[Don Lorenzo makes a precise interception, cutting off Charles Chevalier's brilliant pass. Now, Ubers is launching their counterattack!]
With the enthusiastic commentary from BLUE LOCK TV, the center-back Lorenzo unexpectedly charges forward with the ball.
Facing P-X-G's defensive pressure, he simply flicks a diagonal pass while moving, sending it perfectly to the spot where Aiku is waiting.
Aiku, without a moment's hesitation, immediately taps the ball ahead. Lorenzo, already in position due to his off-ball movement, seamlessly receives it again. The fluidity of their passing dismantles the opposing defense effortlessly.
"Isn't he a defender? Why is he pushing so far forward?" Zantetsu matches Lorenzo step for step, relying on his speed. But Lorenzo's bizarre, erratic movements throw him off entirely—his upper body and lower body seem out of sync, as if two different people's limbs were forcibly combined, making it impossible to predict his balance or trajectory.
As Zantetsu focuses intently on reading Lorenzo's next move, the "zombie-like" footwork unexpectedly leaves him behind. Those highly deceptive maneuvers render Zantetsu's usually unbeatable speed completely ineffective.
"I didn't know you were this eager to defend," Zantetsu mutters.
However, just as Lorenzo shakes off Zantetsu, he abruptly pulls back and spins around, returning to Zantetsu's position. When Zantetsu finally steadies himself, he notices Charles Chevalier is already behind him, poised to intercept. A split second slower, and Lorenzo would have lost possession.
"There's a lot you don't know, you gold-toothed zombie freak." Charles scowls, baring his sharp tiger-like teeth. His large, expressive eyes now gleam with a fierce, predatory intensity. "I'm doing the things you can't anticipate. If you think you can pull one over on me at the start, I'll be sure to crush your plans!"
Facing the aggressive charge of Charles and the recovered Zantetsu closing in on him, Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, bent his body to dodge Charles's outstretched leg, and nudged the ball sideways with his foot. "Sure, sure, you contrarian. I can't figure you out."
"Still... do you even know who our ace is, and you're deliberately not defending him? Keep that up, alright?"
While Lorenzo held everyone's attention, Shinichi, who had been moving at a steady pace in line with the rest of the team's advance, suddenly made his move. He dashed forward, found an open space, and received Lorenzo's pass.
"Show me that 500-million-yen shot," Lorenzo called.
"As you wish," Shinichi replied calmly. He raised his right foot, staring down at the charging goalkeeper, who gritted his teeth and spread his arms wide to make a block.
In Shinichi's eyes, a sharp glint appeared. As he went to strike, his right foot paused for an almost imperceptible moment.
That barely noticeable hesitation was enough to make Renoir second-guess himself for a fraction of a second.
And in that brief moment of uncertainty, it was as if Renoir's body froze. He felt as though an icy chill surged from all directions, slowly stiffening his joints, transforming him into an immobile ice sculpture.
In the end, all Renoir could do was stand, drenched in sweat, and watch as Shinichi calmly completed his shooting motion right in front of him—
Boom!
In that instant, it seemed as if the goalkeeper could see the flames of battle roaring within the flying soccer ball.
He felt as though he had been transported to a chaotic battlefield, witnessing artillery shells wreaking havoc.
One particular shell seemed to be heading straight for him. In the fiery trail left by the projectile, he could even see the kind, familiar face of his long-departed great-grandmother.
Thunk—
A sharp, almost eerie sound echoed across the field. Credit where it's due: even with Shinichi's slight pause, Renoir managed to get into position to intercept.
But unfortunately, once Shinichi was able to unleash his full strike, the sheer force behind the cannonball-like shot was beyond what Renoir had anticipated. In the end, his reaction was just a fraction too slow.
If his dive had been just a bit quicker, if he'd blocked Shinichi's shot with his chest instead, there might have been a real chance of stopping it. But caught off guard, using his head to intercept that cannonball shot was already his limit.
As soon as the ball made contact, his neck snapped back grotesquely, like a child forcefully flicking the head of a doll. It was a terrifying sight. His body, struck as if by a missile, bent violently in midair before collapsing to the ground.
In that moment, even someone as competitive as Rin momentarily forgot his rivalry with Shinichi.
Everyone on the field, including even the usually composed Ego, stood stunned. Mouths hung open, their eyes darting back and forth between the convulsing goalkeeper on the ground and Shinichi's face. Only the impartial referee system faithfully announced the outcome of the confrontation:
Ubers 1:0 P-X-G
"No way... He couldn't have killed him, right?" Tokimitsu's trembling voice broke the stunned silence.
At last, the players snapped out of it, rushing over to try and help the poor P-X-G goalkeeper, Renoir.
But they were quickly shooed away by a team of medical staff sprinting onto the pitch with their kits.
In a situation where the player's condition was still unclear, letting a bunch of agitated players handle him could have done more harm than good—if he wasn't dead, their fumbling might have made sure of it.
"Nothing major, his neck might be strained, but the initial assessment shows no severe injury. Still, without proper equipment here, we'll need to take him off the field for a thorough examination," said the medical staff after a quick check. Looking at Renoir, who was mumbling vaguely about his great-grandmother, they added, "However, the player's consciousness is still quite unclear, so a concussion can't be ruled out. He definitely won't be returning to this match."
After briefing P-X-G's coach, Loki, two medical staff secured Renoir, placed him on a stretcher, and carried him off the field. Before leaving, they cast a respectful glance at Shinichi, who remained expressionless.
Though the injury wasn't critical, Renoir was a highly trained professional athlete with a physique far beyond that of an average person.
For him to suffer a potential concussion from such a distant shot was a testament to its power. If that ball had hit a normal person…
"They might really be meeting their great-grandmother," one medic thought with a shudder. They resolved to keep their distance from these top-tier strikers in the future. Money was important, but their own life was more so.
"I was sitting right there, waiting on standby," the medic muttered, still shaken. "That was terrifying!"
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