As Isagi reveled in his triumph, the Blue Lock players also joined in for the celebration, their eyes wide in awe and disbelief. The air crackled with a strange mix of admiration and fear. They had witnessed greatness, but not the kind of greatness they were accustomed to. No, this was something darker. Isagi had become a force, a monster on the field, reveling in his own brilliance.
A sweet guy in everyday life, Isagi was now something else entirely—a predator, enjoying the thrill of playing with the U-20 team like they were toys.
His moves were calculated, sharp, and ruthless. It wasn't about winning for him anymore; it was about domination. And every flick, every touch, every step was meant to remind the world that Isagi Yoichi was not an underdog. He was the one in control.
The smile that played across his face was cold, ruthless. He was a predator enjoying the hunt, and the U-20 team? They were just prey.
Normally, Isagi was the kind of guy who'd share a laugh, smile brightly, and offer support to his teammates, but on the field? He was a different beast. He played for the thrill of it—the thrill of dismantling the best of the best. He wasn't just playing the game; he was bullying the U-20 team, humiliating them with scumbag moves that would make anyone shiver in disbelief.
He was a force of nature, and they all knew it. His moves were beyond impressive—genius. It was a masterclass in psychological warfare and football. Isagi had turned the tables on every one of them, and they couldn't help but admire the sheer brilliance of his cruelty.
Not far from the chaos, Sae, Aiku, and Rin watched the scene unfold. Aiku's mind was in overdrive, trying to process the intricacies of what had just happened. The way Isagi manipulated everything—it wasn't just a game. It was a psychological assault. But the look on his face told the story: he was impressed, but also afraid.
Sae, ever the composed one, stood with his hands on his hips, his face unreadable. But even through the mask, the frustration in his eyes was clear. He had been bested—outwitted, outplayed—and he couldn't understand how. Isagi had broken through his defenses without even breaking a sweat, and the sting of defeat gnawed at him.
But it was Rin who was the most affected.
Rin's expression burned with fury—pure, unadulterated hatred. His eyes were locked on Isagi, and they seethed with the weight of his defeat. The realization hit him hard: he wasn't just beaten by his brother, but by Isagi, too.
It was like a double blow to his pride.
First, Rin had been crushed by Sae's skill—Sae's brilliance. Rin had lived in his shadow for so long. But now, here was Isagi, standing taller, having humiliated not just Sae, but Rin too. Isagi had outplayed everyone, and Rin was powerless to stop it.
Worse yet, Isagi had made it personal. The way he mocked Rin, throwing in that little jab during the game—his teasing remark had been calculated. Every move, every taunt was part of a bigger plan to assert his dominance.
Rin had thought, maybe, just maybe, he could outshine Isagi. But instead, he was a mere pawn, a player in Isagi's grand chess game.
And Isagi wasn't just content with taking the win. Oh no. He had a message to send.
He had manipulated every player on the field: Sae, Aiku, and even Rin. He had pulled the strings, pushed them into a trap, and with a sly, almost sickeningly sweet pass to Rin, Isagi had cemented his complete control. Rin—who had once believed he could surpass Isagi—was now a part of his world, manipulated into playing his part.
He was toying with them. He had baited Sae into underestimating him, controlled Aiku's every move, and used Rin to complete the final act of his masterpiece.
The ball passed to Rin wasn't just an assist—it was Isagi's declaration: I own this game. I control everything.
And the world saw it.
Rin Itoshi stood frozen, his fingers twitching at his sides, his jaw clenched so hard it ached.
The goal had been his. His shot. His moment. Yet—
Nobody cared.
The stadium cameras weren't on him. The crowd wasn't chanting his name. The commentators weren't discussing his finishing touch. His Brother's eyes weren't on him.
Every single person was talking about Isagi.
Rin's stomach twisted in frustration. It was just like back then—just like with Sae. Every time he got close to seizing the spotlight, someone stole it from him. And now, it wasn't just his older brother.
Now it was Isagi.
Rin had already sworn to destroy Sae—to crush him so thoroughly that he could never look down on him again. But now, as he stood in the aftermath of Isagi's masterclass, a new fire ignited inside him.
I need to beat him too.
Not just Sae.
Not just U-20.
Isagi Yoichi.
Meanwhile, in the Blue Lock stands—
Anri Teieri sat at the edge of her seat, hands clenched into fists. She should have been thrilled. She should have been cheering at the top of her lungs after witnessing the brilliance of a Blue Lock player. And she was—partially.
