"Time limit: 136 seconds! Whoever touches the ball becomes 'It.' When the countdown ends, whoever's still 'It' packs their bags and gets out!"
Before Jinpachi Ego even finished speaking, a soccer ball dropped from the ceiling!
"And no handballs, by the way."
As Ego's words ended, the big screen lit up with a cartoon character. The first 'It' was Putian Daiwa, with 2 minutes and 17 seconds on the clock.
"What? The lowest-ranked guy has to be It? Damn it, no way I'm getting eliminated! My dream is to join the national team!"
Ryūma Banjō couldn't even bother showing interest in this background character who wouldn't matter later.
"Boring. Let's back off, Hiori."
"Yeah. Stay clear of him. There's no way he can tag us," Yo Hiori replied calmly.
"Damn it! They're already so far away? With my speed, I can't possibly catch them... No, I won't give up!"
Putian Daiwa started frantically chasing others and launching shots.
But as expected from the lowest-ranked in the room, with only 20 seconds left, he still hadn't hit anyone.
"Huh? Why isn't that guy moving? Frozen in place?"
He suddenly sprinted toward the figure and shouted,
"Still not moving? Perfect! At this distance, I can definitely hit him. I can't be eliminated!"
(Huh? This idiot actually aimed at Rin? Bro, maybe buy a lottery ticket?)
(Of the ten of us, if you'd just avoided Rin Itoshi, me, and Hiori, you could've survived!)
(But no, you had to pick the strongest! Alright, I'll give you that—you're a real man. You may be nameless later, but I'll always remember you as a warrior!)
Ryūma Banjō fought back laughter, mocking him inwardly.
Just as the ball was about to reach Rin, he turned without even looking and swung his leg.
"Had enough fun, insect?"
The words had barely left his mouth before Rin volleyed it straight back, the ball flying directly at Daiwa's face.
(It's over! At this speed I can't dodge. How did he even kick it back? Does he have eyes in the back of his head?)
(No—he didn't even look at the ball, he just turned and kicked. That's impossible! Damn it, ten seconds left. I can't hit anyone—I'm finished!)
As Daiwa's face twisted in despair, another voice cut in.
"Hey! Rin, isn't playing with weaklings boring? Let me make this game fun!"
That's right—Ryūma Banjō stole the ball that was about to hit Daiwa! While Daiwa and the others froze in shock, Ryūma sprang into action.
"Catch, Hiori!"
He passed to Yo Hiori and then charged straight at Rin. He trusted that Hiori, also a genius, would understand and put the ball exactly where he needed it!
"Hmph. Pointless trickery," Rin said coldly.
"Pointless? You'll think it's fun in a second. Accelerate!"
In an instant, Ryūma, who had been 5 meters away, was suddenly behind Rin.
The speed was enough to crack Rin's frozen expression with a flicker of surprise!
"There, Ryūma!"
Yo Hiori fixed his gaze on the space behind Rin, convinced that's where Ryūma wanted the ball.
(That's right, Hiori! Pass! You really understood where I wanted it!)
Ryūma's heart pounded with excitement as he saw the ball heading his way.
[Thud]
Hiori passed the ball 5 meters behind Rin.
"Huh? That's a mistake! It just sailed right over Ryūma's head. Even if he catches up after it lands, there's no time left!" Daiwa muttered in confusion.
Only five seconds remained.
The others glanced at each other, thinking,
(That guy Hiori just got screwed. He's going to be eliminated!)
Ryūma broke into a wild grin.
"How could mortals understand the ways of a genius!"
With that, he surged forward. His left leg powered him upward as his arms swung back. His body lifted into the air.
His right leg whipped upward, striking the falling ball in mid-air. With a spectacular bicycle kick, he launched it straight at Rin!
"Take it, Rin—show me your genius!"
Three seconds left!
"How much longer must I endure this childish trickery? Trash!"
Rin spun sharply, meeting the ball head-on with a ferocious kick.
[BOOM!]
The ball carved a sharp arc through the air and, at the very last second, smashed into Yuto Nakayama—who had been standing on the sidelines, already certain of his survival.
Stunned for a moment, Yuto gritted his teeth, staggered to his feet, and shouted angrily,
"Huh?! Why did the ball suddenly fly at me? Are you kidding me?!"
Before he could finish, Ego's voice rang out from the screen.
"Prospective stars, here results are absolute! The loser leaves. Yuto Nakayama is disqualified!"
"What the hell? Because of this game? Because of this childish play? You're destroying my future!"
"My future is joining the national team and helping them win the World Cup! How dare you destroy my dream! What, is Daiwa more talented than me?"
"No! I'm ranked fourth in this room—there are seven below me!"
"Are they more talented than me? What's the point of this stupid tag game? What does it have to do with soccer?!"
Yuto's face twisted with rage and frustration.
Ego replied calmly,
"In Blue Lock, nothing is unrelated to soccer."
"Look closely, elite commoner. This room is the same size as a penalty area! 75% of goals are scored inside the box."
"Anyone who can't handle the ball in the box has no talent to be a striker."
"So what! I'm telling you, this tag game isn't soccer!" Yuto shouted, his face even more contorted.
"The ones fleeing need awareness, strategy, and positioning."
"The one chasing needs precision dribbling and the ability to shoot on the move. That's pure soccer training, you idiot!" Ego sneered.
"But... but how can you judge me after just two minutes? A soccer match lasts 90 minutes!"
"During a match, each player averages only 136 seconds of possession. You wasted the equal chance given to everyone!"
"And when the ball hit you, there was still one second left. If you'd aimed at the nearest person, you could've stayed in. But you let it slip."
"In other words, at your final attack—when the shot struck you—you gave up. You accepted defeat. That's why you didn't realize you only needed to stretch your leg slightly to grab victory."
"In this tag game, the 'It' risks becoming the loser by holding the ball, but they also hold the initiative—hit someone else, and you're the winner!"
"A striker is someone who takes full responsibility for scoring, fighting until the final second!"
"Ryūma Banjō stole the ball that Daiwa couldn't dodge, aiming for a stronger opponent."
"He then passed to Yo Hiori and made a decisive off-ball run straight at Rin Itoshi!"
"And Yo Hiori fully understood, refusing to waste the chance on someone weaker. Together, they challenged someone stronger."
"When Ryūma launched the ball at Rin, he had every chance in those last three seconds to dodge and let Ryūma be eliminated."
"But he didn't! Rin chose to face Ryūma's challenge head-on and handled it perfectly."
"That is the will to win, free from the constraints of consensus, fueled by self-expression."
"That is the egotism I demand from my strikers! You ran from the fight—so you lost, Yuto Nakayama. You're out!" Ego declared coldly.