The training field was silent—except for the sound of a ball striking the net.
Boom!
Kaito exhaled, sweat dripping from his forehead. His body ached, but he wasn't stopping.
Direct Shot.
Metavision.
He had mastered both.
Now, he needed to prove it.
Kuroka Bachira stood across from him, arms crossed, his usual smug grin on his face.
"You think you're something special now, huh, Kaito?"
Kaito didn't reply. He just set the ball down.
Ego had told him one thing:
To become the best, devour the one standing in your way.
And right now, that person was Kuroka.
The match began.
Kuroka moved first, trying to dominate like always. His speed, his technique, his ruthless precision—they were all the same.
But Kaito?
He saw everything.
Metavision unlocked the field.
Kuroka tried to dribble past—Kaito intercepted.
Kuroka went for his curved strike—Kaito blocked it.
For the first time, Kuroka looked frustrated.
Kaito countered—Direct Shot. Goal.
1-0.
Kuroka snarled. "You… you little—"
Kaito smirked. "You're an old king, Kuroka. A clown. This is my era now."
Kuroka charged again—this time reckless.
Kaito used his Metavision, dodged effortlessly, and fired a second Direct Shot.
2-0.
The match ended.
Kaito had destroyed the Tyrant.
Kuroka stood there, fists clenched. His entire body trembled—not with fear, but with rage.
He had never been humiliated like this.
Kaito walked past him. "Step aside, Kuroka. You're not the king anymore."
That was it.
That was the moment Kuroka snapped.
His eyes burned. His hunger—unstoppable.
"I'll devour you."
He wasn't just coming for Kaito.
He was coming for Julias. For Daichi. For EVERYONE.
A new monster had been born.