“PHWWWEET—!
PHWWWEET—!
PHWWWWEEEEEEEEET—!!!”
Three blasts of the whistle sliced through the roaring din above the Shibuya National Stadium, acting like three sharp blades that utterly severed the shackles of the old era.
Match over.
Blue Lock 4 : 2 Japan U-20 Representative Team.
This was not merely a victory in a football match; it was a violent revolution of ideals.
A group of previously obscure high school strikers—widely regarded as “heretics” by mainstream media—had devoured the U-20 team representing the nation’s glory right before the eyes of all Japanese football fans.
“W-We won?!
We really won?!”
Looking at the scoreboard in a daze, Igarashi Gurimu acted as if the reality hadn’t set in yet.
Suddenly, he let out a piercing shriek, throwing his whole body onto Raichi Jingo like a koala.
The pitch instantly transformed into a sea of blue.
Bachira Meguru rode piggyback on Chigiri Hyoma while wildly waving a towel.
Nagi Seishiro collapsed straight onto the turf, completely unwilling to move, only to be forcibly hauled up into a hug by Mikage Reo.
Even the perpetually bitter Barou Shouei, despite his brows remaining tightly knit, let out a soft huff through his nose as he stared at the grass beneath his feet.
The spectators in the stands went wild as well.
They had witnessed history with their own eyes.
The final blow by Isagi Yoichi, the terrifying breakthrough by Itoshi Rin, and, of course, that monster of a goalkeeper, Rin Kazuki, who had protected the net while spouting high-concentration trash talk the entire game.
Camera flashes flickered furiously, immortalizing the sweat and smiles of these boys.
However.
Amidst this nation-wide jubilation, in the Blue Lock coach’s booth…
“Incredible!
Absolutely incredible!!
Ego-san!
Did you see that?!”
Teieri Anri, the woman who had been running herself ragged for the revival of Japanese football, could no longer care about her image.
Her eyes were bloodshot, tears long since soaking her cheeks, as she excitedly shook the back of Ego Jinpachi’s chair.
“We won!
These kids actually did it!
They beat the national team!
This proves that Blue Lock’s philosophy is correct!
Japanese football is saved!!”
Anri’s voice trembled.
This was the moment she had dreamed of.
She had originally braced for a brutal, desperate struggle—even preparing to face total disgrace and ruin in the event of a defeat—yet it culminated in a sweeping 4–2 victory.
Even the harshest critics would be forced to shut their mouths when faced with this scoreline.
Yet Ego Jinpachi gave her no immediate response.
As usual, Ego sat with his legs crossed.
His gaze pierced through the data streams of the monitor array, his attention locked onto the man slowly taking off his gloves in front of the goal—Rin Kazuki.
“Anri-chan.”
Ego’s voice was low and raspy, devoid of even a fraction of joy from the victory, carrying instead a trace of sheer impatience.
“You’re being too noisy.”
Anri froze, the excited expression congealing on her face.
“Eh?
But…
Ego-san, isn’t this something worth celebrating?
This is…”
“Celebrating?”
Ego pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose, the glare off the lenses obscuring his eyes.
“Take a closer look, Anri.
Look at those trash-tier kids celebrating down there.”
He extended a scrawny finger, pointing toward the crowd.
“Look at their expressions.
Is that the ‘monstrous ecstasy’ evolved after experiencing a life-or-death battle?
That is merely a simple, mundane ‘sense of relief,’ as if they just finished a homework assignment.”
“What…
do you mean?” Anri was completely unable to grasp his point.
“This match was won too easily.”
He brought up the match’s analytical chart, pointing at the series of staggering defensive stats.
“Originally, according to my script, this should have been a hellish furnace that backed their Egos into a corner.
The collapse of the defensive line, physical exhaustion, the sheer sense of helplessness when facing a genius of Itoshi Sae’s caliber…
Only in that swamp of despair would they be forced to undergo a chemical reaction to survive, bound to evolve a new weapon that defies logic.”
“Just like Isagi Yoichi’s final goal—that was the embryonic form of an evolution born out of survival.
But…”
Ego’s tone shifted sharply as his finger tapped heavily on Kazuki’s icon on the screen.
“Because of this Rin Kazuki’s existence, that sense of despair never truly descended.”
The tablet replayed footage of Kazuki barkingly directing the defense, as well as his two crucial saves.
A trace of grit remained in Ego’s voice.
“He predicted every single danger in advance.
Like a nanny, he told every defender where to stand and how to block.
He even used trash talk to disrupt the opponents’ mindsets, completely scattering the U-20’s offensive rhythm into pieces.”
“And the result?”
Ego let out a cold sneer.
“The result is that although our defensive line looked shaky, it was actually as solid as a rock.
Our players never felt that genuine terror of ‘if I don’t score, I’ll die,’ because in their subconscious, they knew—”
“—Even if they made a mistake, it didn’t matter.
That bastard keeper behind them would cover their asses.”
Anri was stunned.
She had never considered the issue from this angle.
In her mind, wasn’t having a powerful goalkeeper a good thing?
“Ego-san, but Kazuki-san’s performance was genuinely world-class, and he also…”
“That is precisely the problem!” Ego cut her off sharply, his voice rising a few pitches.
“What I want to create is the ‘World’s Number One Striker,’ a lone wolf capable of tearing through defensive lines on his own in any adversity!
