The timer on the wall was counting down.
130.
The air in the Team V locker room was thick with the smell of sweat and panic. Eleven players were backed against the walls, their eyes wide, their breathing shallow. They were rats trapped in a cage with a cat that had just decided it was playtime.
In the center of the room, Renzo Takamine stood alone.
The ball wasn't on the ground. It was dancing.
Tap. Tap. Thud. Tap.
He was juggling. Casually. Using his knees, his instep, his chest. He wasn't even looking at the other players. He was looking at the ball with a bored expression, as if he were alone in a park on a Sunday afternoon, not standing in a concrete bunker with careers on the line.
"What… what the hell is he doing?" whispered a boy with messy brown hair, his voice trembling. "Why isn't he kicking it?"
"Is he crazy?" another hissed, pressing his back harder against the lockers. "If he holds it until the end, he loses! He's going to get expelled!"
Reo watched from the corner, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth hurt. He knew exactly what Renzo was doing. He had seen this arrogance before. It was a taunt. A silent declaration that time — the very thing everyone else was terrified of — was under his control.
Beside Reo, Nagi blinked slowly. "He's weird," Nagi mumbled, though his eyes were sharper than usual. "Why is he waiting? It's a hassle to wait."
Zantetsu adjusted his glasses, his face serious. "It is illogical. By holding the ball, he increases the probability of an error. He should transfer the risk immediately."
"Hey!"
A loud, grating voice cut through the whispers.
Standing near the opposite wall was a tall, burly player with wild hair. His name was Kenji. He was the one ranked 272 — the lowest in the room aside from the poor soul who had panicked earlier.
Kenji stepped forward, pointing a finger at Renzo.
"Are you stupid or something, Pretty Boy?" Kenji barked, a nervous, aggressive laugh bubbling up from his chest. "You're gonna juggle until you die? Fine by me! Go ahead and get locked off! One less rival for the rest of us!"
Renzo caught the ball on his neck, balancing it there as he slowly turned to face Kenji. The ball stayed perfectly still, nestled between his shoulder blades and the back of his head.
"You're loud," Renzo said softly.
Kenji flinched, but quickly puffed out his chest. "Hah! You think you're scary just because you got blue hair? You're just a show-off! You're gonna drop that ball and cry to your mommy when Ego kicks you out!"
The timer ticked down.
90 seconds.
Renzo let the ball roll down his back, flicking it up with his heel and catching it on his toe. He resumed juggling.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The rhythm was hypnotic. And terrifying.
"Why isn't anyone moving?" whispered a boy with a band. "Should we… should we try to take it from him?"
"Are you an idiot?" Reo snapped, not taking his eyes off Renzo. "If you touch the ball, you become the 'Oni.' Let him hold it. Let him dig his own grave."
60 seconds.
The tension in the room was ramping up. Players were fidgeting, their eyes darting between Renzo and the countdown.
"This is torture," Sato groaned. "Just kick it already!"
Kenji was laughing louder now. "Look at him! He's frozen! He doesn't know who to kick because he knows we'll dodge it! He's scared!"
Renzo ignored him. He was listening to the rhythm. He was listening to the fear in the room. It smelled delicious. It smelled just like Tokyo.
Renzo switched feet. Left. Right. Left. Right. The ball never rose above his waist. Total control.
Nagi leaned forward slightly. "Reo. He's not scared."
"I know," Reo hissed. "He's planning something."
15 seconds.
Panic was setting in for the others now. What if he kicked it at the last second? What if he missed? The sheer uncertainty was making them shake.
"IS THIS DUDE CRAZY?" someone screamed.
10 seconds.
Renzo stopped.
He caught the ball under his foot, stomping it into the concrete floor.
He looked up. His teal eyes locked directly onto Kenji.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Renzo's face. It was the smile of a monster who had finally decided to stop playing with its food.
"Hey, Loudmouth," Renzo called out.
Kenji froze, his laughter dying in his throat. "Huh?"
"Dodge if you can," Renzo whispered.
Kenji blinked. Then, the bravado returned, fueled by pure adrenaline. He spread his arms wide, bending his knees. "Hah! Bring it on! I can see you coming from a mile away! You think you can hit me from there?"
5 seconds.
Renzo didn't run up. He didn't take a massive backswing.
He simply flicked the ball into the air.
It rose, spinning gently.
4 seconds.
Kenji watched the ball rise. He was confused. A lob? Is he trying to chip me? Is this fucker insane?
"I got this!" Kenji yelled, preparing to jump to the side.
3 seconds.
The ball reached its apex and began to fall.
Renzo shifted his weight. His left leg whipped back. It wasn't a normal kicking motion. It was a snap, like a whip cracking. His hips rotated with speed, his core tightening like a steel coil.
He struck the ball on the volley, just inches before it hit the ground.
BOOM.
The sound was like a gunshot in the enclosed room.
2 seconds.
For Kenji, the world suddenly turned into slow motion.
He saw the impact. He saw the ball deform against Renzo's boot, flattening momentarily under the sheer force of the kick.
Then, it was gone.
It wasn't a ball anymore. The ball became a laser beam. It tore through the air with a terrifying, high-pitched hiss.
Kenji's brain screamed at his legs to move. Left! Jump left!
But his body betrayed him. The ball came too quickly. He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes widening as the white projectile grew larger in his vision.
He realized, with horror, that he wasn't looking at a ball. He was looking at a bullet.
