Noa’s “Can you beat me?” hung in the air like a judge’s gavel, waiting for Isagi Yoichi’s response.
Isagi’s pupils shrank violently, his throat feeling as though it were stuffed with something.
Facing the pressure of the world’s number one, he instinctively shrank back, a crack appearing in the courage he had built up before this absolute strength.
“Well…
I don’t know…”
Isagi’s voice was somewhat weak, his gaze wavering.
“But after that…”
“Stop.”
Noa ruthlessly cut off Isagi before he could finish.
“Overturn it completely, starting from your thinking.”
“Your theory has been disproven.”
“Huh?” Isagi froze on the spot, not yet realizing where he had gone wrong.
Noa pointed at the constant streams of data jumping on the screen, his tone calm to the point of cruelty.
“In your plan, don’t throw in an ambiguous variable like ‘I’m not sure.’ Here at Bastard München, in this rational world, ‘not knowing’ is equivalent to noise.”
“Paint an ideal that can be explained in words from beginning to end.
Every single step and every cause and effect must be a clearly visible chain.
That kind of completely irrational thinking mixed with ‘I don’t know,’ filled with subjective observations and wishful thinking—my team does not need that kind of person.”
Does not need.
Those three words were like a heavy punch, slamming violently into Isagi’s heart.
He had been rejected.
Completely and utterly rejected.
Isagi clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms.
“Then…
then what am I lacking right now?
If it isn’t just numerical ability, then what else do I need?!”
Noa looked at the youth before him, who was on the verge of breaking down yet still pressing for answers, and fell silent for a moment.
“Isagi Yoichi, what is the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?”
“Huh?” Isagi was stunned by the question.
“Then tell me, was that first step an action taken to become the world’s number one?”
Isagi was struck speechless.
Noa slowly stood up, walked over to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, and looked out at Bastard München’s precision training facilities.
“Every second, every minute, all the moments of 365 days—did you really spend every single bit of it on becoming the world’s number one?”
Isagi felt his scalp go numb.
That way of living…
was practically an ascetic monk’s, no, a machine’s.
Noa walked back in front of Isagi, declaring from above, “Blue Lock is a place to create the world’s number one striker, isn’t it?
If so, arm yourself with the most extreme rationality.”
“Beat me to prove your theory!
Aside from that, everything else is nonsense.”
When Isagi stepped out of Noa’s room, the corridor lights felt exceptionally glaring.
His brain was in a state of chaos.
“Every second, every minute, all the moments of 365 days…”
Without realizing it, he hadn’t walked back to the dormitory, but had instead arrived at the indoor training pitch.
It was already late at night, and the vast pitch was completely empty, with only a rhythmic *thump, thump* coming from a corner.
Isagi looked over toward the sound, only to see a familiar figure flying across the pitch.
It was Rin Kazuki.
At this moment, the football seemed glued to Kazuki’s feet.
Yet, Kazuki’s figure was like a streak of black lightning, weaving effortlessly through these obstacles.
Sudden stops, cuts, step-overs, Marseille turns…
Every movement was terrifyingly fluid, without a single wasted twitch, his breathing rhythm not even breaking.
Isagi stood at the edge of the pitch, mesmerized.
Just looking at this dribbling technique, Kazuki was even more terrifying than some professional wingers he had seen on film.
“Phew…”
Kazuki drove the ball past the final obstacle, flicked it up lightly with his right foot, and sent it obediently nestling into the back of the net.
He casually wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, turned his head toward the sideline, and curled his lips into a playful arc.
“Yo, Isagi.
Not sleeping late at night, running over to peep at yours truly practicing?”
Isagi snapped back to reality, walking over with some embarrassment.
“Sorry, just passing by.
Um…
your dribbling is really strong.
It looks especially…
clean.”
“Nonsense, this is world-class goalkeeper footwork.” He casually kicked the ball toward Isagi.
“Since you’re here, wanna play a match?
I just happen to be missing a moving dummy.”
If it were usual, Isagi might have agreed, if only to steal some techniques.
But right now, having just undergone Noa’s spiritual cleansing, his brain was still a jumbled mess, leaving him with zero energy to face the crushing of Blue Lock’s strongest “monster.”
“No thanks, Kazuki.” Isagi trapped the ball under his foot and shook his head with a bitter smile.
“My…
my head is a bit messy right now.
I’m in no mood to play.”
“Messy?” Kazuki raised an eyebrow, walking over to the sideline to grab a towel and wipe his sweat.
“What, cried from being chewed out by that German robot?”
Isagi let out a sigh, sitting down on the bench by the pitch.
