The second basement level of a massive entertainment center in Shibuya.
The area roared with electronic sound effects, the crisp clatter of falling coins, and the excited screams of young people.
Amidst this bizarre, neon-lit sea, a “special forces unit” with a starkly distinct aura was making its way through.
“Target confirmed.”
Walking right at the front, Otoya Eita lowered his voice, sidestepping a Dance Dance Revolution machine like a true ninja, pointing toward the shooting game zone in the corner ahead.
There, in front of the giant screen for House of the Dead, a white-haired figure hung his shoulders listlessly, yet the light gun in his hand pulled its trigger with an extraordinarily precise, mechanical rhythm.
*Bang, bang, bang.*
“He’s over there, that hassle of a guy.” Mikage Reo let out a sigh, walking over with long, fast strides.
Right at the instant “MISSION COMPLETE” flashed across the screen, Reo’s hand slapped down squarely onto that white head.
“Game Over, Nagi.”
Nagi Seishiro turned his head sluggishly.
In that moment, a flicker of surprise—the kind that comes from getting caught red-handed—flashed through his dead-fish eyes.
“Ah…
Reo.
And Isagi, everyone’s here…” Nagi blinked.
“Taking you out to eat, idiot.” Bachira Meguru leaned in with a grin, throwing an arm around Nagi’s neck.
“If we didn’t drag you away, would you have played here until you hit rank one?”
“Probably…” Nagi pondered seriously.
“The record on this machine hasn’t been broken yet.
The score for that number one spot ‘UMR’ is way too high.”
“UMR?” Isagi Yoichi froze for a second, glancing at the leaderboard, but that wasn’t the main point right now.
Having captured their target, everyone originally planned to head straight out to eat, but Bachira and Karasu Tabito couldn’t move their feet upon seeing the Taiko no Tatsujin machine nearby, insisting on showing off a bit.
After fooling around for over half an hour, the group finally made to leave, still wanting more.
“Where to next?
It’s still too early for dinner, right?” Yukimiya Kenyu glanced at the time.
“Looks like there’s bowling and karaoke upstairs.
Want to go kill some time?”
“Karaoke!
I want to sing!” Bachira raised his hand.
“I need to maintain my nails…” Aryu Jyubei looked down at his hands.
Just as everyone noisily took the escalator up to the recreational lounge lobby on the fifth floor, a group of equally eye-catching guys walked toward them from the opposite direction.
It was a group of youths dressed in trendy hoodies and cargo pants, radiating an equally extraordinary aura.
Walking right in the middle was a stubbled man with heterochromia eyes, a playful and uninhibited smile hanging at the corner of his mouth, oozing mature male pheromones.
Both sides came to a stop in front of the automatic doors.
The air seemed to freeze for a second.
“Yo?”
The heterochromatic man raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the Blue Lock crew before finally settling on Isagi.
“If it isn’t the geniuses of Blue Lock.
You actually have time to wander around the decadent world of Shibuya?”
Isagi recognized the person in front of him: “Oliver…
Aiku.”
Standing right before Isagi was the former captain of the Japan U-20 National Team whom they had just clashed with on the pitch a few days ago—and currently the strongest defender of Japan’s younger generation, Oliver Aiku.
Behind Aiku stood core members of the U-20 like Shuto Sendo, Kazuma Nio, and Teru Neppei.
From the looks of it, they were also taking advantage of the team’s disbandment and rest period to gather out on the town.
“What a coincidence, Aiku.” Mikage Reo stepped forward.
Showing no hostility, he offered a business-like greeting instead.
“Seems like everyone wants to relax before the storm hits.”
“Tsk, what relaxing.” Shuto Sendo, standing behind Aiku, turned his head away with a look of extreme displeasure.
“Just seeing you guys reminds me of the match we lost that day, and that…”
Sendo grit his teeth, seemingly recalling some unbearable memory: “That goalkeeper whose mouth was so toxic it felt like he chugged paraquat.
Hey, didn’t that guy named Rin Kazuki come?”
“He’s not here,” Chigiri Hyoma replied nonchalantly.
“Why, you want to find him to get cursed out again?”
“You!” Sendo turned red with rage.
“Alright, alright, Sendo.” Aiku smiled as he held down his teammate’s shoulder, a competitive light sparkling in his eyes nevertheless.
“Since we ran into each other, stepping past like strangers would be way too boring.
Although we lost to you in football, as your ‘seniors,’ we don’t want to lose in other fields.”
Aiku pointed to the bowling alley sign next to them.
“How about it?
We’re going to play a few games.
Since you guys have nothing to do either, why not have a ‘friendly match’?
The losing side pays for everyone’s dinner bill tonight.
