Blue Lock: Isagi the egoist

Team Z vs. Team W

The moment the whistle blew, Team Z erupted onto the field with an intensity that stunned their opponents.

Isagi, standing at the heart of the storm, moved like a force of nature. Within minutes, he had already netted five goals, each one a showcase of his sheer talent and instinct. He cut through Team W's defenses with ease, dribbling past defenders as if they were traffic cones, his shots hitting the net with the force of a cannon.

Barou, the so-called 'King,' could do nothing but watch in disbelief. His pride stung, his frustration visible in the clenched fists and gritted teeth.

By halftime, the scoreboard read 15-0.

The second half played out in a more 'merciful' fashion. Instead of scoring every goal himself, Isagi turned into the ultimate playmaker, threading pinpoint passes to his teammates, forcing them to rise to the challenge.

Kunigami's volleys, Chigiri's breakneck sprints, Bachira's dazzling dribbles—they all flourished under Isagi's guidance.

The final score? 25-0.

A total obliteration.

Team Z vs. Team V 

The next battle was against Team V, a team boasting the formidable trio of Reo Mikage, Zantetsu Tsurugi, and Seishiro Nagi.

Their chemistry was remarkable, their talent undeniable. But against Isagi, talent alone wasn't enough.

From the moment the game started, Isagi sought not just to win, but to evolve. He experimented with new plays, analyzing his own performance in real time. He tested different dribbling techniques, different shooting angles, different mindsets.

Reo and Zantetsu did their best to adapt, but Isagi was always a step ahead.

As for Nagi? The genius rookie who could control any ball effortlessly?

Isagi overwhelmed him.

Every attempt Nagi made was countered, shut down, and crushed by Isagi's superior vision and adaptability. Nagi had never been challenged like this before—and it terrified him.

When the final whistle blew, the score was 13-0.

All 13 goals belonged to Isagi.

As his teammates celebrated, Isagi stood in the center of the field, deep in thought.

Something changed.

A realization had struck him mid-game, an understanding of something deeper, something more profound.

But he kept it to himself.

This was his secret weapon, and he would unveil it when the time was right.

As the players gathered post-match, Jinpachi Ego appeared on the screen, his smirk widening as he addressed them.

"Congratulations, maggots. You've survived the first selection," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

"But let's make something clear—your rankings were fake. A joke. A mere tool to ignite your egos and force you to evolve."

Gasps rippled through the room. Some players looked outraged, others confused. But Isagi?

He just grinned.

Ego continued, "The real rankings will be revealed after the Second Selection. That's where we separate the weak from the strong. The pretenders from the true strikers."

The screen changed, displaying the entrance to the next stage.

The Second Selection begins now.

As Isagi walked towards the entrance, he noticed a familiar face.

Rin Itoshi.

The younger brother of Sae Itoshi, a boy whose talent was feared by all.

Rin's sharp gaze locked onto Isagi, his expression unreadable at first—until Isagi smiled.

A simple, confident grin.

It infuriated Rin.

"Tch," Rin scoffed, his irritation clear. Without another word, he stepped into the Second Selection.

Isagi followed, his grin never fading.

The moment Isagi entered the new chamber, a soccer ball launched toward him at lightning speed.

Without hesitation, Isagi controlled it with absolute precision and fired it into the goal.

A robotic voice echoed through the room.

"Goals Scored: 1/100. Time Remaining: 90 minutes."

Isagi's eyes gleamed with excitement.

Let's begin.

The room was silent. The only sounds were the mechanical whirring of the goal-scoring system and the rhythmic bounce of a soccer ball against the sterile floor.

Isagi Yoichi stood alone, gripping the ball in his hands, his breath steady.

I need more.

Scoring from any angle. Reading the entire field at once. Predicting movements before they even happen.

Isagi wanted it all.

In Spain, he had played against some of the best defenders and midfielders in the world. They had something special—eyes that dictated the game.

He needed to recreate that.

He recalled the Spanish center-backs, their ability to track multiple attackers at once.

How did they do it?

He closed his eyes, imagining himself as a defender. He visualized the entire field, forcing himself to anticipate where a striker might attack, where the ball would be in three, five, ten seconds.

Then he opened his eyes.

His gaze sharpened.

He let a ball fly toward him, then dodged at the last possible millisecond, his body reacting to his enhanced field awareness.

Again.

And again.

Until his peripheral vision expanded, able to read every inch of the pitch.

The Spanish midfielders were the heart of their teams, dictating play with pinpoint passes and perfect awareness.

Isagi had played against them.

How did they see the game?

He focused on the entire room, tracking multiple balls in motion at once. He forced himself to predict their trajectories, their landings—where they'd be before they even got there.

When the ball shot toward him, he didn't react to it.

He reacted to where it was going.

His vision widened.

He could see everything now.

A striker's job was simple—score. But a world-class striker did more than just shoot.

They saw opportunities before anyone else.

They saw goals before they even happened.

Isagi's Predator Eye sharpened further.

He visualized a 55-meter shot—an impossible distance for most strikers. He locked onto the goal with an unshakable focus.

One shot.

The ball whistled through the air.

GOAL.

Another shot. This time an acrobatic volley, twisting his body mid-air, balancing instinct with precision.

GOAL.

One after another, the net rippled with each perfect strike.

His eyes had changed.

They were no longer just the eyes of a striker.

They were the eyes of a complete player.

The robotic voice rang through the chamber.

"Challenge Complete. Goals: 100/100. Time Remaining: 50 minutes."

Isagi exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow. He had done it.

He was no longer just a scorer.

He was a visionary.

As he marched into the next room, the next challenge appeared on the screen.

"Form a team of three. Face off against another team. The winners take one member from the losers. Teams of five advance to the next stage."

Isagi's grin returned.