The visual impact of that single-handed catch was so terrifying that after Kazuki finished his mockery, the entire stadium—following a brief wave of clamor—actually plunged right back into a bizarre silence.
The U-20 striker, Sendo Shuto, had a face flushed completely red, looking as though he had been violently slapped across the cheek, his lips trembling yet unable to utter a single word.
The one to break this dead silence was still the man standing in front of the goal, clutching the ball in his hand.
“Hey, who gave you permission to breathe a sigh of relief?”
Niko Ikki had just wiped away a cold sweat and was preparing to wave at Kazuki to thank him for the save, but his hand froze halfway through the gesture.
Aryu Jyubei was in the middle of fixing his flowing long hair, and his movement stopped mid-air as well.
Holding the ball in one hand, Kazuki slowly took two steps forward, his eyes brimming entirely with ridicule and the look of someone staring at absolute garbage.
“That shot just now, you actually let him unleash it?
Are you guys joking with me?”
He slammed the ball violently against the ground.
The football bounced back up and was steadily trapped under his boot.
“Niko Ikki!” Kazuki’s finger practically poked right at Niko’s forehead.
“Why did you slow down after you blocked the inside lane?
Do you think pushing the guy wide means everything is fine?
If that striker just now wasn’t a dumbass who only knows how to rely on raw power for a miracle, but an intelligent player who knows how to execute a cutback, our net would already be riddled with holes by now!
Are your eyes only capable of seeing the tiny patch of dirt right in front of you?”
Niko wanted to fire back, but his mind instantly simulated the scenario Kazuki described—yes, if Sendo had chosen to pass it back just now…
the consequences would have been unthinkable.
“And you, Aryu!” Kazuki turned his head, his gaze becoming even sharper.
“‘Style’?
This is your ‘Style’?
Being walked thirty meters by an opponent like a dog, only to end up standing there like a wooden post to be a background prop?
If your long legs are just meant for striking poses, I don’t mind helping you saw them off.
At least that way your center of gravity might be a bit more stable!”
Aryu Jyubei bit his lip tightly.
If glares could truly launch daggers, Kazuki would have been turned into a sieve by now.
Kazuki had absolutely no intention of stopping, his line of sight sweeping across everyone in front of him in a true act of “indiscriminate strafing.”
“Raichi Jingo, running around like a headless fly, who are you leaving the defensive midfield position open for?
The air?”
“Chigiri Hyoma, where is your speed?
What were you thinking when you were tracking back?
Afraid of getting hurt?
If you’re that afraid of dying, then get the hell back to the stands and drink a cola!”
The slight trace of joy that had risen from the successful defensive stop was instantly shattered into absolute nothingness.
This bastard…
how come he wasn’t this good at talking trash when he was back in Blue Lock?!
“You bastard…
what the hell are you saying?!” Raichi Jingo was the first to explode.
The veins on his forehead pulsed violently as he lunged forward, baring his signature shark teeth.
“I put my life on the line just now to block the passing lane!
What right does a prick who just stands in front of the goal all day have to dictate things to us?!”
“Put your life on the line?” Kazuki let out a cold laugh, his condescending gaze making Raichi feel like a tiny insect.
“The result of putting your life on the line is letting the opponent comfortably launch a strike right at the top of the box?
Then your life really isn’t worth much, is it?”
“You—!” Raichi was so pissed he was about to throw hands.
“Don’t be reckless, Raichi!”
A figure rushed over, stepping right between the two men.
It was Isagi Yoichi.
As the current emotional leader on the pitch, Isagi knew they couldn’t afford internal strife right now.
Although Kazuki’s words were incredibly harsh, if they didn’t stabilize the situation, this match would be completely over.
Isagi turned around, looking straight at Kazuki with a complex gaze.
“Kazuki, that’s enough.” Isagi took a deep breath, trying his best to keep his voice calm.
“Your save was amazing, you really rescued us.
But everyone is putting their lives on the line.
The situation just now was a counterattack; it’s only natural for the defensive line to be in chaos.
There’s no need to speak so harshly, is there?
What we need right now is unity, working together to figure out a way to break through the U-20’s goal, not pointing fingers at each other here.”
Isagi felt his speech was highly appropriate.
It both acknowledged Kazuki’s contribution and preserved the dignity of their teammates, attempting to pull their scattered focus back together.
However.
Looking at the righteous Isagi trying to act as a peacemaker in front of him, the mocking arc at the corner of Kazuki’s mouth stretched wider and wider, finally erupting into an unconvincing sneer.
