[Blue Lock First Stage, Commence]
[Scheduled Settlement Time: End of the First Selection Round of Blue Lock]
[Performance during this period will affect the grade of rewards and the number of reward choices available upon final settlement. Make the most of this opportunity and perform well.]
The system's voice echoed in Shinichi's mind as he reclined in his seat on the bus, eyes closed in rest. A smirk crept onto his lips.
As expected! Once the main storyline starts, the number of reward choices opens up!
"Well then, my apologies to those unlucky enough to share the same building as me. I'm going to—"
"—crush you all completely."
...
"This bodysuit is ridiculous," Shinichi muttered with disdain, eyeing the strange patterns on the navy-blue garment. Reluctantly, he pulled it on.
"Player X, ranked third in Building 5, with an individual Class ranking of 243. What nonsense," he scoffed, utterly indifferent to the placeholder ranking.
Take Isagi's building, for instance.
Ignoring Kunigami, who clearly wasn't in the weakest category, even players like Barou Shoei, with their personal skill levels, wouldn't rank below the likes of Zantetsu or Reo.
Yet, they were grouped into the X building.
It was clear that while the groupings might show some disparities in overall strength, each room deliberately included a standout player.
Otherwise, clustering all the strongest players together would defeat the purpose of the selection.
"Yo, looks like everyone's here, 'diamonds in the rough,'" Ego's lethargic face appeared on the room's screen. "The people in this room are both your teammates and your rivals for improvement."
"I've personally quantified your abilities through my arbitrary bias and ranked you. Those numbers on your suits? The bigger they are, the worse your rank. Simple and easy to understand."
"Rankings will be adjusted based on the results of training and matches. The top five will automatically qualify to participate in the U-20 matches."
"Oh, and one more thing—anyone eliminated from Blue Lock will never have the chance to join the national team."
Shinichi sneered.
In this world, his previous country remained a complete mess when it came to football.
It could even be said that the country had practically abandoned the sport.
He had no intention of indulging in some absurd patriotic fantasy of revitalizing football there.
Even in basketball, a sport with only five players on the court, one weak link could make it almost impossible to win a championship.
Football, with its 11 players, was even less forgiving.
Reviving a nation's football scene through the efforts of one individual?
Utterly unrealistic.
For example, take basketball in that country. They once had an NBA star who managed to carry the team for a while, but even he couldn't shoulder the burden forever and eventually broke under the pressure.
Once he retired, the team reverted to its former mediocre state.
The same principle applies to football. Without the entire nation making it a priority, a single person could never achieve anything meaningful.
Shinichi had no intention of stepping into such a hopeless situation.
Of course, he also had no plans to play for this country or compete for its glory.
There were plenty of nations that could qualify for the World Cup, and in the end, he could simply choose whichever one suited him best.
As long as he was strong enough, there would always be countries willing to naturalize him as a foreign player.
This so-called "threat" of exclusion from the national team meant nothing to him.
Besides, it wasn't even up to Ego to enforce.
The football association wouldn't listen to him, and he didn't have the authority to make such decisions.
For instance, what if a player eliminated from Blue Lock went on to excel in the future, winning countless honors in Europe's top five leagues?
Could they really stop him from joining the national team?
It was nothing more than scare tactics, a bluff to manipulate naive kids who didn't know any better.
"As I just mentioned, football is a sport for egoists. If you want to succeed here, you need to embrace selfishness. Now, we'll conduct a test to measure just how selfish you are."
"Alright, it's time for a game of tag."
A football dropped from above, and Ego began explaining the rules: "You have 136 seconds. Whoever touches the ball becomes 'It.' When the countdown ends, whoever is 'It' is eliminated and sent packing."
"Oh, and handballs are strictly forbidden. If you touch the ball with your hands, it's an instant Game Over. That's all." With that, Ego's face disappeared from the screen, replaced by a simple drawing indicating who was currently "It."
"I guess I'm 'It,' being the lowest-ranked player in the room," an unremarkable player muttered bitterly, walking toward the ball.
