The night air was cool and sharp, but the training ground burned with intensity. Under the pale glow of the floodlights, Renji Kurogami stood alone — except he wasn't really alone.
Two figures watched him from the edge of the field: Eiji Kobayashi, the forward known for his devastating long-range strikes, and Seiji Nakamura, the captain and ace of the old EOS legends.
Renji's breath was ragged, his muscles screaming from exhaustion — but his eyes were burning. He had no intention of stopping.
"Ready, Renji?" Nakamura called out, a rare smirk tugging at his lips.
Renji wiped sweat from his forehead. "Always."
Nakamura tossed the ball into play. Renji surged forward — and the world slowed down.
Vision flared, the entire field expanding in his mind. Every movement, every possible path crystallized in front of him.
He activated his Specter Drive, his body becoming an unpredictable blur. The combination of speed and sudden directional shifts made it almost impossible to track him.
But this time, he had something new.
It had happened during the afternoon's session — in a flash of instinct, Renji had managed to copy a part of Kobayashi's devastating shot technique. He hadn't been able to use it perfectly at first — but now, through relentless practice, it was his.
Void Strike.
It was a shot that erased the opponent's ability to predict its trajectory — a strike that seemed to vanish mid-flight before snapping back into reality with terrifying accuracy.
Renji broke through Nakamura's defense with Phantom Step, a quick, precise misdirection that left the captain off-balance for a split second — and that was all Renji needed.
He planted his foot and struck — and the ball disappeared.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing — and then the ball reappeared, slamming into the far post with a thunderous crack.
Kobayashi whistled low. "Not bad, kid."
But Nakamura wasn't done. "Again."
The night wore on, and the training grew more brutal. Kobayashi drilled Renji on his shooting — forcing him to use Void Strike from impossible angles, under pressure, while defenders closed in.
Nakamura focused on his vision — blindfolding him, forcing him to read the game purely through instinct and field awareness.
Through their combined training, Renji's evolution accelerated at a terrifying pace. His movements became sharper, his techniques more refined. He wasn't just keeping up anymore — he was starting to outpace them.
As the session finally ended, Renji collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving. But even through his exhaustion, a fierce grin spread across his face.
He was closer. Closer than ever to the top.
And he wouldn't stop until he got there.