One second, it was a hormone-fueled, “reproduction-level harmony” bicycle kick; the next second, it was physically exorcised by Kazuki’s fly-swatter-like slam.
Maintaining that awkward landing posture, Shido Ryusei’s face went from a bruised purple to a sickly pale.
The realm known as “Flow” that he had just touched was forcefully dragged back down to earth by Kazuki’s “strictly NSFW” comment, shattering into pieces.
[Ding!]
[Key plot point correction detected.]
[The host has successfully disrupted the “Flow” state of the U-20’s core striker, Shido Ryusei, and dealt a massive psychological blow to him (Shame Level: MAX).]
[Current Mission: Completed.]
The system’s cold prompt echoed in Kazuki’s mind.
At the very least, he wouldn’t have to wear a maid outfit anymore.
He glanced at the half-kneeling Shido, the corners of his mouth hooking into an amused arc.
“What are you still dazing off for?
Trying to hatch an egg here?” Kazuki looked down at Shido, his tone dripping with an incredibly grating mockery.
“Hurry up and get back to your half, unless you want to pick up a yellow card for public urination.”
“You…
bastard…” Shido gritted his teeth, a rare trace of bewilderment actually surfacing within those eyes that were usually full of primal wildness.
His rhythm was broken.
The perfect image of a “conception” goal he had constructed in his mind had turned into a lingering joke.
Meanwhile, the Blue Lock players looked at the back of their own goalkeeper, their emotions complicated to the absolute extreme.
“Too…
too strong…” Raichi Jingo’s mouth hung wide open.
“Even though that guy’s toxic mouth makes you want to rip it apart, blocking Sendo and Shido back-to-back is just unreal!”
Standing in the midfield, Isagi Yoichi watched the man pinning the ball down with one hand, his heart thumping violently.
Just a moment ago, everyone had abandoned hope, yet Kazuki had materialized there as if he had predicted the future.
“Kazuki-san…” Isagi clenched his fists.
*Even though he speaks terribly, he really is our most solid backbone.*
However, this sentimental moment did not last for more than three seconds.
Kazuki stood up straight, his gaze sweeping across everyone in Blue Lock as he suddenly toggled his map-wide strafing mode:
“Hey, I’m talking to the bunch of useless snacks upfront.”
Kazuki’s voice carried clearly across the entire pitch, filled with unvarnished disgust.
“Actually letting the opponent cross that easily, and then letting him execute a bicycle kick just as easily.
Are you guys VIP spectators who came to watch a show?
If the only purpose of your defense is to accentuate how incredibly awesome I am, then I admit, you did a flawless job.”
*Pfft.*
These words were like a dagger, precisely stabbing right into the hearts of every Blue Lock player.
This was the textbook definition of inflicting a thousand points of damage on the enemy while dealing twelve hundred to yourself.
They had clearly just survived a brush with death, only to be scolded like dogs by their own goalkeeper, and the worst part was they couldn’t even talk back!
“This €√$^° dog…” Veins popped violently on Itoshi Rin’s forehead, the tiny trace of joy he felt from their lead instantly vanishing into thin air.
“This is really irritating.” Nagi Seishiro also wore a rare expression of annoyance.
“I really want to kick the ball into our own net just to shut his mouth.”
Kazuki acted completely blind to everyone’s fury.
He dropped the ball to the ground, not bothering to wind up for a long ball like last time.
“Since you guys love watching shows so much, go play by yourselves.”
With a casual side-foot pass, he sent the football rolling softly toward Bachira Meguru, who was closest to him.
“Take it, children.
Don’t let the ball come back here again.
I’m very busy and have no time to wipe your asses.” Kazuki waved them off.
His posture made it look as though the person who had just saved a worldie wasn’t him at all, but rather some old grandpa strolling past the pitch.
“What kind of status do you think you have, breathing on the same pitch as me.”
Bachira received the ball.
Faced with Kazuki’s toxic tongue, the boy known as a “monster” didn’t get angry at all; instead, an excited smile spread across his face.
“Hee-hee, Kazuki-kun sure is strict.” Bachira flicked his toe, the ball seeming to come alive under his feet.
“Since he doesn’t want to wipe our asses, let’s just rush straight into the toilet…
ah, no, rush straight into the opponent’s goal!”
The match continued!
Although Kazuki’s “humiliation-style” motivation made them furious, it completely ignited the rage within the Blue Lock collective.
They refused to be looked down upon by that bastard guarding the net!
“Charge!!”
Bachira accelerated with the ball, his dribbling still filled with an agile, unpredictable flair.
“Don’t think you’re getting past!” The U-20 midfielders moved to close him down.
“Too slow~” With a massive shoulder drop to change direction followed by a Marseille turn, Bachira easily glided past the first line of defense.
By this time, Isagi had already intuitively begun his off-the-ball run.
