"I came here to find pleasure, to grow stronger—not to play house on a pitch with a bunch of losers who don't even know how to kick a ball," Ryoshu said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
"Everyone has a dream. You, me... everyone."
"As for why I didn't enter the national team qualifiers through the standard route? It's because I know the gap between myself and the real monsters out there."
"I'm weak," Ryoshu said, flashing a sudden, jagged grin. He didn't seem to care about the weight of his words. "I'm so weak that, in the hands of certain players, I'd be nothing more than a decent toy. Isagi, there is always someone better, a sky above the sky. If you can't even perceive the gap between you and the top, you don't even have the right to step onto that pitch."
"To see the shadows of those monsters, you have to get stronger."
He paused, looking Isagi in the eye. "Let me give you one piece of advice: talent is nothing more than the entry fee to meet those monsters..."
Isagi's pupils contracted. He felt the blood in his veins seemingly reverse its flow. He began to murmur to himself, "Talent is only... the ticket?"
Then... am I even a talent?
Ever since he'd arrived at Blue Lock, he had suffered blow after blow to his confidence. He had witnessed the overwhelming strength of everyone around him. And yet, a monster as powerful as Ryoshu was claiming to be "weak."
What did that make him? A mere slime among beasts?
By the time Isagi snapped out of his thoughts, Ryoshu was already gone, heading back to the training drills. Isagi watched his retreating back and whispered a single, quiet "Thank you."
The training days bled into one another until it was finally time for Team Z's second match.
Inside the locker room, the group was agonizing over the final tactical details.
"Are you even listening?" Kuon Wataru asked, looking at Bachira with a sigh of resignation. "I... forget it. Maybe you should just go back to sleep. As long as you know where to stand when the whistle blows tomorrow."
Bachira tilted his head. "I know that much."
"I just wanted to ask—are we really going with this rotation? I feel like we should just focus the ball on the players who can actually score, rather than wasting time switching positions."
Isagi spoke up. "The rotation is meant to showcase everyone's 'weapon.' It increases our coordination and gives everyone a chance to develop their scoring formula. The 'position swapping' is just the process of making us all versatile. I think it's a good plan."
Bachira turned to Ryoshu. "Aki, what do you think?"
"I don't care," Ryoshu shrugged. The strategy was essentially a volleyball-style rotation, ensuring everyone got their turn as the striker. It satisfied everyone's ego while theoretically maximizing their weapons.
However, it had a fatal flaw. Ryoshu, a player capable of overwhelming dominance, was being rotated into the backline for defense. In a professional match, a coach would be fired for such a decision.
Hearing Ryoshu's nonchalant response, Kuon's body visibly relaxed. He knew all too well how much of a wildcard Ryoshu could be. If the "Demon King" didn't buy into the strategy, the whole team would dissolve back into chaos.
The rest of the team looked at Ryoshu in surprise. It was hard to believe he was actually cooperating for the sake of the team.
Ryoshu looked back at them. "Don't worry. I'm interested to see how this plays out. As long as we don't have a repeat of the first match where everyone was stealing the ball like hungry dogs, I'll play my part."
"But," his red eyes flashed with a faint, murderous intent, "don't go making any stupid mistakes."
Igarashi swallowed hard. He could vividly imagine Ryoshu ending him if he tried to sabotage a play again.
"Then it's settled," Kuon said. "The rotation stands. We swap positions after every goal—whether we score it or they do."
The day of the match arrived.
Team Y vs. Team Z.
The two teams met in the center of the pitch. Igarashi cracked his knuckles, a cocky grin on his face. "I thought we were playing Team V. Since it's just the guys who got shut out 8-0, this should be a guaranteed win, right?"
"Don't be so sure," Isagi said, his eyes scanning the opposition. "The first match was just the 'Zero to One' phase. Now, every team—win or lose—has undergone a metamorphosis. Their strength and coordination won't be a mess like the first time."
Ryoshu chuckled. "Looks like you spent all last night watching the tapes, Isagi."
Isagi nodded, rubbing his chin. "Team Y got crushed by Team V, and they started out as a mess of individuals stealing the ball, just like us. But toward the end, they started to unite. If they'd had more time, they would have scored at least once."
"Team Y is standing on the edge of a cliff. If they lose this, they're basically out. They're like a wounded beast right now—this is when they're most dangerous."
Ryoshu's gaze drifted past the loudmouths to a boy standing quietly in the crowd, his long bangs obscuring his eyes: Niko Ikki. Knowing the plot, Ryoshu knew exactly how to dismantle this team, but he had no intention of spoiling the fun.
He already knew how he wanted to "enjoy" this match.
"Remember what I said, Isagi? This match, you're my support."
Isagi nodded. He wasn't one to break a promise.
Bachira caught the tail end of their whispering and leaned in. "What are you guys gossiping about? Count me in!"
Ryoshu gave him a flat look.
Kuon stepped forward, huddling the team one last time. "We need to watch their Number 9, Okawa Hibiki. He's an incredible finisher and was the top scorer in the Kumamoto Prefecture tournament. We have to keep the ball away from him at all costs."
Igarashi looked impressed. "Whoa, you actually did your homework?"
Kuon smiled. "You have to know your enemy before you step onto the pitch. Otherwise, what are we even doing here?"
Igarashi started clapping. "I knew we could count on you!"
The rest of the team felt a bit embarrassed by the two of them. Could you keep it down? The other team is right there...
But the other team wasn't listening. They were staring at Team Z with a cold, desperate intensity.