(Oh? Planning to head the ball straight out of bounds? Not a bad idea.)
(Too bad you’re up against me~)
“You didn’t seriously gain confidence just because you scored one header, right?”
As I spoke, Ryūma Banjō exploded upward, colliding mid-air with Shōei Barō head-on.
The result? I landed firmly with the ball under control—
while Barō got completely blasted out of the air and slammed into the ground.
Without even glancing at him, I shifted straight into Slow-Motion World and sprinted full-speed toward Team B’s goal.
As expected, just as I reached the middle of their defensive third, Kudo Tōya stepped into my path, expressionless.
“Your physique is insane. I thought Barō could at least slow you down a little, but in the end, I still have to be the one to stop you.”
“Hah. Come on then—endgame!”
Ryūma burst forward. Nearing Kudo, he slammed on the brakes and cut left. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel✶fire.net
Kudo’s eyes didn’t even flicker; he stepped across and extended his right foot to block.
The moment his foot moved, Ryūma switched his motion entirely, flicking the ball with his heel.
Kudo still didn’t react outwardly. His previously idle left foot snapped inward, closing in beside his right.
(Now! This time you definitely won’t react!)
Just before his left foot trapped the ball, Ryūma pulled it back with his right and spun into a Marseille Turn to drive it further left—
—but Kudo had already predicted it.
Ryūma turned, and Kudo cut left almost simultaneously.
(What!? He read that too? Fine then!)
Ryūma gritted his teeth and heel-flicked the ball back to the right.
(Then I’ll use my speed to overwhelm him!)
But Kudo had already read the intention the moment Ryūma’s muscles tensed for the move.
Still, Kudo’s burst speed couldn’t match mine, and I recovered the ball again.
Yet Kudo was already blocking my path once more.
(This lateral movement won’t shake him… I need a chance for a proper split move!)
(The instant I kick the ball, I need to switch into Limit-Breaking State—only then can I outrun his predictions!)
With that thought, Ryūma used another heel cut to avoid Kudo’s tackle, then shifted direction sharply and dashed the other way.
Their nonstop duel resumed. After several exchanges, Ryūma suddenly caught a glimpse of an opening mid-feint.
(Is he out of stamina? Or is it bait, waiting for me to walk into it?)
(Whatever—this chance is rare. Even if it’s a trap, I’m going in!)
Ryūma seized the moment and fired the ball toward Kudo’s left—right where the opening appeared.
Almost the same instant, Limit-Breaking State activated.
Ryūma shot forward like a bullet leaving the chamber.
In the next second, he blew past Kudo and tore after the ball.
Ryūma dove forward, body stretched low. As the ball came into range,
he gathered all his power into his right leg and blasted a full-force Blitz Shot at Team B’s goal.
Just as Ryūma had predicted in his quadruple Slow-Motion World, no one except the keeper was in front of Team B’s net.
Blue Lock’s defenders failed to intercept—again.
GOAL!! Team A 5 : 4 Team B
At the same time, the mechanical voice chimed:
“Blue Lock, Third Selection—Adaptive Training. First match complete.
Team A wins, five to four!”
“Hmph, I win, Kudo Tōya!!”
“I told you—you’ll never beat me. After all, I’m—”
Ryūma was mid-brag when he noticed Tōya swaying. His balance was shot, like he could collapse at any moment.
Ryūma frowned and rushed forward. Just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Tōya suddenly pitched forward.
Startled, Ryūma caught him quickly.
“Hey, Tōya! What happened? I didn’t hit you or anything.”
“You’re not trying to fake an injury on me, right?”
Ryūma joked, but Tōya didn’t respond. His condition was clearly not normal.
Ryūma eased him down onto the ground. Once he finally got a good look at Tōya’s face, his chest tightened.
(What the hell happened to him…?)
Tōya’s eyes were shut tight, brows knotted in pain as if enduring something severe.
(Don’t tell me this is connected to his full-field prediction ability…)
“Doctor! Where’s the doctor!?”
“Shouldn’t someone call emergency services!?”
Ryūma flinched at Nijiro Nanase suddenly shouting, then quickly snapped back and yelled:
“Hey, Ego! Someone collapsed! Get medical staff here!”
“Relax, everyone. This is one of Tōya’s usual issues.”
Ryūma blinked, confused. He turned as Ryusei Shido approached and asked,
“Usual? This happens often?”
“Not often. But whenever Tōya overuses his eyes, he ends up .”
Shido’s usual cheeky grin vanished. He knelt beside Tōya, studying him seriously.
A moment passed. Shido stayed silent.
“Come on, man—don’t stop there. ‘Except’ what?”
“Except… every other time, he just passed out. So why is he in so much pain this time?”
Ryūma sighed heavily. Seeing Tōya’s agonized expression made his heart twist.
(Damn… should I pinch his philtrum?)
Just as he reached out, the arena doors swung open.
A group of medical staff in white coats rushed toward them.
Ryūma instantly backed off—this was a job for professionals.
If he accidentally hurt Tōya trying something stupid, he definitely didn’t want a visit from the police afterward.