Red Team in possession. Ryūma Banjō kicks off from center!
With that shout, Ryūma Banjō immediately passed the ball to Seishirō Nagi on the left side of the center circle, then accelerated toward the opposite flank.
Receiving the ball, Seishirō Nagi sprinted toward the White Team, heading straight for his marker—Pablo Cavasoz. This update ıs available on novel•fire.net
(Alright, how should I get past him?)
(Can’t rush it. Let’s test him first.)
Thinking that, Seishirō Nagi nudged the ball toward Pablo Cavasoz’s left side, making him think he was going for a split dribble or a quick burst past him.
The instant Pablo Cavasoz stretched his leg to block left, Seishirō Nagi stopped the ball with his right foot at lightning speed. Then, with a swift motion, he flicked it to the right.
Pablo Cavasoz reacted immediately, shifting to block that side.
Seishirō Nagi’s eyes followed every movement, his thoughts sharp and precise.
(That’s it! Keep up with my rhythm!)
As he thought this, Seishirō Nagi turned left, stepping with his left foot while hooking his right foot back, striking the ball that had been lifted to the right with his heel.
Watching the sequence, Pablo Cavasoz gave a short laugh.
“Not bad—very creative. But your pattern’s too simple. Too easy to read.”
Just as the ball veered left, Pablo Cavasoz moved to intercept it.
(He reacted that fast?! Incredible!)
(Then… how about this!!)
Seishirō Nagi had planned to flick the ball past Pablo Cavasoz’s left side using his left leg—but Pablo had already read it.
Still, Seishirō Nagi’s creativity didn’t end there. Keeping his motion fluid, he stopped the ball instead of pushing it forward.
In the next instant, he flicked it up again, quickly adjusted his stance, and lashed out with his right foot, striking the descending ball in midair.
He managed to keep control, but he still couldn’t be sure he could break through Pablo Cavasoz.
And he’d already held the ball too long. From the corner of his eye, Seishirō could see the White Team defenders closing in.
With no better option, he passed the ball back toward his left rear—
where Yoichi Isagi was already waiting, ready to link up.
Yoichi received it without hesitation, immediately lofting the ball back toward Seishirō.
He had thought about dribbling forward to create more space…
but one glance at Julian Loki to his left killed that idea instantly.
Loki’s faint smile might’ve looked friendly, but Yoichi knew better than to expect mercy from him on the pitch.
As the ball came flying back toward him, Seishirō grimaced slightly.
(That’s a bit too high, Yoichi. Are you too focused on Loki?)
(Damn it! That tank’s charging in too!)
(Ryūma—you’ve got to win this one!)
In Seishirō’s eyes, two figures closed in fast on the ball Isagi had sent—
Dada Silva and Ryūma Banjō.
Ryūma stayed calm. Dada Silva’s speed couldn’t match his full sprint.
But what worried him was the aerial battle ahead.
Even after all his training, his heading ability still couldn’t rival Jyubei Aryu’s.
(Going head-to-head with Dada in the air is suicide. Even if I get to the ball first, there’s no guarantee I can keep it!)
(If that’s the case… there’s only one move left!)
At his shout, Ryūma suddenly slowed and twisted his body.
The move perfectly disrupted Dada Silva’s timing just as he prepared to leap.
Originally, Dada Silva had planned to charge and jump at the same time as Ryūma, overpowering him midair.
But Ryūma’s sudden deceleration caught him off guard.
Realizing Ryūma’s intent instantly, Dada twisted his body to collide instead.
He had no choice—if he hadn’t turned, his chest would’ve slammed into Ryūma’s arm,
and knowing Ryūma’s raw strength, that could’ve easily knocked the wind—and breakfast—out of him.
The two collided hard, leaving neither able to jump.
The ball continued to fall between them.
But that was exactly what Ryūma wanted.
Because the one going for the ball next was the genius himself.
When the ball dropped to about two meters above the ground, Seishirō Nagi suddenly leapt high, cushioning it cleanly on his thigh.
At that exact moment, Ryūma burst forward again, twisting to break free from Dada Silva.
Their timing was nearly identical—so Dada couldn’t react in time.
Pablo Cavasoz, however, immediately charged in to block Nagi.
Seishirō didn’t even look at him. His eyes were locked solely on Ryūma sprinting toward the opposite side.
Landing, Seishirō stepped hard with his left foot and flicked the falling ball with his right heel—
a perfect rainbow flick arcing leftward, right into Ryūma’s path.
Dada Silva turned to chase, but Ryūma was faster.
Reaching the ball first, Ryūma slammed his back into Dada—no, into the collision itself.
Gritting his teeth, he threw every ounce of strength into the contact.
His goal was simple: keep Dada Silva off him long enough to strike.
(There’s no time to adjust!)
A fierce violet glint flashed in Ryūma’s eyes as he drove his right foot into the ground, swung his left leg back, and whipped his arm behind him for balance.
(I’m not great with my left foot—but you’re there, Rin!!)
The shot came from over ten meters out, yet the sheer power of it sent the ball screaming toward the White Team’s goal in an instant.
“Hmph. Cocky brat—you really dared to shoot that?”
Just before the ball could reach the net, Adam Blake stepped in and, with a calm swing of his left leg, effortlessly blocked Ryūma’s full-power strike.
p@treon com / GhostParser