no way I can refuse…"
The room erupted into chaos as Raichi declared,
"Then I'll play as Center-Forward!"
Kunigami frowned.
"Huh? You mean me."
Gagamaru interjected.
"Except, I will."
Kira pointed at Imamura.
"You're on defense."
"Say what?!"
Imamura shouted.
Isagi, standing in the corner, shook his head.
"I knew this was gonna happen…"
Jinpachi's voice boomed, silencing the room.
"Isn't that fine? Football is, at its core, a sport where you score goals. It's only natural for all of you to play as forwards."
He paused before continuing.
"Football was originally a sport played with every member as a forward. So, our football will begin from that starting point."
"From there, fix your knowledge of football from scratch."
Isagi's eyes widened.
"Fix our knowledge of football… from scratch?"
The key to Team Z's survival began to take shape in his mind.
Back at the conference.
Anri addressed the room passionately.
"If Japan wants to cross that very last step… the state of Japan's national team cannot continue as is."
At the same time, in two separate locations.
Both Anri and Jinpachi spoke in unison.
"The most important thing for Japan to become the best in the world is not the teamwork between 11 players."
Both paused.
Their voices dropping for emphasis.
"It is to have… a hero among them!"
…
A hero.
Isagi's gaze swept across his teammates.
He remembered Bachira's words about the monster.
The monster wasn't some external force.
It was their egos, their desires, their drive to stand out.
Each player had their own monster.
What made them unique, what pushed them forward.
For the team to survive, for him to survive.
He needed to be the one in control.
He needed to dominate everyone else's monster.
He had to outplay them in skill, talent, and intelligence.
Only then would their egos revolve around him.
It was about becoming so undeniably good that the team couldn't help but follow his lead.
A sense of clarity washed over Isagi.
This was the key to their survival.
Isagi knew what he had to do.
He didn't need to be the best team player.
He needed to be the best player, period.
…
Anri Teieri had just concluded the interview.
"That was it for the press conference."
But the reporters weren't satisfied.
Questions fired from every direction.
"Are you kiddin' me?!"
"What what'll happen to those other young geniuses!!"
"No one at the JFA opposes this plan?!"
Meanwhile, outside the room.
Sae Itoshi stood there.
His sharp teal eyes half-lidded.
As he processed everything he'd overheard.
"Itoshi-chan…"
Davidi, his manager.
Approached nervously, tugging at his sleeves.
"We should leave now… There's not much time before the flight to Spain."
Sae didn't move.
"Cancel it," he said flatly.
Davidi froze, blinking in disbelief.
"Wha—what did you say?"
Sae turned his head slightly.
As he looked at his manager with a calm but decisive expression.
"I said, cancel it,"
Sae repeated.
His tone was steady.
But there was an edge of finality that left no room for argument.
Davidi fumbled for words.
"But... Real Madrid's youth team... the training sessions... What about your contract?!"
Sae shrugged and started walking down the hallway.
His hands stuffed in his pockets.
"I don't care," he said bluntly.
"Before I leave, I'll judge the forward born in this New Japan... with my own eyes."