He was searching for space, looking for a fulcrum that could trigger a “chemical reaction.”
“Bachira!” Isagi shouted.
“Roger that~”
Bachira didn’t hog the ball.
With a sharp through-pass, the football sliced through the defense and arrived at the feet of a surging Itoshi Rin.
Blue Lock’s strongest trio—Bachira Meguru, Isagi Yoichi, and Itoshi Rin—finally connected at this moment!
Although they barely tolerated each other, under the pressure of Kazuki acting as their “common enemy,” their coordination actually displayed an unprecedented level of fluidity.
“Here it comes!”
The three of them formed a delta shape as they tore into the U-20’s vital territory.
However, the U-20 was no pushover.
“Don’t get too arrogant, Blue Lock brats.”
A figure like a wall loomed right in front of Itoshi Rin.
It was the defender with the strange hairstyle and prayer beads hanging around his neck—Teppei Neru.
Though he looked like a mystic, his defensive fundamentals were exceptionally solid.
“Your path ends here.” Neru lowered his center of gravity, shutting down Rin’s shooting angle.
On the other flank, Japan’s strongest shield, Oliver Aiku, also completed his cover positioning, glued tight to Isagi’s support route.
“In such a tight space, that kind of coordination of yours is entirely meaningless.” Aiku said coldly, his heterochromatic eyes seemingly seeing through every passing lane.
A wolf in front, a tiger behind.
Staring at the defense before him, the value of disgust in Rin’s eyes peaked.
“Don’t lump me together with a flock of ants that can only gather in groups.”
Rin didn’t pass.
The exact moment he was sandwiched by Neru and Aiku, he executed a highly difficult maneuver—a feint completely modeled after his brother, Itoshi Sae.
A drop of the left shoulder, followed by an incredibly subtle touch with the outside of his right boot.
“What?!” Neru’s center of gravity was thrown off.
Seizing this fleeting gap, Rin forcefully unleashed a strike!
But this wasn’t just a regular shot; it was a curler carrying intense bend, aimed directly at the far corner of the net.
“He can shoot from there?” Isagi watched Rin’s back in shock.
“From that position, with that posture…”
The ball curled past Neru’s thigh, evaded Aiku’s sliding tackle, and traced a beautiful rainbow as it flew toward the goal.
Although the U-20 keeper made a diving attempt, he was clearly nowhere near it.
Did it go in?!
The Blue Lock substitute bench was already bracing to cheer.
However.
The exact fraction of a second before the football was about to fly into the dead corner of the net.
A red-haired figure materialized in the six-yard box like a ghost.
*Thwack.*
That surefire curling shot was intercepted.
It wasn’t the goalkeeper; it was a tracking-back Itoshi Sae.
The pitch fell right back into a brief silence.
Sae trapped the ball under his boot, looking at his brother who still maintained his shooting posture not far away.
His face bore no expression whatsoever, his gaze as detached as if he were looking at a rock on the side of the road.
“Is this your limit?
Rin.”
“You only learned my surface level, yet you threw away your own soul.
A limp, weak shot like this isn’t even worthy of being a warm-up for me.”
An absolute execution of the mind.
Itoshi Rin’s pupils shrank violently.
The humiliation of being completely dismissed by his brother made his entire body tremble.
The attack he had given everything for was actually so unworthy of mention in his brother’s eyes.
This was a total dimensional beatdown.
Not just technically, but psychologically.
The Japan U-20’s counterattack was about to begin.
Meanwhile, at the far end in front of the opposite goal.
Kazuki was leaning bored out of his mind against the left post, arms crossed, his right leg casually crossed over his left.
If there had been a toothpick available, he definitely would have been picking his teeth by now.
He watched this scene from afar, smacking his lips and shaking his head.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.
How embarrassing.”
Although Kazuki’s voice wasn’t as loud as before, he intentionally faced the camera lens near the baseline, pointing at Itoshi Rin who had just been humiliated by his own brother in the frontline, and then pointing at the bunch of teammates who had returned empty-handed.
“All that bark and no bite.”
He let out a yawn, his eyes completely filled with the exhaustion of watching a bunch of scrubs peck at each other.
“Hey, the one named Itoshi Sae.”
Kazuki suddenly raised his volume, his voice cutting through half the pitch to deliver itself accurately to the genius midfielder preparing to launch the attack.
Sae checked his stride, looking toward the goalkeeper who was standing completely out of posture in front of the net.
Their eyes locked.
One was the treasure of Japanese football, a cold genius midfielder.
The other was a goalkeeper monster who ran his mouth with endless trash talk, yet remained unfathomably deep.
Kazuki extended his right hand, executing an incredibly provocative “throat-slit” gesture.
Then he grinned, baring a row of stark white teeth:
“What kind of achievement is bullying your foolish little brother?
If you have the guts, bring the ball over here.”
“Let me teach you what true…
despair looks like.”