010 Blue Lock: System Ten Years Early

[Blue Lock Phase One begins]

[Estimated settlement time: end of the first round of Blue Lock selection]

[Your performance during this period will affect the tier of rewards at final settlement and the number of rewards you may choose. Cherish this opportunity and perform well]

The system's voice sounded in his mind. Lying on a bus seat with his eyes closed, Shinichi curled the corner of his mouth:

"As expected! Once you enter the main storyline, the number of reward choices is unlocked!"

"Then I'm sorry to the unlucky guys who ended up in the same building as me—I'll—"

"Crush and destroy all of you."

...

"Seriously, this bodysuit—no matter how I look at it, it's shady." Shinichi looked with disgust at the strange lines on the dark blue bodysuit and reluctantly pulled it on.

"Number X, third-ranked room in Building Five, with an individual rank of 243. That's really ridiculous." Shinichi didn't care at all about this ranking that existed purely as a smokescreen.

For example, in Isagi Yoichi's building—leaving aside the fact that Kunigami obviously wasn't in the bottom tier—even if Barou were ranked strictly by individual ability, he wouldn't be weaker than Zantetsu or Reo, yet he was still assigned to Room X.

This same-building grouping—although there might be differences in overall strength—actually had standout players assigned to every room by Ego Jinpachi. Otherwise, letting all the strong players bunch together would make this selection completely meaningless.

"Yo, looks like everyone's here, you 'raw gems of talent.'" Ego Jinpachi's listless face appeared on the screen in the room.

"The guys in the same room are teammates—and also rivals who push each other to improve."

"I've quantified your abilities based on my own arbitrary judgment and bias, and ranked you accordingly. Ah, those are the numbers on your clothes. The bigger the number, the lower the rank. Simple enough, right?"

"Training and match results will adjust the rankings, and the top five will unconditionally qualify for the U-20 matches afterward."

"By the way, anyone eliminated from Blue Lock will never be able to enter the national team for the rest of their life."

Shinichi curled his lips in disdain. Even though in this world that mysterious Eastern country was still a complete mess at football—one could even say the country had basically given up on football—he had no intention of sucking up to it or saying something stupid like helping the nation revive.

Even in basketball with only five players on the court, having one person drag the team down makes it hard to win a championship—let alone football with eleven players. And reviving a nation with just one person is unrealistic.

If the entire country doesn't take it seriously, one person alone can accomplish absolutely nothing. He wasn't going to voluntarily sink into that quagmire.

Of course, he also had no intention of playing for this country to win honors anyway. There are plenty of countries that can participate in the World Cup; in the end, he could simply choose the best option.

As long as he's strong enough, plenty of countries would be willing to naturalize him as a foreign player. So this threat meant nothing to him—and it wasn't even under Ego Jinpachi's control. Not to mention the football association wouldn't listen to him anyway; he couldn't make that call.

And what if a player eliminated from Blue Lock later kept improving and won countless honors in the top five leagues—could you really stop him from entering the national team? It's just waving the football association's banner to scare these inexperienced kids.

"As I said earlier, football is a sport for 'egoists.' To keep winning here, you need 'selfishness.' Next, we'll conduct a test to measure that selfishness."

"Now then—it's time for 'Tag.'"

A football dropped from above the room as Ego Jinpachi began explaining the rules:

"The time limit is 136 seconds. Whoever touches the ball becomes 'It.' When the countdown ends, whoever is 'It' at that moment packs up and gets out."

"Also, handball is forbidden. Touch it with your hands and it's Game Over. That's all." Ego Jinpachi's avatar disappeared from the big screen, replaced by a stick-figure icon representing the current 'It.'

"So I'm 'It,' huh—the last-ranked guy in the room." An unknown extra forced a bitter smile and walked toward the football. But Shinichi stepped in front of him and casually flicked the ball up, juggling it up and down.

"Huh? You—" The extra stared in disbelief at Shinichi, who had snatched the ball. The screen promptly updated, switching the 'It' status to Shinichi.

"I thought I'd have to put in a bit of effort, but I didn't expect absolutely no one to come for the ball…" Shinichi juggled it lazily, tilting his head as he swept his gaze around the room.

"Looks like I'm really unlucky—ending up with a bunch of idiots as teammates."