But before he could reach it, Shinichi stepped in his path, picked up the ball, and started juggling it effortlessly.
"Huh? You…" The unremarkable player stared in disbelief at Shinichi, who had stolen the ball. The screen promptly updated to show that Shinichi was now "It."
"I thought I'd at least have to put in some effort, but it looks like no one's even trying to take the ball…" Shinichi said lazily, juggling the ball without a care.
He glanced around the room, tilting his head. "Looks like I really hit the jackpot—stuck with a bunch of idiots for teammates."
Ignoring the angry glares from the others, Shinichi placed his foot on the ball. "Did I say anything wrong? In a game of 'Hot Potato,' the goal is to keep passing the 'potato' to the next person, avoiding it as much as possible. That's what you're all thinking, isn't it?"
Seeing no one refute him, Shinichi shook his head again, wearing an expression of utter disappointment, as if lamenting the hopelessness of his teammates.
"How foolish. While 'Hot Potato' does involve some strategic play, it's largely a game of chance, relying on the random variable of when the music stops."
"Do you really think a facility designed to select the strongest striker would use a luck-based game to eliminate people?"
"The moment that guy set a countdown timer on the screen and announced the exact time the game would end, this stopped being anything like 'Hot Potato.'"
Shinichi pointed to the screen above, where the timer had already ticked past a minute, leaving only 50 seconds remaining. "Whoever gets hit by the ball becomes 'It.' In other words, in this game, only the person with the ball has the right to attack, while everyone else is left with no option but to dodge."
"In short, this is a completely asymmetrical survival game, like Dead by Daylight!" Shinichi laughed loudly as the clock ticked down to 20 seconds. "And how could anyone let someone else's actions decide their fate?"
"As a striker... you naturally need to keep the ball under your control until the very last moment and let your own shot decide the outcome of the game!"
With 10 seconds remaining, Shinichi finally started moving with the ball.
He dashed aimlessly around the room, chasing anyone who dared approach him, but strangely, he made no attempt to kick the ball.
Is he just a loudmouth fool?
This thought crossed more than one person's mind in the room. But the next moment—
Shinichi suddenly flicked the ball into the air and leaped after it himself.
2 seconds remaining!
In mid-air, Shinichi twisted his body dramatically, nearly horizontal, and performed a spectacular 180-degree volley shot.
The ball flew like a bullet and struck someone hiding in his blind spot behind him, leaving no room for doubt.
At the exact same moment, the countdown ended. The large screen displayed the identity of the unfortunate person who had become 'It' in the final second, perfectly timed to the game's conclusion.
"What? I… I'm eliminated? Why? Why?! Why did you shoot me? I was already hiding behind you! I was just one step away from surviving! There are players ranked lower than me, aren't there?! Why did you eliminate me?!"
The eliminated player knelt on the ground in disbelief, ignoring the blood streaming from his nose as he howled in frustration.
Shinichi scratched his head. "Isn't it obvious?"
As the player turned his gaze toward him, Shinichi shrugged nonchalantly. "There are 12 people in this room, which means one person had to be eliminated, leaving 11 behind."
"And the fact that we were divided into groups of this size—12 players per group—matches a particularly significant number in football. Do I need to spell it out for you?"
"This means, whether I like it or not, the remaining players here will be my teammates for the foreseeable future."
"Then why eliminate me?! If it's about having teammates, wouldn't it be better to keep the stronger ones? We're in the weakest group, Building 5! If your teammates are weak, won't it make things harder for you? Besides, my rank isn't that low! Look, it's only two places below yours—"
"I don't care."
"Huh?"
"I said I don't care. These rankings? They mean nothing to me."
"In the end, I'll be number one, so it doesn't matter how strong or weak my teammates are."
"If I have to rely on good teammates just to avoid elimination when playing against a bunch of high schoolers from a football-weak nation, then I have no business aiming for the title of the world's best."
