The interior of the bus was a suffocating mix of nerves and tension. Ryoma Saito sat silently near the window, his thoughts a chaotic storm. The others, too, seemed locked in their own mental battles. The conversations were whispers, and every word felt heavy with implication.
"Hey, isn't that him? The guy who blew the U-17 World Cup?" a player in the back whispered to his friend.
"Yeah… Ryoma Saito. Heard he was supposed to be the next big thing. What's he doing here?"
Ryoma heard it all. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. He had lived with this shame for years, but he wasn't here to justify his past—he was here to rewrite his future.
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The bus screeched to a halt in front of a colossal facility. A futuristic structure loomed over them, its walls reflecting the sharp blue of the evening sky. Above the entrance, bold letters read: BLUE LOCK.
The players were herded into a massive hall where a towering screen lit up. Standing before it was a man with unkempt hair, circular glasses, and a crooked grin. His presence was magnetic and unnerving.
"Welcome to Blue Lock," the man began, his voice dripping with a mix of disdain and excitement. "I am Ego Jinpachi, the architect of Japan's football revolution. You are not here to play nice. You are here to destroy each other."
Gasps rippled through the crowd, but Ego continued unfazed.
"Each of you was chosen because you have potential. But potential is meaningless without ego. The ego to take the shot, to win the match, to be the one standing at the top. Only one of you will emerge as Japan's ultimate striker. The rest? You'll vanish from the world of football, irrelevant and forgotten."
Ryoma felt his heart pound. This was no ordinary training program—it was a battlefield.
Ego snapped his fingers, and the screen shifted to show a massive leaderboard. It displayed the names of every player present.
"Your first task is simple," Ego said, his grin widening. "Score goals. As many as you can. The field awaits. Fail, and you're eliminated. Begin."
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The players spilled onto the field—a sprawling, indoor arena designed to simulate high-stakes matches. The moment the whistle blew, chaos erupted.
Dozens of players scrambled for the ball. Shoves, tackles, and desperate dribbles filled the space as everyone fought to prove themselves.
Ryoma hung back for a moment, watching the frenzy unfold. His instincts kicked in as he analyzed the field. He noticed a pattern—players were swarming the ball without thinking ahead.
"I can't just join the chaos," Ryoma muttered. "I need to be smarter."
He darted into open space, waiting for his chance. When the ball ricocheted off another player, he intercepted it with precision.
As he sprinted toward the goal, a tall defender lunged at him. Ryoma feinted left, then cut sharply to the right, leaving the defender off-balance. With a clear shot, he unleashed a powerful strike.
The ball soared past the goalkeeper and into the net.
"Goal!" Ego's voice rang out over the intercom. "That's what I want to see. Show me your hunger!"
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The match continued, and Ryoma found himself at odds with another player—a sharp-eyed, confident striker named Shun Nakamura.
Shun intercepted Ryoma's next play with ease, smirking as he stole the ball. "Nice try, Saito. But you're not the only one with something to prove."
The two clashed repeatedly, each trying to outmaneuver the other. Shun's quick reflexes and sharp instincts matched Ryoma's speed and precision, creating a fierce rivalry on the field.
As the clock ticked down, Ryoma knew he had to make a statement. He spotted an opening and called for a pass. The ball came flying toward him, but Shun was already closing in.
"You're not scoring this time," Shun said, lunging for the ball.
Ryoma smirked. "Watch me."
With a deft touch, Ryoma flicked the ball over Shun's head, sprinted around him, and volleyed it into the net.
"Goal!" Ego announced again. "Ryoma Saito—a striker reborn, or just another flame about to fizzle out? Prove it to me!"
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As the whistle blew, signaling the end of the task, Ryoma stood panting, sweat dripping down his face. The leaderboard updated, and his name appeared in the top ten. But Shun Nakamura's name was just above his, with one more goal.
Shun walked past him, grinning. "Not bad, Saito. But you'll have to do better than that if you want to beat me."
Ryoma's jaw tightened, but a small smile crept onto his face. "I will."
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Author's Note:
The rivalry begins! What do you think of Shun Nakamura? Can Ryoma rise to the challenge, or will he crumble under the pressure? Don't forget to add this story to your library and comment your thoughts below!
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