Ignoring the angry looks from the others, Shinichi stepped on the ball.

"Am I wrong? Tag is about passing the 'hot potato' to the next person, so you try your best to avoid it—that's what you're thinking, right?"

Seeing no one refute him, Shinichi shook his head again, wearing an expression of 'you're beyond saving.'

"How stupid. Tag does have a game-theory element, but more than that, it relies on when the music stops—a game of 'luck' with a random variable."

"Do you really think a facility designed to select the strongest striker would eliminate people with a game decided by luck?"

"The moment that guy told us the exact end time in advance and set a countdown on the screen, this game had nothing to do with tag anymore."

Shinichi pointed at the screen above. More than a minute had already passed; only 50 seconds remained.

"Whoever gets hit by the ball becomes 'It.' In other words, in this game, only the ball holder has the right to attack. Everyone else has no means of resistance besides dodging."

"In other words, this is a completely asymmetric competitive game—something like Dead by Daylight!" Shinichi laughed loudly as the time dropped to 20 seconds.

"And why let other people's actions decide your own fate?"

"As a striker… naturally, you keep control of the ball until the very last moment, and let 'your own shot' decide the outcome!"

With 10 seconds left, Shinichi finally started moving with the ball, aimlessly chasing anyone who got close to him around the room—yet he showed no intention of shooting.

'Is he just an idiot who talks big?'

More than one person in the room had that thought—but the next second—

Shinichi suddenly flicked the ball into the air and leapt up himself.

2 seconds remaining!

Shinichi twisted his body exaggeratedly in midair, almost horizontal, and turned to unleash a volley! A 180-degree spinning volley struck without suspense the person who had been hiding behind him, in his blind spot.

At the same moment, the countdown ended, and the big screen perfectly displayed the information of the person who became 'It' at the last second.

It wasn't Shinichi Kōken!

"Huh? I—I'm eliminated? Why? Why?! Why did you shoot me?! I was clearly hiding behind you! I was one step away from staying! Weren't there guys ranked lower than me?! Why eliminate me?!"

The extra who got hit dropped to his knees in disbelief, not even caring about the blood gushing from his nose as he screamed.

Shinichi scratched his head. "Isn't it simple?"

As the guy looked over, Shinichi shrugged indifferently. "There are 12 people in this room. One is destined to be eliminated, which means 11 will remain."

"And you deliberately grouped us, conveniently forming a very special number in football. What that represents—I don't need to explain, right?"

"In other words, whether I like it or not, for at least the next period of time, everyone left will be my teammates."

"Then why eliminate me?! If you want teammates, shouldn't stronger ones be better?! We're Building Five—the weakest! If your teammates are bad, you'll suffer too! And my rank isn't low—look, it's only two places below yours—"

"I don't care."

"Huh?"

"I said I don't care. Rankings like that—I'll be first in the end anyway. Teammates being strong or weak doesn't matter. If I need to rely on having good helpers just to avoid getting eliminated while playing against high schoolers picked from football weak countries, then how would I have to compete for world number one?"

Shinichi walked up to the extra. His pitch-black pupils were like bottomless black holes. That piercing gaze made it hard to breathe, forcing the other to turn his face away, unable to meet his eyes.

"I just hate having trash stuffed in here. My positioning in the last 10 seconds wasn't without purpose."

"While chasing, I was also observing you all—your positioning choices, spatial awareness, game-theory ability, and so on. There were three people who, at least in this segment, were denied by me and should have been eliminated."

Shinichi pointed to three people in the crowd. Surprisingly, the eliminated guy wasn't among them. Shinichi didn't keep them in suspense.

"But at the last moment, I changed my mind. Because I realized that while some people did slack off, only you wore that smug, self-satisfied, gloating look—as if you'd already passed."

"At the most critical final moment of the match—when it wasn't over yet, when the whistle hadn't blown, when victory and defeat were still undecided."

"You! Had already completely relaxed. Because you were behind me? Because I wasn't chasing you? Because the distance was far?"

"Trash who can relax like that at the decisive moment of life and death—someone who gives up effort at the final hurdle and shows no respect for their own fate."

"It's just too unpleasant to look at. So I changed my mind. Since you don't even care about your own future—"

"Then let me be the one to destroy your destiny!"