Bastard München players stepped out of the tunnel.
Floodlights blazed overhead, casting long shadows across the pristine pitch. The grass shimmered under the intensity, every blade alive beneath the anticipation of the final match.
PXG was already there.
Waiting.
Among them—
One figure moved.
No—
Exploded forward.
"HEY! ISAGI!! FREAKING FINALLY WE UNITE!!"
Shidou's voice tore through, wild and unrestrained, his grin stretching wide as his eyes locked onto Isagi the instant he emerged. There was no hesitation in his stride—only pure, chaotic excitement as he sprinted straight toward him.
He had been waiting.
Watching the tunnel like a predator.
And now—
His target had arrived.
Isagi instinctively stiffened.
The sheer intensity radiating from Shidou hit him before the distance even closed.
Before Shidou could reach him completely—
Another voice cut in.
"Hey, Mr. Mega Pervert!"
The tone was lighter.
Playful.
Isagi's eyes shifted.
Charles approached with an easy smile, hands relaxed at his sides as if the tension of the final match didn't exist for him at all. His gaze flickered between Shidou and Isagi, clearly amused by the situation unfolding.
Isagi tilted his head slightly, confusion surfacing.
"…Huh?"
His eyes flicked toward Shidou.
Then back to Charles.
'Mega pervert?'
I mean—
Shidou definitely was one.
On the field.
Off the field.
Probably the worst kind if he had to be honest.
But coming from Charles—
That label somehow circled back around into something that made sense in a completely different way.
Before Isagi could piece it together—
"He meant you, Isagi."
Shidou cut in with a grin, already sliding up beside him.
An arm hooked around Isagi's shoulder without permission, dragging him in close like they were long-lost teammates instead of rivals about to clash.
At the same time, Charles stepped in closer too—far too close—his face now just within Isagi's personal space, eyes glinting with curiosity.
Isagi's confusion only deepened—
Until—
Shidou leaned in.
Right next to his ear.
Close enough that Isagi could feel his breath.
"Let's have a hot battle of perverts tonight~"
The whisper slid in low.
And instantly—
A sharp shiver ran down Isagi's spine.
His entire body reacted before his mind could.
He jerked away, breaking out of Shidou's grip with visible discomfort.
"Get off me! And don't say shit like that in my ear!!"
Isagi snapped, voice rising as he created distance between them, one hand instinctively brushing his shoulder as if to shake off the lingering sensation.
For the first time—
A thought crossed his mind.
'…I kind of respect Sae now.'
The fact that Sae had dealt with this guy—constantly—without breaking composure…
That was huge.
Considering the fact that Isagi was already at his limit.
And Shidou—
Was just getting started.
"But it's true… Also, you already know how crazy I get while watching your games…"
Shidou's voice dropped slightly, his grin stretching wider—too wide—his expression twisting into something uncomfortably intense.
There was a rawness in his eyes, something unfiltered and obsessive that made it hard to look at him directly.
"…You've been blowing yourself in every match since the last time we met…and I've been getting crazy good explosion while watching them..."
His fingers twitched at his sides, restless, like his body couldn't contain the excitement building inside him.
His gaze sharpened as he looked up at Isagi, pupils trembling with anticipation as their was that intense aroused look on his face.
"I've got a feeling… a strong one…"
His shoulders shook faintly, a shiver of pure exhilaration running through him.
"…That tonight I'm gonna blow the biggest load of my life~"
The words came out warped with excitement, his entire presence radiating that same overwhelming intensity.
Isagi felt it again—
That same chill crawling slowly up his spine, like something off was brushing too close to him.
"Stop… please stop talking…"
He let out a tired sigh, dragging a hand down his face as if trying to physically wipe away the conversation. His shoulders sagged slightly, the exhaustion already settling in.
This match hasn't even started…
And yet—
Mentally, he could already feel it draining him.
"Hm…? You some kind of closet pervert?"
Charles tilted his head, genuinely puzzled by Isagi's reaction. His tone wasn't mocking—just curious as he was just trying to categorize him.
"Nah, he's the proud pervert."
Shidou cut in instantly, grinning as he turned toward Charles while punching his own chest, completely confident in his assessment.