Shinichi stepped closer to the eliminated player, his dark eyes like unfathomable black holes.
The intensity of his gaze was suffocating, forcing the player to look away, unable to meet his eyes. "I just don't like the idea of having deadweight in the group. My movements in the last 10 seconds weren't aimless."
"While I was chasing others, I was also observing all of you—your positioning choices, spatial awareness, strategic thinking, and so on. Out of everyone, there were three people who, at least in this game, I deemed unfit to stay and deserving of elimination."
Shinichi pointed to three players in the group. Surprisingly, none of them were the one who had been eliminated.
Without dragging it out, he continued, "But in the final moments, I changed my mind. I noticed something about you. While some others showed slight lapses, only you were standing there with a smug, self-satisfied look, convinced you had already passed, even gloating at others' misfortune."
"In the most critical moments of the game, while the match was still ongoing, the whistle hadn't blown, and the outcome was undecided, you… had already decided you'd won."
"You! You completely let your guard down. Was it because you were behind me? Because I wasn't chasing you? Because you thought the distance was safe?"
"In the final, most critical moment, the moment that determined life or death, you relaxed. Someone like you, who gave up trying at the very last second, who disrespected their own fate…"
"You're an eyesore. That's why I changed my mind. If you don't care about your own future—"
"Then let me be the one to destroy it for you!"
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Clap... Clap... Clap...
A slow, intermittent applause echoed through the room as Ego appeared on the screen once again.
"Well said," Ego remarked coldly. "Let me reiterate for everyone here: you are all unpolished gems of talent, and in this place, results are everything."
"Now then, the last one to be caught—get out. You've lost your qualification."
The eliminated player opened and closed his mouth as if wanting to protest but ultimately said nothing. With a defeated expression, he picked up his luggage and exited the room.
"That saved me quite a bit of effort," Ego continued. "Otherwise, I'd have to visit each room, listen to the wails of the failures, and waste my time explaining everything to them. Really, it's unnecessary extra work."
On the screen, Ego lifted a cup of coffee and took a sip with a blank expression. "But not everyone is as perceptive as you. So, as a formality, I'll explain it again."
"Still, since you've saved me the trouble of dealing with mediocrity, let's use the extra time for a little chat."
"After experiencing this game of tag, does anyone have any thoughts?"
The group exchanged uncertain glances until finally, a blue-haired boy raised his hand.
"Um... the size of this room—it should match the dimensions of the penalty area, right? And the time limit is strange. It's not a whole number. For a standard game, the time given for strategic decision-making seems unusually short."
"Hmm... Hiori Yo, Rank #244," Ego said, surprisingly offering a rare word of praise. He gestured, summoning a 3D model projection.
"You're right. This game was designed to test your ability to handle the ball within the penalty area. Those on the run need awareness of their surroundings, strategic thinking, and spatial perception. On the other hand, those chasing need refined dribbling skills and the ability to shoot accurately while on the move."
"In an average match, each player's ball control time is about 136 seconds."
"Kanzaki Shinichi was the first to realize this and willingly took on the risk of potential elimination to become 'it,' seizing the initiative in offense. He waited until the very last second to make his move, eliminating any chance for a counterattack from his opponent."
"A forward is someone who takes full responsibility for scoring, fighting until the very last moment. Shinichi not only dared to shoulder that responsibility but also changed his attack target on a whim, based purely on personal preference. He executed a high-difficulty pivot shot to hit No. 245, who was completely in his blind spot."
"This is precisely the ego-driven desire to win, unshackled by collective norms, that I seek. It embodies the selfishness that a striker must possess."
"The world-class players you idolize experience this kind of cutthroat battle every match. So, how does it feel to bet your life on a game for the first time? Were you scared? When Shinichi was chasing you, it felt like encountering a wild beast barehanded in the wilderness, didn't it?"
"You were terrified, weren't you? Your scalp tingled, and maybe you even got goosebumps. But when the game ended, wasn't there a sudden sense of relief? A thought of, 'Thank goodness, I'm still here!'?"
