Kaito Isagi stood frozen as the screen flickered to life.
Jinpachi Ego's sharp, monotone voice filled the air.
"Welcome to Blue Lock. Your first challenge is simple: a game of tag."
Murmurs erupted among the 20 players in Area Z.
"Whoever is hit by the ball becomes It and must pass it to someone else. The last player holding the ball after five minutes… is eliminated."
Kaito's stomach twisted.
One person was going home today.
A bright ding rang through the room. The screen flashed a single name.
"First It… Kuroka Bachira."
Kaito turned to the wild-haired striker, Rank #280. Kuroka smirked and twirled the ball on his finger.
"Five minutes? That's plenty of time to have some fun."
Without warning, Kuroka launched the ball straight at Riku Hayashi (#285).
BAM!
It slammed into his gut.
"Ugh!" Riku stumbled back.
He was It now.
The countdown had begun.
4:45 left.
Riku panicked, scanning the room. Everyone scattered, running in different directions. Kaito's heart pounded as he sprinted toward the far corner.
4:30 left.
Riku locked onto Toma Iguchi (#283) and blasted the ball toward him. Toma sidestepped, and it flew past him—straight toward Kaito.
"Dammit—!"
Kaito barely twisted his body in time, the ball grazing his side.
4:00 left.
Takumi Endo (#297) snatched the ball next and targeted Naoto Kirisawa (#290). The game turned chaotic—players dodging, diving, and deflecting the ball like their lives depended on it.
3:00 left.
Kaito panted, his back against the wall. He hadn't been It yet, but he was trapped.
Takumi slammed the ball toward him.
Think, Kaito. Think!
Suddenly, something clicked.
His father—Yoichi Isagi—wasn't the fastest or the strongest. But he had a weapon.
Spatial Awareness.
Kaito's eyes darted across the room. He saw patterns. The way players moved. The open spaces. Who was most tired. Who was most vulnerable.
Takumi was It, but his movements were predictable.
Kaito saw an opening.
He dodged left—Takumi expected him to go right.
Takumi hesitated—just for a second.
That second was all Kaito needed.
1:00 left.
Takumi panicked. He fired the ball, but Kaito deflected it off the wall, sending it straight toward Takumi's chest.
Takumi was It!
30 seconds left.
Takumi's eyes widened in horror. "No—NO!"
He scrambled, chasing players, but everyone dodged him, staying just out of reach.
5 seconds.
4…
3…
2…
Takumi kicked it at Daigo Shigematsu (#288)—but missed.
1…
BZZZT!
The buzzer rang.
Takumi Endo fell to his knees.
Ego's voice returned.
"Player #297, Takumi Endo… you are eliminated."
Takumi's eyes were filled with shock and rage. "No… this can't be happening."
The doors behind him slid open. A black-uniformed staff member pointed to the exit.
"Leave."
Takumi's fists trembled, but he had no choice. Slowly, he walked through the doors.
The moment they shut, Kaito finally let out a breath.
His legs shook.
But deep inside…
He had awakened something.
"So this is what it takes to survive in Blue Lock."
Kuroka Bachira walked up beside him, grinning. "Yo, Kaito. That was sick."
Kaito looked at him, confused.
Kuroka spun his finger like a wheel. "Your eyes. The way you see the field."
Kaito blinked.
Kuroka smirked.
"You've got it, don't you? Just like your old man."
Kaito clenched his fists.
He wasn't his father. But if he wanted to prove himself—
He had to become something even greater.
The new King of Strikers