Although Ryūma felt confused, he still chose to trust Yo Hiori.
The moment Ryusei Shido’s attention shifted toward Yo Hiori, Ryūma twisted his body, breaking free from Shido’s pressure.
Then he suddenly accelerated, sprinting toward the center of Team B’s back line.
Rin Itoshi continued along his original route, completely unshaken by Yo Hiori’s call.
Kudo Tōya kept his eyes locked on Rin, thinking suspiciously:
(Huh? He’s not going there? So that position is a decoy?)
(Meaning the real target isn’t that spot at all—it's the place Rin is running toward!)
(But Yo Hiori’s passing motion clearly aimed toward the right… toward Ryūma’s side!)
Before Kudo Tōya could think any further, Yo Hiori planted his foot and struck the ball.
Shōei Barō lunged at the same time, cutting toward the passing lane.
Yo Hiori’s left foot struck the center of the ball with pinpoint accuracy.
In the next instant, not only did Barō’s expression twist into shock, but all four members of Team B's defense froze in disbelief.
Even Ryūma, mid-sprint, halted completely. Staring at Yo Hiori, he let out a breath of awe.
“Yo Hiori… so this is what you meant by blowing me away. Damn, that was sick!”
Yo Hiori had indeed kicked the ball to the right with his left foot, but the ball bent in a strange curved arc—looping around Barō before flying… toward Yo Hiori’s own right foot.
Exactly—this was the technique Yo Hiori had crafted: the ultra-short-range dribble-pass.
By making the defender believe he was passing to a teammate, Yo Hiori tricked Barō into committing to the wrong interception.
And this move could even evade predictive skills like God’s Eye.
After all, Yo Hiori’s starting motion was identical to a normal pass.
Without giving anyone time to react, Yo Hiori swung his right foot back—
—then fired immediately, striking the returning ball with perfect timing.
From pass to shot, his movements flowed with zero hesitation.
And the completely unexpected shot—one no one in Blue Lock even had time to process—
slammed straight into Team B’s goal.
“Hiori! You brat, you tricked even me, didn’t you?!”
Before Yo Hiori could explain, Ryūma rushed over and locked an arm around his neck.
Then, in revenge, he vigorously scrubbed Yo Hiori’s hair.
“Alright, alright! I’m sorry, Ryūma! I wasn’t trying to fool you—I was fooling them!”
“Just this once! Still… that move was damn cool.”
“Look at Barō’s face! Hahahahaha!”
Not far away, Shōei Barō clearly heard Ryūma and Yo Hiori’s exchange.
A vein bulged on his forehead as he glared murderously at Ryūma.
Ryūma immediately stiffened, then leaned in and whispered with forced calm:
“Uh… let’s get out of here, Hiori.”
Across the field, Kudo Tōya’s expression also darkened.
He never expected that the Yo Hiori who used to only pass would develop this far.
After all, Yo Hiori’s technique could deceive even God’s Eye in most situations.
Ryusei Shido spoke up with his usual playful smile.
“Impressive, that little blue-haired guy.”
“Hmph. I’ve memorized that move,” Tōya replied sharply.
“Ryusei, take the kickoff. Send the ball to the goalmouth, and then…”
Team B possession. Ryusei Shido kicks off!
After the whistle, Shido dribbled straight down the center toward Team A’s half.
“No one can stop me.”
He looked genuinely thrilled—who knows what Kudo Tōya had told him.
“Oh? Your turn this time, Rin?”
Taunting as he ran, Shido shifted left, trying to force his way past Rin Itoshi’s defense.
But the next second, Nijiro Nanase appeared directly in Shido’s path.
“I’ve got you! Let’s steal it!”
Rin’s expression didn’t change at all, as though he had predicted this exact development.
Even trapped from front and back, Ryusei Shido showed no panic. Instead, he shouted with rising excitement:
“Tōya! Use that move—now! I can’t hold it in anymore!”
Kudo Tōya, who was marking Ryūma on the right wing, heard him.
Ryūma glanced over curiously.
“Hey, Tōya, what move is he talking about?”
“Hmph. You think I’d tell you?”
“Tch! Stingy! I even told you what my eyes can do!”
“You’re still hiding stuff? I open up to you, and you play mind games? Seriously?!”
Kudo Tōya ignored him and sprinted toward Shido.
Ryūma hurried after him. Before he got far, Tōya’s cool voice drifted back:
“Once you see this move, you’ll yearn to become my teammate.”
“Huh? What the hell does that even mean?”
Ryūma froze for a split second, confused—
but he didn’t have time to think. First priority: stop Kudo Tōya.
As they closed in on Shido, both activated their abilities simultaneously:
God’s Eye and Slow-Motion World.
At that moment, the battle shifted into another dimension entirely.
Seeing Tōya approach, Ryusei Shido grinned wildly.
“Haha! Finally—I get to feel that electrifying state again!”
He passed the ball to Tōya.
Tōya barely trapped it before immediately returning it.
Shido stepped close again—the gap between them now barely two meters.
Maintaining that distance, the two advanced upfield through rapid, nearly uninterrupted passing.
Ryūma repeatedly found his path cut off by their coordination—every attempt at intercepting came just a hair too late.
After several failed steals, Ryūma clenched his teeth internally:
(Damn it—how are these two in such perfect sync?)
(Tōya predicts my next movement and blocks me.)
(And Shido uses his physique and freakish reflexes to shut me out.)
(Even in Slow-Motion World, when Tōya’s slowed movements let me react—)
(Tōya uses God’s Eye to foresee my reaction and counter it!)
(What was a closed loop between us has now been shattered by Shido entering the equation.) New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on NoveI★Fire.net
(My Slow-Motion World is being suppressed by these two working together?!)
(Wait—hold on. Why am I fighting a 1v2?! Where the hell are my teammates?!)