Isagi's eye twitched.
"I was hoping for that…"
Charles let out a small, delighted laugh, his eyes lighting up in a way that mirrored Shidou's unsettling excitement.
At first, he had only watched Isagi because Loki told him to.
He didn't want to be part of the assessment sessions but Loki had dragged him to watch the match.
But somewhere along the way—
That changed.
The way Isagi twisted the flow of the game purely for himself—
Not for the team.
Not for logic.
But for his own satisfaction in reaching the goal.
It was… addictive to watch.
Charles had gone back.
Watched every match.
And now—
He was here.
Right in front of him.
That same anticipation bubbled inside Charles, matching Shidou's chaotic energy in a completely different way.
Both of them turned back toward Isagi—
To feel the presence of the Mega Pervert again.
But—
"…Huh?"
The space in front of them was empty.
Isagi was gone.
He had slipped away without a word, without a sound, the moment their attention drifted.
He bailed.
Because whatever those two had going on—
He wanted absolutely no part of it.
.
.
.
"Pfft—! Hahaha—!"
The laughter broke out before it could be contained.
"It's not funny…"
Isagi stood in front of them, shoulders slightly slumped, expression flat with lingering irritation as the sound of their laughter echoed around him.
Hiori had his head turned slightly away, one hand covering his mouth as his shoulders shook despite his best effort to stay composed. His eyes were narrowed, not in mockery—but in genuine amusement.
Yukimiya didn't even bother hiding it.
A low chuckle slipped out first, then another, until it fully broke into open laughter. He tilted his head back slightly, exhaling through a grin as he replayed the scene in his mind—Shidou leaning in, whispering absolute nonsense into Isagi's ear.
Raichi was the worst of them.
He didn't even try.
"HAHA—! That was gold!"
He pointed at Isagi without restraint, his voice loud, his grin wide, completely unbothered by Isagi's growing annoyance.
They had seen it.
All of it.
From the moment Shidou sprinted toward him, to the whisper, to Isagi's immediate recoil.
And because they remembered—
The U-20 match.
That chaotic interaction.
That same bizarre chemistry between Isagi and Shidou.
If anything, this reunion had only lived up to expectations.
Which made it impossible not to laugh.
And in the center of it—
Isagi stood there, sulking.
His brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, gaze turned away like he didn't even want to acknowledge them anymore.
Normally, things like this wouldn't get to him.
He had thick skin.
He could ignore taunts, pressure, noise—none of it stuck.
But Shidou—
Shidou was different.
It wasn't just what he said.
It was how he said it.
That unhinged energy.
That complete lack of boundaries.
That freakish way of expressing everything.
It got under his skin.
Annoyingly fast.
"…This guy…"
Isagi muttered under his breath, still clearly bothered.
"There, there~"
A soft voice came from beside him.
Kurona stepped in quietly, placing a hand on Isagi's back and giving it a few light pats, almost like he was calming down an agitated animal.
Not mocking.
Just… soothing.
Though the timing made it feel a little worse.
Because behind that gesture—
The laughter still hadn't fully died down.
Isagi exhaled sharply, shoulders rising and falling as he tried to reset himself.
He dragged a hand through his hair, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked toward the pitch ahead.
As Isagi forced his attention forward, trying to drown out the lingering irritation and laughter behind him—
A familiar presence cut through it.
"Haa… of course…"
The sigh slipped out of him before he could stop it.
Footsteps approached.
Isagi's eyes shifted—
And there he was.
Rin.
Walking straight toward him.
'…Of course he would be next.'
Blue Lock really was full of exhausting personalities.
And just when he had finally escaped Shidou.
Rin stopped directly in front of him.
Close enough that neither of them had to raise their voices.
"I hope you're not getting too comfortable with that top spot."
His voice was low.
Isagi didn't respond.
He just watched.
Rin's gaze sharpened further.
"Today's the day… when I finally surpass the both of you…"
The intensity in his eyes deepened.
Something feral flickered beneath the surface—raw, restrained aggression that barely stayed contained within his calm exterior.
A faint, smoky pressure seemed to gather around his gaze, like the air itself was being pulled into his focus.