But more than anything, she was shaken.
Because the goal she had just witnessed—that wasn't how the "greatest striker in the world" was supposed to play.
Isagi had torn through the U-20's defense like a mad genius, humiliating Sae, baiting Aiku, twisting the entire flow of the match around his vision. But in the end, he passed the ball.
A perfect assist.
And what was Rin's goal in comparison? A tap-in.
This wasn't supposed to be how Blue Lock worked. The entire project was built to create the best striker in the world. A goal-scorer. A selfish genius. Someone who would crush the world under their own name.
Yet here was Isagi Yoichi—the core of the team, the player pulling the strings, the one who had overshadowed every single person on the field—not by scoring, but by controlling everything.
On the field, Rin was shaking with frustration. On the Blue Lock bench, the other strikers were watching in stunned silence, wondering if they were even needed anymore.
And in the stands, Ego Jinpachi was smiling.
Because even though Isagi had challenged his entire philosophy, even though his way of playing spat in the face of everything Blue Lock stood for—
He was winning.
The stadium was still electric from Isagi's masterclass, the noise echoing through the air as Blue Lock celebrated. But on the other side of the pitch, near the center circle, Sae Itoshi and Sendou Shuto stood motionless, Sendou's eyes locked on the ball resting at his feet.
The reset whistle blew.
And in an instant—
U-20 launched their counterattack.
Sae, who had been silent and unreadable moments ago, detonated forward with ruthless intent, his usual laid-back grace now honed into a weapon. Every movement was razor-sharp, each step a calculated kill—he was done toying with his prey.
He had seen enough. He wasn't going to let Isagi dictate the match any longer.
"Move, you air-shot ace."
No hesitation. No second chances. Sendou's body moved before his mind could process it, fueled by a desperate, gnawing hunger to prove himself—not just to Sae, not just to the world, but to himself.
Sae's expression remained unreadable, a mask of cool indifference, but his eyes told another story. A fire smoldered beneath the surface, sharp and unrelenting. This wasn't the same Sae who had been playing mere minutes ago. This was something far more dangerous.
Across from him, Isagi felt it—a shift in the air, a weight pressing against his instincts. His pulse quickened. This was it. The moment Sae Itoshi stopped holding back.
Sae rolled the ball forward, his foot barely grazing the surface before launching a pinpoint, laser-guided pass to Chou on the left flank.
Simultaneously, Teru exploded down the right wing, ripping through Blue Lock's defensive shape like a scalpel, stretching them thin.
Blue Lock reacted in an instant—
Chigiri rocketed toward Chou, his blazing speed erasing space between them in seconds. Bachira shadowed Teru, mirroring his every step, his sharp eyes locked onto the winger's movements. Aryu and Niko tightened their formation, closing the gaps in the defensive line, an iron wall forming at the heart of the backline.
But this was exactly what Sae had planned.
Chou feigned an aggressive push forward—only to suddenly cut inside, dragging Chigiri with him like a lure reeling in its prey.
And at that precise moment, Sae struck.
A burst of acceleration—swift, effortless, lethal. A gap split open in the left half-space, and in the blink of an eye, Sae ghosted through it, untethered and unmarked.
Chou, perfectly synchronized, flicked the ball back.
Sae had space. Dangerous space.
Isagi's breath hitched, eyes widening in alarm.
"Shit—!"
Before Blue Lock's midfield could collapse on him, Sae threaded a pinpoint through-ball into the penalty area—a pass that was neither too fast nor too slow, weighted with precision beyond comprehension.
And there—Sendou was waiting.
Karasu had tried to track him, but Sendou had already slipped past Niko and Aryu, ghosting into the box like a seasoned predator.
The pass was perfect.
Sendou was one-on-one with Gagamaru.
The stadium roared as Sendou cocked his leg back—
And struck.
The ball cut through the air like a bullet, low and driven toward the bottom left corner. Gagamaru had no time to think—only react.
For a fraction of a second, it looked destined to hit the back of the net.
But then—
Gagamaru moved.
Like a spring-loaded beast, his body exploded sideways, stretching every fiber in his frame. His fingertips barely grazed the ball—but it was enough.
SMACK!
The ball ricocheted off Gagamaru's fingertips, veering wildly off course, slicing past the goalpost before tumbling out of bounds.
A stunned silence gripped the stadium for a split second—then the noise crashed back in, a deafening wave of disbelief and awe.