“Heh.”
This soft chuckle made Isagi’s expression freeze.
“I forgot to chew you out, didn’t I?” Kazuki leaned down slightly.
“Isagi Yoichi, have you mistaken something here?”
“Wh…
What?” Isagi instinctively took half a step back.
“The reason you ran over to play the peacemaker isn’t because you think I’m wrong, nor is it because you actually care all that much about how these useless trash feel.”
Kazuki’s voice dropped low, becoming increasingly chilling, like a devil’s whisper:
“You’re just afraid.”
Isagi’s pupils shrank violently.
“What did you say…”
“You’re afraid of this team collapsing.
Because if the defensive line shatters, you, as a striker, will be forced to waste your energy tracking back, and you won’t be able to wholeheartedly pursue that ‘selfish’ goal of yours.” Kazuki ruthlessly ripped open the subconscious inner thoughts of Isagi.
“Furthermore…
when you saw me save that ball just now, aside from surprise, the greatest emotion deep within your heart was actually ‘relief,’ wasn’t it?”
Isagi’s mind went completely blank.
“Relieved that the ball didn’t go in, relieved that the score didn’t fall behind, relieved that…
the responsibility for that surefire goal didn’t land on your head for failing to track back in time.” Kazuki’s finger lightly tapped against Isagi’s chest, every tap feeling like a heavy hammer strike.
“Your so-called ‘unity’ is nothing more than wanting to find a bunch of people to help you shoulder the risk of failure, so you can comfortably hide in the back and look for opportunities.
Is this your ‘egoism’?
It’s so cheap it makes me laugh.”
“That’s not it!
I…” Isagi wanted to argue, but his throat felt as if it were completely blocked.
That shivering sensation of having everything seen through left him entirely cold.
He couldn’t deny that the exact moment Kazuki caught the ball, he did indeed breathe a sigh of relief.
And this kind of “relief,” in the eyes of a top-tier competitor, was the ultimate symbol of weakness.
A deathly silence hung over the surroundings.
Kazuki stood up straight, no longer looking at the pale-faced Isagi, but surveying the entire pitch instead.
At this very moment, whether it was the Blue Lock teammates or the U-20 opponents, the way they looked at this man had completely changed.
His teammates hated him because he ruthlessly trampled over their dignity.
His opponents hated him because he contemptuously dismissed their strength.
But he didn’t care.
Or rather, this was exactly what he wanted.
“Listen up, you garbage.”
“I have no interest in playing ‘good friends’ with you guys.
A boring job like goalkeeping, doing it once is more than enough.
Next up…”
His gaze swept past the midfield, bypassed the stunned U-20 defensive line, and locked directly onto the goal at the furthest end of the pitch.
“Since you bunch of so-called strikers only know how to waste opportunities and can’t even hold onto the ball, then wipe your eyes clean and watch closely.”
Kazuki’s right foot slowly drew back, his thigh muscles instantly tightening, the lines bulging like a sculpture.
At this moment, an absurd thought flashed through everyone’s minds—
What is he trying to do?
This is our own penalty box!
There are still twenty-one people ahead of him!
Could he possibly want to…
“A striker’s mindset isn’t just about shooting, it’s also about how to create lethal opportunities.”
“Get the hell moving and find your positions!
If the ball gets delivered and no one receives it, I’ll break every single one of your legs!”
*BOOM!!!*
Like a cruise missile, the football instantly ripped through the air, unleashing a piercing howl as it roared right past the ears of Isagi Yoichi and Raichi Jingo, who hadn’t even reacted yet.
The whipped-up wind actually stung their cheeks.
“This is…” Up in the stands, Ego Jinpachi abruptly stood up from his chair, an unprecedented sharp light erupting from his dead-fish eyes.
“This spin…
this dropping point…”
The football flew across more than half the pitch, precisely slicing into the singular, most fatal “vacuum zone” between the U-20 defensive line and their goalkeeper.
And standing right there, a white-haired figure was currently drifting in a daze due to the failure of the previous counterattack.
Nagi Seishiro.
“Hey, you lazy genius,” Kazuki’s voice seemed to still echo in the air.
“The ball has been delivered right to your mouth.
If you spit it out, you’re dead.”
The storm had inverted.
With a single pass, Kazuki completely overturned the situation where they had been passively taking a beating just moments ago.
Standing in the backfield, he crossed his arms behind his back, watching the flying football as the corner of his mouth hooked into an incredibly arrogant arc.
“The counterattack begins.”