Blue lock: Reborn Egoist

The past four years had been nothing short of transformative for Eito. From the moment he returned to Japan, his life revolved around a singular purpose: to push his limits and refine his skills, ensuring he was prepared for the challenges ahead. His father, Jinpachi Ego, left no stone unturned in shaping him—not just into a skilled player, but into a force that could thrive under pressure and adversity.

Eito's days were consumed by training, each session designed to break him down and rebuild him stronger. Ego's methods were demanding, unconventional, and relentless, but their results were undeniable. Every drill had a purpose, every exercise a goal: to forge a player who could adapt, survive, and evolve.

The Training Regimen

Each day followed a strict routine, crafted to push Eito beyond what he thought was possible.

Mornings:

Eito rose before dawn, when the air was still heavy with mist, and ran a grueling 15-kilometer course around the outskirts of the training grounds. There was no room for hesitation, no moment to rest—only the drive to build endurance, both physical and mental. The goal was to condition himself not just for the length of a match but for the unrelenting demands of high-level competition.

Following the run, strength training took over. Each day, he focused on different muscle groups—core, legs, upper body—pushing himself with weights that tested his limits. Some days, Ego added ankle weights or a weighted vest to his drills, simulating the resistance of match conditions. Speed and power were essential, and Eito embraced the burning strain in his muscles as proof of his growth.

Afternoons:

Technical refinement dominated the afternoons. Ball control, footwork, dribbling—every movement was honed with precision. He weaved through cones, maneuvered past defenders, and navigated obstacles designed to push his limits. Passing drills demanded pinpoint accuracy, while shooting sessions forced him to master the balance between power and finesse. Every strike, every touch had to be purposeful. Technique wasn't just about ability; it was about instinct.

Evenings:

Nights were dedicated to sharpening his mind. Tactical training became an obsession, as he dissected game footage from the world's best. He studied Chris prince movement, Noel Noa's finishing, and Lavinho's creativity—breaking down their decisions frame by frame. Ego forced him to analyze every detail, to anticipate plays before they happened, to see the game in ways others couldn't. Football wasn't just played on the pitch; it was won in the mind.

By the time he collapsed into bed, exhaustion threatened to consume him. But beyond the soreness, beyond the fatigue, was an unwavering resolve.

Eito had transformed over the years. His skills had been refined, his instincts sharpened, his body conditioned to perform at the highest level. And yet, despite his progress, he felt a quiet unrest. His body was at its peak, his mind finely tuned, but something remained just out of reach—an invisible wall he couldn't quite break through.

Then came the letter.

No elaborate message, no sentimental words. Just a single line written in Ego's unmistakable handwriting:

"It's time."

Eito knew exactly what it meant. The moment he had spent years preparing for had arrived. The real test awaited him.

The days leading up to his next step blurred together. His thoughts were consumed by what lay ahead—the competition, the players he would face, the challenge of proving himself. As always, his father remained cryptic in his guidance, offering only what was necessary to keep him focused.

Then, the call came.

Eito found himself standing before the facility, its imposing structure looming before him. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, the hum of anticipation thick around him. As he stepped inside, the weight of the moment settled over him.

The locker room was quiet, but the unshakable energy of competition hung in the air. This was the beginning of something greater. The preparation was over. Now, it was time to act.

The next month would define his future. And Eito was ready.