章 9: [9] Blue Lock ~ Activation!

"Hey, Yoichi, there's a letter for you. It looks like it's from the Football Association." Returning home dejected after a crushing defeat, Isagi mechanically stuffed food into his mouth.

He forced a smile, trying to hide his disappointment and not worry his parents.

However, as soon as he saw the letter, a spark reignited in his lifeless eyes.

"Why... why was I chosen? I'm just a nobody... from a weak team that couldn't even qualify for nationals. I didn't even get a chance to play in the last match…"

"But… this means… I… still have a chance… This time, I—!"

...

"Hyoma, this came for you. But… it's been so long since you've played football," his mother said worriedly, watching Chigiri closely.

Her heart ached from the memory of his injury, and she often wanted to forbid him from playing such a dangerous sport again.

Yet, she couldn't ignore the sadness that lingered in her child's eyes.

His father, however, casually handed the letter to Chigiri. "Don't worry about it. The choice is entirely yours. We'll never force you to decide anything."

"You just need to tell me—are you going?"

Chigiri took the letter from his parents.

He initially intended to refuse without hesitation, but his hand instinctively gripped his injured right leg.

His trembling voice betrayed his true feelings, completely defying his brain's commands: "I… I want to go…"

...

Meanwhile, at a temple, a young monk jumped up and down with excitement after receiving his letter.

Somewhere else, someone silently cleaned their house and carefully covered the furniture with dust cloths.

In another school, two boys holding their letters met up, bumped fists, and made a promise to each other.

Isagi wasn't the only one tormented by dreams of greatness.

That night, countless young talents, driven by passion and ambition, lay restless, clutching their letters with hearts full of anticipation.

Ultimately, every single one of them would converge at the same "battlefield"—

Blue Lock!

...

"Yo! You're here." Leaning casually against the meeting room door, Shinichi greeted the two figures who had just arrived, raising his hand in acknowledgment. "But I didn't expect the two of you to show up together."

"Isagi Yoichi. Kira Ryosuke."

"Shinichi Kanzaki, of course you're here. It'd be strange if someone like you wasn't invited." Seeing the familiar figure who had haunted his nightmares, Isagi clenched his fists tightly. "I won't lose to you! Even if I'm not your match yet, I swear—"

"That's my line, Shinichi!" Kira interrupted, not willing to back down. "I'm grateful for your warning last time, but—"

"Well, well, you're all quite spirited, aren't you, my little 'diamonds in the rough.'" A burst of static cut through their heated exchange.

All eyes turned toward a slender man stepping onto the stage, wearing casual hole-punched slippers and sporting a bowl-cut hairstyle.

His lifeless, fish-like eyes swept across the room.

"As you can see, every one of you here has been selected by my own subjective judgment to form this group of 300 forwards under the age of 18."

The lights in the room suddenly dimmed, leaving a single spotlight focused on Ego Jinpachi.

The once-chaotic hall fell silent, and the elite players from across the country all directed their gazes toward this seemingly nonchalant figure.

"Oh, right, I should introduce myself first," Ego continued. "I am Ego Jinpachi, the guy hired by the Football Association to help our country win the World Cup. Not that it matters much."

As soon as the words "win the World Cup" left his mouth, the hall erupted into a buzz of disbelief.

The sheer magnitude of the goal, paired with the overwhelming flood of new information, left the young players whispering amongst themselves, trying to process it all.

Ego paused briefly, giving them time to absorb what they'd just heard. Once the noise subsided, he resumed speaking. "Difficult to understand? Let me explain it clearly, then."

A red light bathed him in an ominous glow, transforming his relaxed demeanor into something sinister.

He now looked like a demon risen from a mountain of corpses, a vengeful figure born from hell itself.

The manic energy in his expression sent chills down their spines.

"I'm conducting an experiment. From the 300 of you here, I will create the best striker in the world. And this facility is where the experiment will take place—"

"Blue Lock!"

"Starting today, you will live here together and undergo the special, elite training programs I've designed. You won't be going home, and you'll say goodbye to everything you thought you knew about football."

"But let me make one thing clear: if you win this survival game, if you eliminate all 299 of your competitors and are the last one standing—"

"You will become the world's greatest striker!"

"That's all for the explanation. Looking forward to working with you."

The hall brightened once more, revealing that the massive, pristine white door they had seen earlier was the very surface used for the projection.

...

"I can't accept this!" After a round of murmured discussions among the crowd, someone finally stood up to challenge Ego Jinpachi's words.

This time, it wasn't Kira Ryosuke. After all, he no longer had the chance to compete in the Nationals, and with an opportunity like this from a national organization, he was far less inclined to resist.

The cause of Kira's elimination, Shinichi, felt no guilt and silently smirked at the irony.

Meanwhile, the outspoken dissenter continued, "I worked so hard to make it to the Nationals! As my team's ace, how can I abandon my teammates just because of some unclear scheme you've cooked up?"