"That's the feeling of victory! Just as Shinichi said, some of you may have seemed inadequate in his eyes, yet you're the ones who remain. Meanwhile, a more skilled player was eliminated. That's how merciless the world of competition is. And now, in this first game, you are the victors!"
"Remember this feeling. Engrave it in your minds. Every time you savor this thrill, your sense of self will grow stronger. Eventually, each of you will have the chance to surpass Shinichi and get closer to the pinnacle of becoming the world's best striker."
"You're really getting into the role of a teacher, huh? Even serving up some motivational soup," Shinichi remarked with visible annoyance, openly derailing Ego's narrative. "If this bunch is the best they've got, they won't surpass me in a hundred years."
"Kanzaki Shinichi," Ego responded, unfazed. "Given your performance, I can offer you some special training. How does it feel? Enjoyable, right? The sensation of deciding someone's fate, destroying their future?"
"Not really. It's pretty ordinary," Shinichi replied dismissively. "All I did was eliminate an unremarkable player. There's no thrill, not even a sense of accomplishment."
"Without a worthy opponent, I can't get excited. If I had eliminated someone like Noel Noa, I might have been happy for a day—then forgotten his name within a week. Whoever stands in my way must fall. That's all there is to it."
"Excessive confidence can border on foolishness... but for now, stay as you are," Ego remarked coolly. "The third round… is coming. But for now, congratulations—you've passed the Blue Lock admission test."
"As Shinichi mentioned earlier, the 11 people in this room now form a team. From this moment forward, you will live together as a single unit. Sometimes you'll support each other, sometimes betray each other, and sometimes crush each other's dreams. Welcome to Blue Lock's Team X."
...
"Whoa, whoa, is that even human? Weren't we told everyone summoned here is under 18?"
"At that speed, why isn't he specializing in track and field? His talent completely outclasses us."
"Not just track and field—every single test category, he's way ahead of the pack. If there were a talent chart, he'd be on a completely different level… no, at least two levels above us!"
In a room filled with training equipment, a group of people huddled together, whispering among themselves. Naturally, the focus of their discussion was none other than Shinichi, who was undergoing testing.
"Got nothing better to do?" Shinichi shot a sharp glance at the group watching him. He wasn't about to let himself be treated like a circus monkey.
That single glare was enough to scatter the crowd like startled birds—except for one person, who stayed behind silently, staring at him.
"Hiori Yo? What do you want?" Shinichi sighed, setting down the dumbbell he was lifting.
Casually, he grabbed a towel to wipe his sweat.
His exceptional memory, honed by his golden-level talent, recalled this character who barely made an appearance in the anime's finale.
"I'm just curious," Hiori began, his tone calm. "Why do you play football? You're so strong—surely everyone has high expectations of you."
For a moment, Shinichi was caught off guard. Based on the anime's ending, he had pegged Hiori as someone like Bachira, someone who played for the sheer joy of it.
But now?
This guy seemed more like a walking annoyance.
Shinichi, remembering how intense his own clashes with Isagi and Kaiser were in the manga, waved dismissively, irritation creeping into his voice.
"Other people's expectations? There's plenty of that nonsense. Why should I live my life for something like that?"
"Running, chess, archery—pretty much every sport I've tried, I've excelled at. And every single time, those people begged me not to waste my talent, to keep pursuing it."
"But why should I care? I just do whatever I feel like doing," Shinichi replied casually, his tone indifferent. "Right now, football is interesting. Blue Lock is interesting. So, I play football. If tomorrow basketball has a 'Generation of Miracles' popping up, I'd switch to basketball just for the fun of it."
"But didn't you say you want to become the best in the world? Doesn't that goal matter to you? Isn't there something—or someone—who gave you that expectation, pushing you to—"
"Stop. Just stop," Shinichi interrupted Hiori's rambling, raising a finger to emphasize his point. "Get one thing straight. It's not that I want to become the world's best. I will become the world's best. It's a fact—something no one can change, an inevitable reality."