Facing Kazuki, who was both a rival and a “demon,” he strangely felt an urge to vent.
So, he recounted the conversation in Noa’s room just now, along with Noa’s theories on “rationality” and “living every second for the sake of being number one,” telling Kazuki everything word for word.
“…It was pretty much like that.
He said my thinking was full of uncertainty, that it was irrational trash,” Isagi said somewhat dejectedly.
The air fell quiet for a few seconds.
Immediately after, a burst of completely merciless laughter erupted.
“Pfft-hahahaha!”
Kazuki laughed so hard he bent double, as if he had heard the greatest joke in the world.
“Holy crap, that Noa…
as expected of the so-called ‘world’s best,’ his level of scamming people is number one too.”
“Huh?” Isagi was stunned.
“Scamming?”
Kazuki plopped down next to Isagi, unscrewed a water bottle to take a gulp, and roasted with a face full of disdain: “This dog really makes money way too easily.
That four-eyes spent a fortune inviting him over, originally hoping he’d teach some techniques, but instead this guy paints grand promises for you guys and preaches philosophy?
He might as well have hired me, I charge half the price.”
“But…” Isagi wanted to argue, “Noa makes a lot of sense.
Everything for football, the height of rationality…”
“Isagi, what do you think the purpose of football is?” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“Is it physical duels?
Or scoring?
Or maybe team synergy?”
“It’s none of them.”
Kazuki didn’t leave Isagi a gap to speak, continuing on his own, “At the end of the day, this is a competitive sport.
All tactics, data, and rationality are merely means.”
He stood up, looking down at Isagi, a wild, arrogant smile curling on his lips.
“I never believe in ‘friendship first, competition second.’ Pursuing victory is a gene hidden deep within human bones, a beast’s instinct.”
“Look at that pervert Shido.
Though his fetishes are a bit weird, his extreme hunger for goals and his primal desire for victory are the very fuels driving his body beyond its limits.”
Kazuki patted Isagi on the shoulder, applying quite a bit of force.
“Noa’s ‘rational’ theory suits him because he already stands at the apex; he needs to maintain it.
But right now, you are a challenger.
If even your thinking becomes mechanical and step-by-step, what are you going to use to create miracles?”
“Maintain your desire for victory, Isagi.
Whether it’s foundational abilities or that ‘Direct Shot’ of yours that isn’t too half-bad, learn to affirm yourself amidst denial.”
Kazuki’s voice echoed through the empty training hall, carrying a strange, captivating enchantment.
“Noa denies your ‘uncertainty,’ so you turn that ‘uncertainty’ into an unpredictable ‘possibility’ that he can’t foresee.
Don’t let yourself be trapped by that rigid logic—you’re an egoist who wants to devour everything, aren’t you?”
Having said that, Kazuki waved his hand, picked up the football from the ground, and hummed a tune as he walked toward the exit.
“I’m out, dead tired.
Think about it slowly on your own, just don’t blow your head open.”
Isagi sat blankly on the spot, staring at Kazuki’s departing back.
“Affirm myself…
amidst denial…”
These words were entirely different from Noa’s theory, one could even say they were directly contradicting it.
Yet for some reason, after hearing Kazuki’s “ruffian-like” remarks, the suffocating pressure Isagi felt from Noa actually cleared up quite a bit.
…
On the other side, Kazuki returned to the dormitory corridor.
After confirming there was no one around, the profound and enigmatic expression on his face collapsed instantly.
He clutched his stomach against the wall, letting out a burst of suppressed, uncontrollable laughter.
“Hahahaha…
that total dummy didn’t actually take it seriously, did he?”
Kazuki laughed so hard tears almost came out.
“I just spouted a few random lines of ‘chicken soup for the soul,’ slightly tweaking some toxic chicken soup I saw online before, and he actually listened so attentively!”
Recalling Isagi’s thoughtful expression, as if he had grasped the ultimate truth, he couldn’t help shaking his head with deep emotion.
“Tsk tsk, looks like not only do I play ball well, but my potential as a charlatan is S-grade too.
Should I ask that four-eyes for a raise another day?
Maybe I’ll just go become a ‘spiritual mentor’ or something, specializing in giving psychological massages to these kids who got scolded into depression by Noa, hahahaha!”
While laughing, Kazuki pushed open his room door.
Though he was mocking with his mouth, a sharp light flickered deep in his eyes.
“Still…
Isagi Yoichi, don’t disappoint me.
If you can’t even manage this level of self-reconstruction, you won’t be qualified to stand in front of my goal.”