"Exactly! I'm preparing for the Nationals too. Who has time to waste on this? Shouldn't the government coordinate the schedule better if they're organizing a training camp like this?"

"Exactly! And look at you, the person in charge here. How can someone like you gain our trust? Get someone more responsible to lead this!"

"Suddenly demanding a closed training camp? This is absurd!"

...

"Hey, Shinichi, are you okay with this? Don't you also have to participate in the Nationals?" Isagi whispered cautiously to Shinichi as if realizing something.

"Just call me Shin," Shinichi replied with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't mind. I knew about the Blue Lock project long ago, so when I joined my team, I gave them a heads-up beforehand."

"Besides, they're already satisfied just making it to Nationals."

Isagi fell silent, feeling completely inadequate.

For him, qualifying for the Nationals was a dream so far out of reach, but for Shinichi, it was something he could casually give up on—a trivial accomplishment not even worth mentioning.

"Is that so? It seems you're all hopeless." Ego Jinpachi's sudden voice interrupted Isagi's spiraling thoughts, silencing everyone in the room.

His tone was icy, cutting through the lingering dissent like a blade. "If you honestly think that winning some low-level competition in this football backwater is more important than becoming the world's greatest striker—then lock off!"

The room froze as his sharp words echoed, his disdain unmistakable.

"The very thought of people like you carrying the future of our national team fills me with despair. Football is a sport where the ultimate goal is to outscore your opponent. Scoring goals is everything! The one who scores is the greatest, the only one who matters!"

"So if you're still more interested in playing your little high school games, stop wasting my time and leave." Ego waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away something filthy, his contempt for the crowd evident.

"Football is a sport for 'egoists.' It doesn't matter how the team performs, as long as I stand out. I'd choose a hat-trick for myself over a team victory any day."

"Shocking, right? But these are the very words spoken by the world's top players. Outrageous, isn't it?" Ego leaned back dramatically, striking a pose reminiscent of a JoJo character.

His words, however, grew increasingly provocative, gradually ensnaring the minds of those listening.

"But only egoists this 'outrageous' can truly dominate the field!"

"Picture this: it's stoppage time, the score is tied, and you control the ball in the final moments. It's just you and the goalkeeper. On the other side, your teammate has found an open space. A simple pass would secure the win for your team."

"In that critical moment, bearing the hopes of everyone around you, with victory and glory on the line—"

"You don't even glance at your teammate. Without hesitation, without a second thought, you take the shot yourself."

"Only a lunatic, a 'selfish egoist' of this caliber, is the player I want!"

Ego's voice grew louder, his words sharp as knives cutting through any semblance of doubt in the room. "Abandon all common sense. On the field, you are the only protagonist. Every action, every thought, every struggle exists solely for your goal. Your sole purpose in playing is to score!"

"To regard your own goals as the ultimate joy, to live only for scoring—"

"That is what it means to be a striker, isn't it?"

As Ego finished, the massive door behind him slowly creaked open.

He adjusted his glasses, the gleam from the lenses hiding the wild intensity in his eyes.

Spreading his arms wide, his frail figure seemed towering and monumental in the eyes of the young players before him.

Backlit by the opening door, his expression was obscured, and he appeared almost divine—like a shepherd guiding lost lambs into paradise.

But Isagi knew better. That path, for all its grandeur, was anything but noble. It was a gateway to madness, chaos, and uncertainty. Ego wasn't a savior; he was a devil—a lunatic luring them into an abyss.

Tap... Tap... Tap...

The sound of footsteps echoed, pulling Isagi from his swirling thoughts. He looked up to find that Shinichi had somehow already made his way to the front of the group.

"Well," Shinichi began casually, "this guy's definitely a lunatic. Some of what he says you should just take with a grain of salt."

"But if you become the best in the world, anything you say will be accepted as truth. Even if you claim that scoring is worthless and defending wins championships, people will believe you. After all, history is written by the victors."

He smirked before continuing, "But let's set all that aside—this project is pretty interesting, isn't it? Beating everyone else to become number one… how thrilling is that?"

With those words, Shinichi stepped forward, climbing onto the stage. He patted Ego on the shoulder. "I've been working hard to advertise this for you, haven't I?"

Ego brushed Shinichi's hand away with a scoff, but the grin creeping across his face was undeniable. "History is written by the victors? As expected, I didn't misjudge you!"

"You, Shinichi Kanzaki, are the most insane 'egoist' of them all!"

Whether it was Shinichi's bold example or the way his words stirred their competitive spirits, the rest of the players hesitated no longer.

One by one, they charged through the massive door, each determined to prove themselves.

Isagi exchanged a glance with Kira Ryosuke. Without speaking, they both made up their minds, joining the others and stepping into the unknown future beyond the great white door.

...

[Phase One of Blue Lock: Begin.]