"So, your so-called expectations? They don't matter. Whether they exist or not, it doesn't change a thing. I only act based on what I find enjoyable. That's all there is to it."
With that, Shinichi grabbed his towel and walked off, leaving Hiori standing there, speechless.
Hiori thought back to what Karasu once told him: to embrace others' expectations and strive for greatness.
Yet for Hiori, expectations—anyone's expectations—meant nothing.
The mere thought of the word was enough to make him feel sick.
Born into a family of elite athletes, expectations were all Hiori ever knew.
Their only demand was for him to be the best, devoid of affection or support.
The moment he failed to meet those expectations, the family bond would crumble, as if it had never existed.
To keep his family intact, Hiori continued playing football, but coming to Blue Lock was, in truth, an escape—a way to get as far from them as possible for as long as he could.
Yet, for the first time, Hiori encountered someone who could disregard all of that.
Karasu couldn't do it.
Nor could the other so-called "prodigies" blinded by the expectations of parents and coaches, mistakenly believing they were chasing their own dreams when they were really just products of others' desires.
Only Shinichi, this truly free individual, could live untouched by the expectations of others.
Hiori realized that if he hadn't come to Blue Lock, he never would have met someone like Shinichi.
Perhaps the weight of expectations Hiori couldn't bear could be shifted onto Shinichi, who wouldn't care about carrying yet another burden.
Because of Shinichi's confidence, his talent, his performance during the first game of "tag," and even his flaws, Hiori saw something in him.
In that moment, as they exchanged glances during their discussion, Hiori was certain: Shinichi saw the same horizon he longed for.
Hiori instantly dismissed all of Ego's lofty words.
After all, he never really aspired to be the best in the world.
But he had realized something.
Kanzaki Shinichi—this man didn't care about the title of "World's Best."
His eyes were fixed on something far beyond that.
His ambition, Hiori concluded, was far more terrifying than anyone else in Blue Lock—even more so than the creator of this system, Ego Jinpachi.
Despite not carrying the weight of anyone's expectations, what was it that drove Shinichi to this point?
Hiori was certain: even though Shinichi made it sound effortless, he wouldn't stop until he reached his ultimate goal. Could it really be as simple as he claimed? Driven purely by interest? By the laughable reason of something being "fun"?
Hiori suddenly recalled Shinichi's attitude during the first game. Perhaps Shinichi never saw any of this as a challenge.
To him, it was just a "game" he was destined to clear.
"Honestly, what a single-minded guy," Hiori murmured.
But for the first time in his life, something inside him burned with excitement.
He felt an allure—something completely different from Ego's rhetoric—something utterly insane that was drawing him in.
Even if their meeting was a coincidence, it was enough to give Hiori a reason to fight.
He couldn't bear the thought of Shinichi's talent going to waste.
And standing by Shinichi, he would witness the turning point in football history.
Watching from the sidelines as Shinichi rose to greatness, step by step, and as the storm that would sweep through the football world took form, Hiori knew he would feel something unique—something no other football player could ever experience.
He, Hiori Yo, wanted to see just how far Shinichi could go while carrying the weight of his expectations.
For that vision, Hiori was willing to become the "carpet" paving Shinichi's path to the throne of history.
He would dedicate his life to that future.
This wasn't a choice made for him by someone else—it was the path Hiori had chosen for himself.
Of course, what Hiori didn't know was that Shinichi wasn't lying about certain things.
If he ever did encounter a "Generation of Miracles," he probably would drop football and dive headfirst into basketball.
After all, the system driving Shinichi was the "Legendary Athlete" system, not restricted to football.
He had only picked football because the "Blue Lock" main storyline seemed interesting, and he was using it as a way to level up.
If such a thing ever happened, and Shinichi really switched to basketball, Hiori—who had silently bet his life on Shinichi's success—might just become a professional hitman overnight.
The next day, he'd be hunting Shinichi down like someone planning to take out a world leader.
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