1 second.
"Shit," Kenji breathed.
CRACK.
The ball smashed directly into Kenji's face.
The impact lifted him off his feet. His head snapped back violently, a spray of blood erupting from his nose. He fell hard.
The ball ricocheted off his face, spinning wildly across the room, bouncing off the ceiling, the floor, and finally coming to a rest at Renzo's feet.
TIME UP!!
The buzzer rang. A long, harsh electronic buzz that signaled the end.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Kenji groaned on the floor, clutching his face. Blood was pouring between his fingers, dripping onto the pristine grey bodysuit. "My… my nose…" he whimpered. "It's broken… you broke my nose…"
The other players stared at the scene in horror. They looked at Kenji, writhing in pain. Then they looked at Renzo.
Renzo hadn't moved. He was standing in the same spot, hands in his pockets, looking down at Kenji with an expression of mild disinterest.
"Game over," Renzo said.
BZZZT.
The screen on the wall flickered. Ego Jinpachi's face appeared, looming large over the room.
"Time's up," Ego announced, his voice devoid of sympathy. "The one who is 'it' is… Kenji Sato. Rank 272."
Kenji scrambled to sit up, panic overriding the pain in his face. "Wait! No! This isn't fair!" He pointed a shaking, bloody hand at Renzo. "He… he waited until the last second! That was a cheap shot! He broke my nose! That shouldn't count!"
Ego stared down from the screen, his eyes cold.
"Fair?" Ego repeated, the word dripping with disdain. "You think the world cares about fair? You stood there and let him dictate the pace. You let him control the time. You let him aim."
"But — !"
"In a penalty shootout in the World Cup final," Ego interrupted, his voice rising, "do you think the striker cares if the keeper thinks it's 'fair' to wait until the last second to shoot? No. They exploit every weakness. They crush every hope."
Ego leaned closer to the camera.
"You lacked the vision to see the danger. You lacked the speed to react. And most importantly, you lacked the ego to take the ball from him when he was mocking you."
"Please!" Kenji begged, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "I gave up my nationals for this! I can't go home!"
"Fuck off," Ego said simply. "Get out of here. Your football life is over."
The floor beneath Kenji suddenly hissed. A trapdoor opened, and before he could scream again, he dropped into the darkness below. The hatch slammed shut. (I added this, cool right?)
He was gone.
The remaining eleven players stood frozen. The reality of Blue Lock had just crashed down on them. This wasn't a camp. It was a guillotine.
"Listen up, you unpolished gems," Ego continued, ignoring the brutal elimination he had just orchestrated. "Don't think you can relax just because you survived one game of tag. This was just the entrance exam."
Ego adjusted his glasses.
"You are Team V. You are the 'top' team in this strata, or so the rankings say. But don't let that get to your heads. In Blue Lock, rankings are fluid. You will eat or be eaten."
"You will live in this room together. You will train together. And soon… you will battle the other teams in your building. Teams W, X, Y, and Z. Only the top two teams will advance. The rest? Disposed. Like trash."
Renzo wasn't listening to the rules.
He was looking at his hands. They were trembling slightly. Not from fear, but from the adrenaline dump.
He felt… light.
For the first time in a year, the heavy weight on his chest was gone. The 'mask' he wore for his parents, the restraint he used to keep his teammates safe, the boredom of playing 'smart' football, it had all evaporated the moment his foot connected with that ball.
Seeing the fear in Kenji's eyes just before impact… seeing the sheer dominance of his own power…
A feeling bubbled up from deep inside his gut. It was dark, it was heavy, and it was absolutely intoxicating.
Renzo threw his head back and started to laugh.
"Ha… haha… HAHAHAHA!"
The sound was jarring in the tense room. Reo flinched. Nagi looked at him with wide eyes. Zantetsu took a step back.
Renzo laughed until his ribs hurt, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. It was the laughter of a prisoner who had just realized the cell door was unlocked.
He stopped abruptly, wiping a tear from his eye. He looked up at the screen. At Ego.
Ego wasn't annoyed. He was staring right back at Renzo, a twisted curiosity in his bug-like eyes.
"You want the best striker in the world, right?" Renzo asked, his voice cutting through the silence.
Ego tilted his head. "Yes. That is the entire purpose of this facility."
Renzo stepped forward, walking over the spot where Kenji had been standing moments ago. He looked up at the giant screen, his teal eyes burning with a blue fire that seemed to scorch the air around him.
"Then just wait," Renzo declared, a feral grin stretching across his face. "I will become the very top. I will devour every single person in this building until there's nothing left but me."
Reo felt a chill run down his spine. It was the same declaration Renzo had made with his playstyle a year ago.
Ego stared at him for a long beat.
Then, slowly, Ego's lips curled into a smile that mirrored Renzo's own.
"Then good luck," Ego rasped. "You unpolished gem."
The image on the screen began to fade.
"You'd better back those words up," Ego added, his voice fading into static. "Or you'll end up in the trash just like the rest of them."
Click.
The screen went black.
The room was plunged back into a dim, artificial twilight.
Renzo stood alone in the center, the afterglow of his declaration still hanging in the air.
Behind him, Retsu stared at the back of Renzo's head, his fists trembling. Nagi let out a long, heavy sigh, the laziness gone from his posture. Masumi fixed his hair nervously.
None of them spoke. None of them moved. They were all processing the same terrifying truth.
They were trapped in a room with a monster. And they had to somehow survive.