It was night, July 14, 2026.
"We were in the final minutes of the match. The players looked exhausted."
"Well, given the intensity of the game, that was to be expected."
Atlanta, Georgia, USA.
"Neither team are giving an inch, fighting for every ball and every chance to take the lead. Both wanted to be present on the biggest stage in the world…"
"…the World Cup Final."
The stadium, with a capacity of over 75,000 people, was completely packed.
One half was painted in white, the other in deep red. The chants and shouts from both sides never stopped for even a second, each of them carrying the hope of emerging victorious and keeping alive the dream of seeing their national team lift the heaviest trophy of all.
"Yamal had the ball—an extremely dangerous attack starting from the right wing."
"One of the most promising players after the era of Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo, and Neymar once again had possession."
The match remained deadlocked. Neither team had scored a single goal yet, and we were already approaching the 90-minute mark.
"Yamal and Carvajal continued to link up perfectly. Yamal got past the Japanese fullback and cut inside!"
"There was no one left between Yamal and the goalkeeper…"
"…Yamal shot and—GOOOOOOOOOOAL FOR SPAIN."
As the Spanish fans erupted in the stands and the Spanish players ran to celebrate with Yamal, there was one player standing still at midfield.
His jersey was completely soaked in sweat, droplets running down from his forehead to his chin before falling to the ground.
I had always been obsessed with football.
His eyes were locked onto the ball that had just hit the back of the net, then shifted toward the giant screen showing the score.
Spain 1 x 0 Japan
87:46 minutes.
I had always dreamed of making history as a player, of being the reason for the crowd's cries of "Goal"…
…but was this the end?
On the screen, the image shifted from the scoreboard to the Japanese stands. The people were silent, their faces filled with despair. It felt as if there was no hope left.
Are we going to lose?
But one image caught Kanzaki's attention.
It was a child sitting in her father's arms. She had her hair in small braids and two red circles painted on her cheeks. Tears streamed down her small face.
The jersey she was wearing?
Jersey No. 99, with the name Kanzaki Ren on it.
In that moment, it felt as though something inside him reignited. A flame that could have been extinguished with a single breath began burning brighter than ever before.
While his teammates struggled to catch their breath, their bodies heavy with discouragement, one of them ran toward the goal, grabbed the ball from inside the net, and sprinted back to the center circle.
When his teammates finally lifted their heads—once lowered in resignation—they saw only the back of the No. 99 jersey.
It wasn't over yet.
"I only need one chance, just give me one chance to take the shot..."
It was the last thing his closest teammates heard.
"The referee has added four minutes of stoppage time. That's four more minutes before Spain can qualify for the final by beating this year's underdog, Japan," says the match commentator.
"Another Spanish attack, Nico Williams has the ball preparing for yet another push... but he loses it to defender Takehiro Tomiyasu, who immediately passes it to midfielder Wataru Endo. Could this be the last counterattack of the game?"
Wataru took the ball and sprinted out of the defensive zone toward midfield, time seemingly slipping away with every stride.
The clock showed 90:41.
Spain immediately dropped back, forming two compact lines, trying to kill the match right there.
"Endo lifts his head… looking for options…" — the commentator's voice rose slightly.
Two Spanish players stepped up to press him.
Without hesitation, Wataru twisted his body and played a short pass to the right.
"The ball reaches Ito!"
Ito controlled it under pressure but shielded the ball well, pushing forward a few meters. The stadium held its breath. This wasn't just an attack, it was their last hope.
In the middle of the pitch, the number 99 jersey began to move.
He didn't call for the ball with exaggerated gestures.
He ran.
He ran into a space that didn't exist yet, but soon would.
"Ito tries the one-two!"
The ball came back to Endo, now under heavy pressure. One wrong touch there would mean the end.
For a split second, Endo hesitated.
Then he saw it.
A gap between the Spanish center-backs... A shadow slipping behind the defensive line.
"Now…" Endo thought.
He threaded the pass.
"ENDO SENDS IT FORWARD!"
The ball cut through the air.
The number 99 burst forward.
"Kanzaki is running! He beats them with pace!"
Carvajal tried to keep up. Laporte stepped out in desperation.
The Spanish goalkeeper took two steps off his line.
The stadium erupted in noise.
"HE'S GOING TO GET THERE!"