Sendou stood rooted to the spot, breath caught in his throat, eyes locked on the ball's final resting place.
That should've been a goal.
Sae exhaled sharply, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly, his expression unreadable.
Blue Lock's untamed goalkeeper had just denied U-20's most dangerous opportunity yet.
"Corner kick!"
The referee's whistle cut through the air.
U-20 had earned a set-piece, but not the goal they desperately sought.
Sendou dragged a hand through his hair, jaw clenched.
'So close. So damn close.'
The sting of the missed chance gnawed at him.
As the U-20 players moved into position for the corner, Sae's gaze flickered toward midfield.
There stood Isagi, casually lingering near the center circle, exchanging a few words with Nagi.
They were laughing—light, easy, unbothered. Like this was nothing more than a weekend kickabout, a casual game among friends.
Sae's fingers curled into his shorts. He wasn't one to get rattled, but something about Isagi's carefree attitude—after all his theatrics—scraped against his nerves like sandpaper.
Was this really just fun for him? Just a game??
"Tch."
Fine then.
If Isagi wanted to play like that, Sae would show him that he could do the same—and more.
Sae took a few light steps forward and struck the ball cleanly with his right foot.
The ball whipped into the air, curling viciously toward the goal.
At first glance, it seemed like a cross—Sendou was in the perfect position to receive it.
But this wasn't a pass.
This was a shot.
A direct, curving corner-kick goal.
A move Sae had copied after watching Isagi perform something similar earlier in the match.
A move designed to use Sendou as a decoy.
Gagamaru's eyes widened as realization hit him too late.
"Shit—he's aiming for the goal!"
Gagamaru exploded toward the ball, but the trajectory was wicked—a vicious whip that curved hard, bending away from his outstretched hands.
The ball sailed past him—
And slammed into the top-right corner of the net.
GOAL!
The stadium erupted.
Sae barely reacted. He simply turned, walking back toward midfield, his expression unreadable.
He wasn't going to celebrate.
This wasn't about the score.
This was about sending a message.
He could do what Isagi did.
And he wasn't someone to be underestimated.
The scoreboard flickered.
U-20: 1 – Blue Lock: 3.
The game was far from over.
And now, Isagi had been challenged directly.
In the commentary box, the announcers were left stunned.
"Unbelievable! SAEEEEEE ITOSHIIIII!!"
"WHAT. A. GOAL!"
"Sae Itoshi just reminded the world why he's called Japan's prodigy! He didn't just score—he outplayed the entire Blue Lock defense AND their keeper!"
The cameras zoomed in on Gagamaru, still kneeling inside the goal, shaking his head in disbelief. He had reacted fast, but the ball had curved too quickly, too sharply. There was no saving it.
The prodigy had just thrown down the gauntlet.
The U-20 team didn't celebrate.
They were still two goals behind, and there was no time to waste. Yet, despite the scoreline, Sae Itoshi was fired up.
And standing across from him, with that same fire burning in his veins—Isagi Yoichi.
This was exactly what Isagi wanted.
He had a bet to fulfill. A hat trick.
Right now, he had scored only one goal.
And Sae had just thrown a challenge at him.
Fine. Bring it on.
Their eyes locked, the unspoken challenge passing between them. Neither of them looked away.
Let's settle this.
Isagi moved first, kicking off the play. He immediately sent the ball to Rin on the right wing.
And Rin?
Rin was more fired up than both of them combined.
The moment he received the ball, he launched forward with explosive speed.
There was no hesitation.
No doubt.
He blasted past the midfield line, heading straight for U-20's goal.
Wakatsuki stepped up to stop him.
But Rin was locked in.
He was already making his move—his body shifting, his foot ready to take control—
FWEEEEEEEET!
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
The referee blew for halftime.
The stadium froze.
For a second, Rin didn't move.
Then, his foot came to a slow stop, and his head tilted down.
He stood there, his entire body trembling.
Not from exhaustion—from pure, unfiltered frustration.
"Tch..."
His fingers curled into fists.
Every time. Every damn time.
When he was about to make his presence known—when he was about to show everyone why he was better than Sae—something got in the way.
It felt like the entire universe was against him.
Rin turned away, his expression blank, but the fire in his eyes raged like an inferno.
On the other side of the field, Isagi sighed but then laughed.
Not out of mockery—but pure amusement.
Rin Itoshi. This guy was so incredibly emo.
Like a kid throwing a tantrum because the world wasn't bending to his will.