Not a group of well-behaved babies playing ‘rational football’ under the protection of an elite goalkeeper!”
“This kind of dirt-cheap victory aborted an opportunity for a true monster to be born from absolute desperation.”
To Ego Jinpachi, this victory was like a cup of coffee with way too much sugar added—sweet as it was, it lost the original, mind-awakening bitterness.
Kazuki’s existence was like a bug, skipping the process of “painful evolution” entirely and granting Blue Lock an outcome that appeared flawless on the surface, yet lacked spiritual depth.
“If it’s just about winning a match, he gets full marks.
But if it’s for the ‘Blue Lock’ project…” Ego narrowed his eyes, a dangerous light flashing across their depths.
“He is the biggest obstacle, and also the biggest…
wildcard.”
Down on the pitch, the celebrations gradually wound down.
The players began acknowledging the crowd, basking in hero-like treatment.
Ego looked at Kazuki on the screen, who seemed detached from the crowd, staring boredly up at the sky.
That man seemed to have predicted all of this long ago.
Even in the final moments of the match, he had the spare time to mock Isagi’s shooting form.
“Anri.”
“Y-Yes!” Still in shock, Anri instinctively snapped to attention.
“Go make the arrangements.”
Ego picked up a pouch of instant energy jelly from the desk, took a hard sip, his eyes unfathomably deep.
“I want to have a private chat with that arrogant goalkeeper.”
“Right after everyone finishes celebrating.
Bring him to my monitoring room.”
“Go.”
…
Meanwhile, in the Blue Lock locker room.
There was none of the “well-behaved baby” atmosphere Ego had envisioned; it was practically a zoo that had just been hit by a typhoon.
“Hey!
That ball earlier, I could’ve totally passed it to you, you just didn’t run into position!”
“Ha?!
This genius ran into position, your pass was just too slow!”
And right in the center of the room, Kazuki sat sprawled out on the bench, using a towel someone had stuffed into his hands to wipe his hair.
“Kazuki!
That mouth of yours is a literal biological weapon!” Raichi Jingo grumbled while stripping off his drenched jersey.
“I was defending up front, and all I heard was your buzzing scolding from behind!
I almost had a mental breakdown!”
“Exactly.” Niko Ikki adjusted his bangs, protesting in a small voice.
“What do you mean ‘peeping tom’?
That was my spatial awareness…”
“Also, that final long ball was way too reckless!” Isagi Yoichi walked over.
Although his tone carried complaints, he still extended a fist.
“Though…
it was a good pass.”
Kazuki glanced at Isagi’s extended fist, making no move to bump it, instead letting out a soft chuckle.
“Reckless?”
He looked around at the group of teenagers who had just taken down the match and were currently at the peak of their excitement.
“If I hadn’t been herding you guys like sheep from behind, you’d have been turned into a sieve by Itoshi Rin’s stone-faced brother long ago.”
“Don’t go thinking you’re invincible just because you won one match against the U-20.
Today’s victory was merely because the opponents were too weak, plus you guys got lucky having me around.”
“Without me, with your sieve-like defense and constipation-level offensive conversion rate…”
Kazuki walked to the door of the locker room, turning back to flash a signature sly smile.
“You’d probably get beaten so badly you’d cry for your mommies.”
“You bastard!
What did you say?!”
“Are you looking for a fight?!”
The locker room erupted once more, a few hot-tempered ones nearly charging forward.
Right at that moment, the locker room door was pushed open.
The originally rowdy space instantly quieted down.
Dressed in formal attire that still failed to conceal her good figure, Teieri Anri stood at the doorway with a somewhat complex expression.
She first glanced at the chaotic group of players, before her eyes settled on Kazuki, who stood right at the front.
“Kazuki-san.”
Anri’s voice carried a hint of sternness, making Raichi and the others, who were about to explode, shut their mouths.
“What’s up?
Are you giving me a bonus?” Kazuki raised an eyebrow, looking entirely unfazed by Anri’s arrival.
“No…” Anri took a deep breath.
“Ego-san wants to see you.”
“Right now!
Alone!”
The moment those words dropped, the atmosphere in the locker room instantly became subtle.
Everyone exchanged glances.
Facing the stares of the crowd, the expression on Kazuki’s face didn’t change in the slightest.
On the contrary, the amusement in his eyes grew even thicker.
“Finally came, huh.”
He casually tossed the towel in his hand to Isagi next to him (Isagi: *Why me?*), straightening his nonexistent collar.
“Looks like even that instant-noodle-haired guy with glasses has finally realized who the real ‘main character’ is.”
Kazuki took a step forward, walking toward the door.
As he passed by Anri, he didn’t pause, merely whispering a line:
“Lead the way, beauty.
Don’t keep that ‘control freak’ waiting.”
Watching Kazuki’s departing back view, Isagi clutched the towel in his hand, an inexplicable premonition surging in his heart.
Although this match had ended, the true storm of Blue Lock had perhaps only just begun.
In the hallway, footsteps echoed.
Kazuki looked at the tightly closed black door at the end of the corridor, the corner of his mouth hooking into an insanely arrogant arc.
He reached out his hand, pushing open the heavy black door without a shred of hesitation.
“Yo, Four-Eyes.
What do you want me for?”