Though we aren’t short on money, food tastes better when you win it, doesn’t it?”
This proposal instantly ignited the nerves of the Blue Lock group.
“Ho?
Interesting.” Karasu Tabito cracked his knuckles, making a popping sound.
“Ordinary men seeking to challenge those above ordinary men—that kind of courage deserves praise.”
“Bowling?
“Then bring it on!” Isagi’s competitive drive was ignited as well.
“Blue Lock doesn’t have an option to ‘back down from a fight.'”
Ten minutes later, in the VIP section of the bowling alley.
Four parallel lanes stretched across the room, providing a private and luxurious environment.
On one of the lanes, a tall man with spiked-up hair had his back turned to the crowd.
He wore a black jacket.
Then, he moved.
Standard approach, perfect arm swing, a textbook release.
*BOOM—!*
The bowling ball blasted into the pin deck like a black cannonball.
“STRIKE!”
A strike animation displayed on the screen.
“That’s…”
“Barou?!”
Barou Shouei turned his head, his fierce eyes instantly narrowing the moment he saw this huge crowd of people.
“Ha?
Why are you guys here?” Barou put on a look of total disgust, as if spotting cockroaches invading his territory.
“You bastards actually dared to step into the domain of my interest!”
“This is his own custom ball?
Impressive.” Nagi Seishiro scratched his head, reaching out his hand to touch it.
Barou instantly yelled, “Don’t touch my ball with your dirty hands!”
“Hey, Barou!” Isagi stepped forward.
“We’re playing a bowling match against the U-20 guys.
Want to join?”
And so, a chaotic bowling battle titled “Blue Lock VS U-20 + Barou Intrusion” officially kicked off.
The rules were simple: five players per team, three throws per person, total score format.
Lineups confirmed for both sides:
U-20 Representative Team: Shuto Sendo, Kazuma Nio, Teru Neppei, Hayate Haru, Oliver Aiku
Blue Lock Team: Mikage Reo, Chigiri Hyoma, Yukimiya Kenyu, Isagi Yoichi, Barou Shouei
First up to the lane was Mikage Reo.
As an all-rounder young master, he had touched almost every sport imaginable.
Reo took his approach and swung his arm, his technique as standardized as an instructional video.
*Thud.* The ball sliced in along a textbook trajectory—STRIKE.
“Perfect.” Reo casually tossed back his purple hair, drawing squeals from a few high school girls watching nearby.
The U-20 side wasn’t to be outdone either.
Relying on the formidable core strength of professional athletes, Nio and Neppei hit steady strikes or spares back to back.
Next up was Chigiri Hyoma.
“I don’t like balls that are too heavy, but that doesn’t mean I’ll lose.” Chigiri picked out a slightly lighter ball, utilizing his explosive leg power to drive his approach.
The ball traveled at extreme speed, striking the pin deck like a bolt of red lightning.
Although he missed the strike, he cleanly knocked down the remaining pins.
SPARE.
Following him was Yukimiya Kenyu, known as the “1v1 Emperor.”
“Bowling is a form of duel too, after all.” Yukimiya pushed up his glasses, displaying astonishing technique.
He released a hook ball with heavy side-spin, its curve as gorgeous as his dribbling past defenders on the pitch.
*Clatter!* STRIKE.
As the match reached its midpoint, the scores on both sides were deadlocked, trading the lead back and forth.
As the fourth anchor, Isagi was hard at work calculating the optimal angle of impact.
*I have to keep up with everyone’s tempo…* Isagi took a deep breath and made a solid throw.
While lacking Barou’s destructive power, he successfully secured a spare.
Meanwhile, U-20’s main captain Aiku demonstrated overwhelming consistency, hitting two consecutive Strikes to keep a tight hold on the score.
By the time the ninth frame ended, the point difference between the two sides was under 5 points.
The turning point occurred in the first half of the tenth frame.
Perhaps due to prolonged high-intensity focus, or perhaps due to an overeager desire to win, a slip-up occurred on Blue Lock’s side.
When Yukimiya Kenyu threw, aiming for a more extreme angle to sweep the remaining pins, the ball’s rotation hooked just a hair too much.
“Tsk…”
The ball grazed past the edge of the last pin without knocking it down.
OPEN!
In a tight match where every point counted, this was fatal.
Immediately after, the domino effect of pressure fell upon Isagi.
Looking at the widening point gap, a stray thought flashed through Isagi’s mind: *I have to hit a strike to stay in this…*
That tiny shred of hesitation caused his fingers to stiffen at the moment of release.
The ball veered off its intended path.
Although it knocked down 8 pins, it left behind an extremely difficult “7-10 split.”
Isagi attempted the spare, but failed.