Isagi placed his hands behind his head and smirked.
This second half...
Was going to be insane.
As the players began walking off the pitch, voices from the crowd called out to them.
"Hyoma!"
Chigiri's head snapped up, his sharp eyes softening for a moment. In the stands, his mother and sister waved eagerly, smiles wide with pride.
Just a few steps away, another voice rang out—
"Meguruuu!"
Bachira's eyes brightened instantly.
Up in the stands, his mother beamed at him, clapping enthusiastically.
She had always told him to enjoy playing football, to have fun, to chase after his monster.
And now?
She could see it so clearly.
Bachira wasn't just playing—he was thriving.
With an excited grin, he waved back, sending her a playful wink before jogging ahead.
"Yoichi!"
Up in the stands, sitting together—his parents.
His mother's face was glowing with happiness, eyes practically sparkling as she waved with both hands. His father followed suit, smiling proudly, nodding at his son with unmistakable admiration.
For a moment, Isagi just stared.
Then, a slow grin spread across his face, and he waved back.
His chest felt warm. Lighter.
Because his parents weren't just watching.
They were proud.
And not just proud.
They were realizing something—everyone was.
At the start of this match, the crowd had been filled with U-20 supporters. They came for Japan's elite.
They came for Sae.
But now?
That loyalty was starting to shift.
Because Isagi was dominating the match.
Because Isagi was the one they couldn't take their eyes off of.
More and more fans who once cheered for Sae and U-20...
Were now cheering for Isagi Yoichi.
And his parents?
They had never been prouder of their son.
.
.
.
The moment the Blue Lock players stormed into the locker room, the place exploded with noise. Cheers, laughter, and even some over-the-top celebrations filled the air as they basked in their well-earned lead over the U-20 team.
Rin sat silently in the corner, scowling. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to strangle someone—probably Isagi.
Yukimiya adjusted his glasses and flashed a charming smile.
"We should all appreciate the fact that I made their defense cry with my divine dribbling."
"Appreciate my ass, you nearly lost the ball twice"
Nagi yawned, slumping against the lockers.
"But whatever, we're leading, so who cares?"
Just then, the locker room door swung open, and Anri barged in, her face lit up with excitement.
"You guys were amazing out there!"
She beamed.
The room immediately quieted for a split second before Chigiri dramatically flipped his hair.
"Of course we were. We're Blue Lock's finest."
Gagamaru, still stretching in the corner like some bizarre contortionist, nodded.
"I made a god-tier save too."
Anri clasped her hands together.
"Seriously, this is exactly what we needed! You're proving that Blue Lock's strikers are superior!"
Bachira grinned and wrapped an arm around Isagi's shoulder.
"Did you hear that, Isagi? We're the superior ones. Bet Sae's fuming right now."
"I hope he is"
Isagi chuckled.
"I nutmegged him, and I don't think his soul has recovered."
Aryu, sitting elegantly with his legs crossed, adjusted his hair.
"It's only natural that we'd be leading. Our aesthetic level is leagues above theirs."
Niko, still catching his breath, muttered.
"I think my eyes are gonna fall out from trying to read their plays so hard."
Just as the Blue Lock players were basking in their glory, the locker room door creaked open again. The room fell into an eerie silence as everyone turned their heads—standing in the doorway, glasses gleaming ominously, was none other than Jinpachi Ego.
His usual unimpressed scowl was plastered across his face, like a man who had just been forced to watch a hundred hours of incompetent soccer.
"Alright, you pack of overexcited monkeys"
Ego sneered, his voice dripping with disappointment despite the scoreboard.
"Are we celebrating a lead or a victory?"
The players looked at each other, unsure if they should respond.
Bachira, of course, had no such hesitation.
"Technically, we're leading, so we—"
"Shut up"
Ego cut him off, adjusting his glasses.
"I came in here to remind you all that this match isn't over. If I wanted to watch a bunch of strikers pat themselves on the back for one good play, I'd be watching YouTube compilations titled 'Blue Lock's Top 10 Most Egoistic Moments!'"
Somewhere in the corner, Chigiri muttered.
"That actually sounds like a banger video…"
Ego pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"And you, Isagi Yoichi."
Everyone turned to Isagi, who was still sitting on the bench with a water bottle in hand. He blinked.
"Uh… me?"
Ego's glasses reflected the light, making him look like some kind of villainous mastermind.
"Tell me, what exactly was your goal with that assist?"
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.
.
.
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