Kanzaki controlled it on the move, the ball bouncing once in front of him.
For a moment, the world went silent; he could no longer see anything except the goal in front of him.
The sound of the screams faded away. Now, the only thing stopping him from scoring was the goalkeeper.
A teammate, free at his side, called for the pass. The goal would be wide open for him, but...
Kanzaki was a complete egoist.
He remembered the child in the stands, the path he had taken to get here, and now...
"I only need one chance…"
The defender closed in from behind.
The goalkeeper narrowed the angle.
There was no time to think.
Only to shoot.
"KANZAKI SETS HIMSELF—"
He struck it with everything he had, in this life...
"HE SHOOOOTS—"
The ball stayed low, slicing between the defender's legs, gliding across the grass as if the pitch itself were pushing it forward.
The goalkeeper stretched.
Too late.
"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL FOR JAPAAAAAAN!"
The stadium exploded.
SPAIN 1 x 1 JAPAN
90+2:13
...He would be the protagonist.
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02\04\2022 Japan
"Kanzaki Ran, your team qualified for the nationals with two goals from you. As one of the biggest rising stars in Japanese football, do you have anything to say?"
"That we're ready for whoever comes next. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to leave early today."
Without waiting for another question, Kanzaki turned and headed straight for the locker room. A quick shower later, he changed into his school uniform and began his way home.
The stadium corridors were eerily quiet now, the echoes of the crowd long gone.
Just as he was about to exit—
"Kanzaki Ran?"
A feminine voice called out from behind.
He stopped and turned.
Standing there was a woman with short red hair brushing her shoulders. She wore a formal beige suit, paired with a skirt that barely concealed her well-shaped thighs. Her presence was… striking. Impossible to ignore.
"I'd love to do an interview with a beautiful woman like you," Kanzaki said with a casual grin, "but I'm really busy right now. Maybe another time."
He took a step forward, ready to leave.
"I'm not here for an interview," she said, stopping him again as she approached.
"I'm here to make you an offer."
Kanzaki paused. One eyebrow rose slightly as curiosity flickered in his green eyes.
"An offer? Don't tell me you're asking me out."
"I'm six years older than you, kid," she replied with a soft laugh.
"Age is just a number, miss… though I don't think I caught your name."
"You can call me Anri Teieri, Kanzeki-kun."
His expression stiffened for just a moment. He frowned slightly.
That name…
He was sure he had heard it before.
"Have we met?"
"Don't tell me you flirt like that with girls your own age too. That's way too cliché."
"I'm being serious, Miss Anri."
"Then no," she said, laughing lightly. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to him.
"Sorry, but I'll have to refuse," Kanzaki said immediately. "I'm not looking to date right now."
Anri felt her cheeks heat up at his shameless reply.
"Just take it and read."
He stopped teasing her and opened the letter. His eyes scanned its contents.
For a brief moment, he froze.
Then, as if nothing had happened, his expression returned to normal.
"…I'm listening."
Later, the two of them sat across from each other at a restaurant table. Plates arrived as their conversation shifted to the contents of the letter.
"So it's real?" Kanzaki asked.
Anri nodded.
"The Japanese government has decided to heavily invest in football. They believe the national team is missing something fundamental."
"When does it start?"
"In three weeks. Everyone mentioned in the letter is to gather at the specified location."
Kanzaki began eating calmly.
"And will you be there, miss?" he asked with a mischievous smile.
She rolled her eyes.
"Are you really starting that again?"
"I just asked a question," he shrugged innocently.
"…Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "I'll be part of the staff observing you all."
He looked straight into her eyes.
"Then I'll go."
For some reason, that gaze made her heart skip. Her cheeks warmed, though she pretended not to notice.
"Anyway, that's all I needed to say. When the time comes, report to the academy."
She stood up, but Kanzaki stopped her.
"I'll need your contact. I still have a few questions."
She sighed.
"You know that's not happening."
"Worth a shot," he replied with a grin.
As Anri left the restaurant, Kanzaki lowered his gaze back to the letter in his hands.
"Blue Lock…" he murmured.
"So I transmigrated into an anime?"
The moment those words crossed his mind, memories from his past life came flooding back.
And then—
[Hello, Kanzeki. Welcome to the 'Strongest Player' System.]