"I'm gonna drag you from that top spot… to the mud."
The challenge landed with weight.
For a brief second—
The space between them froze.
Then—
Isagi felt it.
A slow, calm smile began to form on his face.
The number two player in Blue Lock standing in front of him, declaring war without hesitation.
Isagi's eyes sharpened slightly, that quiet fire returning behind them.
"You're right…"
His voice came out calm.
Eyes gently closed as if he were agreeing without resistance.
"I'm pretty comfortable with my spot right now…"
There was no tension in his posture.
Unbothered.
"I mean… it's not like you're worth enough to get a salary boost of 220 million…"
The words slipped out just as smoothly.
And yet—
They struck.
Then—
Isagi opened his eyes.
And the warmth disappeared.
"Not with me on the field."
His gaze locked onto Rin's.
Rin didn't look away.
If anything—
The intensity in his eyes deepened.
The two stood there, staring each other down.
Then—
"Alright, alright… stop flirting and let's get to it already."
Karasu's voice cut through the moment, snapping the tension before it could escalate further.
"Alright! I'm going all in!"
Nanase shouted, trying to hype himself up, his voice filled with nervous energy and determination.
Isagi was walking back toward his position of Defensive Midfielder.
He settled into position, adjusting his stance slightly as he lifted his gaze forward.
His eyes traced the PXG's formation of 3-4-1-2.
Three at the back.
A compact defensive line.
Ahead of them—
Tokimitsu and Karasu controlling the center.
Wide outlets—
Nanase and Zantetsu stretching the field.
And in the pocket—
Charles as the AMF.
And at the very front—
Two figures.
Rin.
Shidou.
A dual spear.
One precise.
And the unhinged one.
.
.
.
Kaiser remained at the front, positioned slightly to the left of the striker pairing. From there, his gaze swept across Bastard München's formation one more time—not out of uncertainty, but out of instinct.
And what he saw was something he hadn't truly experienced in a long while.
Aside from the two central defenders anchoring the back line, every position was occupied by Blue Lock players.
No Ness.
No familiar presence at his side.
Even after making the conscious decision to abandon reliance on the freedom Ness once provided, this was different. This wasn't a choice in the middle of play or a temporary adjustment within a system—this was the starting point. The structure itself had changed.
For the first time in a long while, Kaiser stood on the field without the one player who had always revolved around him.
The realization didn't shake him, but it did register. It sat quietly in the back of his mind, a subtle shift in the conditions of the match that he could neither ignore nor dismiss. His role remained the same, but the environment around him had transformed.
He was alone.
Beside him, Kunigami stood at the center spot with the ball resting beneath his foot. His posture was solid, grounded, his focus already locked ahead.
The stadium lights burned overhead, casting sharp shadows across the pitch.
Then the whistle cut through the air.
Kunigami moved immediately.
His foot pushed the ball forward with force, sending it rolling into open space as his body followed in the same motion.
There was no pause to assess, no intention to involve others. He took the initiative entirely for himself, accelerating into the space he had just created.
Kunigami drove forward the moment the ball left his foot, his body leaning into the run as if he intended to force the match into motion through sheer will alone.
Though He didn't get far.
A figure cut across his path almost instantly.
Shidou.
There was no attempt to slow down, no effort to angle the approach. Shidou threw himself directly into Kunigami's lane, his movement reckless, aggressive, timed to collide rather than contain.
Kunigami's gaze sharpened the moment it landed on him.
The recognition was immediate.
So was the response.
The space between them disappeared in an instant as their shoulders crashed into each other with heavy impact. The force of it rippled through both of them, studs digging into the turf as they fought for balance without yielding ground.
Neither stepped back.
The clash wasn't just physical—it carried the weight of everything unresolved between them.
Their arms came up almost simultaneously, each trying to force the other off balance. Muscles tensed, shoulders twisted, their frames grinding against each other as they struggled for dominance in that single moment of contact.
Shidou grinned through it.
The collision broke just enough for movement to resume. Kunigami used that sliver of separation immediately, dragging the ball forward with a strong touch, trying to power past Shidou before he could fully recover.
For a split second, it looked possible.
But Shidou reacted just as fast.