Another OPEN!
At the same time, U-20’s Shuto Sendo and Aiku seemed blessed by divine aid at the critical moment, hitting back-to-back Strikes.
On the electronic scoreboard, the gap instantly widened to over 50 points.
Only Blue Lock’s final player remained—Barou Shouei’s three throwing opportunities (up to three throws in the tenth frame).
“It’s over.” Shuto Sendo glanced at the score, letting out a long breath of relief.
“Even if he gets all strikes from here, it’s gonna be almost impossible to catch up, right?
Unless a miracle happens.”
Isagi, don’t forget the Yakiniku.”
“Sorry…” Isagi clenched his fists, his face filled with unwillingness.
“I blew it.”
“Me too.” Yukimiya frowned as well.
“I shouldn’t have been so reckless.”
Just as this atmosphere of defeat began to spread, a figure frantically wiping his hands with an alcohol wipe blocked everyone’s view.
“Shut up.”
Barou Shouei tossed the spotless wet wipe into the trash can, his fierce eyes sweeping coldly over Isagi and Yukimiya.
“You’re only behind by 50 points, yet you ordinary men are standing here pulling funeral faces.
That’s why you can only ever be sidekicks.”
He picked up his custom black-and-red ball and strode toward the lane.
“Watch closely—this is the King’s ‘Order.'”
The situation right now was crystal clear: Barou had to hit three consecutive STRIKES in the tenth frame—the legendary “Turkey”—to narrowly overtake the U-20 team in total points.
A single mistake, or even a single throw that left 1 pin standing, and the game was over.
The whole room held its breath.
Barou moved.
He didn’t hesitate for a single second, his approach packed with wild, animalistic explosive power that made the floor emit dull vibrations.
First throw.
*BOOM!*
Carrying terrifying spin and force, the ball blasted into the pin set like a cannonball.
The pins didn’t just fall—they were blown away.
STRIKE!
Without a single pause, Barou retrieved his ball and stood in position once more.
His eyes didn’t show a single ripple of emotion, as if that perfect hit just now was as natural as breathing.
Aiku’s expression froze: *Under this kind of pressure, he can still maintain that power?*
Second throw.
The muscles on Barou’s arm bulged as he whipped the ball out fiercely.
The ball carved a domineering arc down the lane, striking the “pocket” between the 1-pin and 3-pin with pinpoint accuracy once again.
*BANG!!!*
Ten pins vanished in an instant.
DOUBLE!
Now, only the final throw remained.
The gap had been closed to just a few points.
As long as this shot was a strike, Blue Lock would turn the tables; as long as it fell short by one pin, U-20 would take the win.
Everyone in the bowling alley stopped what they were doing, gathering around to watch this decisive moment.
Barou raised the ball, taking a deep breath.
In his mind, there was no Yakiniku, no bet.
There was only a single urge—to purge all these standing “weaklings.”
“Kneel…
before me!”
Barou roared as he threw the final ball.
The momentum of this throw was even more wild than the previous two, carrying a whistle that felt like it could tear through the air as it charged straight for the end.
*THUD—BOOM!!!*
An earth-shattering crash rang out.
All the pins were cleared in an instant, squeaky clean, not a single one left behind.
TURKEY!!!
The numbers on the giant display jumped wildly.
In the end, the Blue Lock team’s total score settled at 2 points higher than the U-20 team.
“We…
WE WON!!”
Reo and Chigiri stared with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Isagi felt the blood surging through his entire body: “Incredible!
Barou!”
Yet at the center of the cheers, Barou Shouei didn’t give the giant screen a single glance.
He simply turned around, looking at his teammates rushing over in excitement like they were garbage.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Barou spoke coldly, causing Isagi and the others to freeze mid-motion.
“I just hate the feeling of losing, and I hate even more seeing a group of trash like you represent my team with such an embarrassing score.”
He walked up to Aiku, who was now thoroughly convinced, raising his chin haughtily.
“Hey, beard guy.
Don’t forget to settle the tab.”
Aiku smiled bitterly, raising both hands: “Ah, ah, got it.
I really have to hand it to your ‘Ego.’ Tonight’s Yakiniku is on me for you bunch of monsters.”
“HELL YEAH—!”
Looking at Barou carrying his bowling bag alone, walking at the very front with a look of pure disgust on his face, the corners of Isagi’s mouth couldn’t help curving upward.
Though he was a tyrant with a foul personality, in a desperate moment like this, that overwhelming “Ego” was indeed the most reliable weapon.
*So this is…
Blue Lock’s ace.*
A group of teenagers noisily thronged around that annoyed “hero of the hour,” heading off toward the Yakiniku restaurant.