He pivoted sharply, his body snapping back into pursuit as he lunged toward the ball, eyes locked onto it. His foot extended, ready to snatch it away the moment Kunigami's control loosened.
And Kunigami saw it.
Just as Shidou closed in, Kunigami abruptly halted his forward motion, planting his foot and killing his momentum in one sharp movement. The sudden stop forced a shift in balance—just enough to create a new angle.
Then—
He struck the ball across with force.
The ball was slammed toward the left flank, cutting through the open space Shidou had just vacated in his attempt to intercept.
It traveled fast.
Directly toward Yukimiya.
Yukimiya wasn't surprised.
As he surged forward, eyes fixed on the ball as it sped across the turf toward the left flank, his body already leaning into the run, ready to take the first touch and drive the attack further.
Just then—
A blur cut across his path.
Zantetsu.
He burst into the lane with his explosive acceleration, his sudden arrival collapsing the space before Yukimiya could even extend his stride fully. There was no finesse to the interception—just raw speed and commitment as he reached the ball first and stabbed at it to break the pass.
The contact wasn't clean.
The ball didn't settle.
It ricocheted off his foot, bouncing awkwardly back toward the center rather than staying under his control.
For a moment, it hung loose.
"I-I got it."
Tokimitsu reacted immediately.
His body surged forward, long strides eating up the distance as he locked onto the loose ball. His frame leaned heavily into the run, muscles tightening as he prepared to take control the moment it dropped into reach.
He got there.
Or at least—
'Huh...?'
He thought he did.
Hiori arrived at the same instant.
Sliding in from the side, his timing cutting perfectly across Tokimitsu's path. His foot met the ball before Tokimitsu could claim it, redirecting it cleanly into his own control.
The interception was controlled.
A complete shift of possession in a single touch.
Hiori's body adjusted smoothly as he brought the ball under him, already preparing for the next pass, his eyes lifting to scan the field—
Then—
"It's mine."
The voice came from behind.
Close.
Too close.
Karasu.
He stepped in without hesitation, his approach angled perfectly to exploit the smallest gap in Hiori's control.
Even this fast paced chaos, there was no wasted motion, just a decisive intrusion into Hiori's space.
His foot slid in.
And the ball was gone.
Stolen straight off Hiori's foot before he could even complete his next action.
"No. It was mine from the start…"
The words cut in just as Karasu began to shift his weight forward, his body already coiling to transition from interception into attack.
For a fraction of a second, the rhythm belonged to him—the ball at his feet, the field opening ahead.
Then it was gone.
Kunigami arrived from behind with relentless momentum, closing the gap with a single, powerful stride. His presence crashed into the moment before Karasu could even take his second touch.
Karasu's grip over the ball tightened instinctively.
"Urgh—"
He braced, trying to shield it, angling his body to keep Kunigami off. His foot adjusted, attempting to lock the ball under control—
But Kunigami didn't slow down.
He reached in.
Longer.
Stronger.
His leg extended just enough to break through Karasu's guard, his foot striking the ball with raw force rather than finesse.
The ball shot upward, spinning as it lifted into the air, breaking free from both of them and hanging for a split second before beginning its descent.
Then—
It dropped.
Right into Nanase's path.
Nanase reacted instantly, stepping into the ball's fall, his eyes locked onto it as he prepared to bring it under control. His posture tightened, ready to secure possession and stabilize PXG's flow—
But he wasn't alone.
Kaiser was already there.
Closing in on him.
His movement was sharp, his eyes fixed on the ball as he angled his approach to cut Nanase off before he could settle it. The timing was perfect—another half-second, and the ball would have been his.
But it wasn't as Nanase saw it.
Felt it.
And chose.
Instead of taking control—
He acted immediately.
His left foot struck the ball forward the instant it reached him, redirecting it in one smooth motion before Kaiser's interception could complete.
Kaiser's body snapped sharply as he adjusted, turning in the direction of the pass, but the ball had already left.
Nanase didn't look at him.
His gaze remained fixed ahead.
Locked onto his target.
"Go…"
The word left his lips quietly, almost like a release.
The ball traveled forward—
Toward Itoshi Rin.
.
.
.
.
.
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