"Hah, I'm definitely beating him next time. It was the first time I saw him in that state, so I wasn't used to it—but he won't get that lucky again!"
Ryūma Banjō looked at Rin Itoshi, who was still putting on a tough act, and let out a helpless laugh.
"Alright, it's just the two of us now—can you stop acting cool for a minute?"
"Last time you were this close to getting played like a clown, remember?"
Ryūma once again proved that some people really do live dangerously.
Feeling the cold aura pouring off of Rin, Ryūma immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing. He hurried to explain:
"I know you're in a hurry, but don't be."
"I'm just being nice and reminding you—if he hadn't hit his limit last time, the outcome could've gone either way."
Rin didn't reply. He simply shot Ryūma a frosty glance before heading straight to the cafeteria.
Ryūma shrugged, grateful to have survived another day, then followed toward the cafeteria as well.
"Eh? Hiori?! You're here too!"
"Yeah. Congratulations, Ryūma—another win." Yo Hiori said, then glanced toward Rin Itoshi, who was eating alone.
"Oh, and congrats to you too, Rin."
After grabbing his meal, Ryūma hurried over to Yo Hiori and sat beside him. The moment he sat down, he started complaining:
"You saw the livestream, right? I got a hat trick! But! I'm not happy at all!"
"Huh? Why?" Yo Hiori asked, puzzled.
"Everyone was either silent or brushing me off like Nagi. Nobody cheered for me—do you know how painful that is?"
"The whole match felt like bullying amateurs—super boring. And without anyone celebrating, what's the difference from playing a single-player game?"
"Don't be sad, Ryūma. I'll celebrate for you right now!"
"A hat trick!? Ryūma, you're amazing! You're practically the world's best striker!"
Yo Hiori fought back laughter while putting on a ridiculously convincing performance.
"Oh? Alright then, Hiori—let's see how I deal with you today!"
Ryūma suddenly hooked his left arm around Yo Hiori's neck and started aggressively messing up his blue hair with his right hand.
Yo Hiori immediately grabbed his head and begged for mercy:
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Ryūma! I just washed my hair! ╰(⇀‸↼)╯"
"Oh~? Then I definitely can't let you off!"
And as the two continued fooling around...
...inside the Japan Nation Federation's confidential meeting room...
A middle-aged man in a pristine suit smiled broadly at the pot-bellied, balding chairman seated at the head of the table.
"I understand, Chairman Buratsuta!"
"Everything is for the future of Japan football!!"
"I'll take responsibility and lead the U-20 national team to victory!"
The speaker was the U-20 team coach—Yasumori Hoichi.
And the man he was addressing was our old acquaintance, the Federation chairman, Hirotoshi Buratsuta.
Hearing Hoichi's declaration, Buratsuta grinned so wide it nearly reached his ears.
"That's the Hoichi I know!"
"No wonder everyone says you 'ignore everything except the Federation'—Japan 's very own 'Earless Hoichi'!"
"Please don't say that—that's just something people joke about online..." Hoichi replied awkwardly. But Buratsuta didn't care in the slightest and continued:
"Alright, alright. You understand our objective this time, yes?"
Yasumori Hoichi nodded and raised one finger with a confident smile.
"Of course."
"The world-renowned prodigy Sae Itoshi will be joining the U-20 national team!"
"You want to turn this explosive news into massive profits through a single match, don't you?"
Buratsuta spread his hands and laughed loudly.
"Hahaha! Exactly!"
"It seems Sae Itoshi is quite interested in the Blue Lock project!"
"We've already sent over all the footage from that facility—just as he requested!"
"And conveniently, Jinpachi Ego wants to organize another match!"
Hoichi finally understood Buratsuta's plan and grinned as well.
"I see!"
"So we can strike it rich and destroy Blue Lock in one go? Two birds with one stone!"
Buratsuta jumped up excitedly, slapping Hoichi on the shoulder.
"Exactly! Make sure you win cleanly!"
"Understood!"
Just as Hoichi bowed deeply, the meeting room door suddenly flew open.
A pink-haired young man dressed head-to-toe in black, with a white shirt under his jacket, walked in expressionlessly.
He stared indifferently at Buratsuta and Hoichi—who had been conspiring moments earlier.
"Ah! Wait, Sae! You can't just walk in like that!"
Another man rushed in right after him, visibly panicked.
The pink-haired youth was, of course, one of the New Generation World Eleven—Rin Itoshi's older brother, Sae Itoshi.
The flustered middle-aged man was Sae's assistant, Girolan Dabadie.
Seeing Sae, both Buratsuta and Hoichi immediately switched to obsequious smiles.
"My, my! Player Sae Itoshi—what an honor!"
"We didn't expect you to join our meeting!"
"We look forward to your guidance, genius!"
Hoichi even reached out for a handshake.
But Sae couldn't be bothered. He turned impatiently to Girolan Dabadie and asked:
"Who's the fat guy and the one with the weird bangs?"
Girolan broke into a cold sweat and quickly whispered:
"H-hey, that's the chairman and the U-20 national team coach!?"
Sae turned back to Buratsuta and Hoichi, still expressionless.
"Great. That makes this easy. Hey, you two old men."
"I watched the U-20 footage."
"To put it in one sentence—they're all garbage."
"Especially the forwards. They're like vomit made from rotten fruit."
Buratsuta and Hoichi froze on the spot.
But Sae continued mercilessly:
"The only reason I agreed to join the national team was to play against the Blue Lock guys."
"But this level is nothing but a school club team. Completely unacceptable. I'm quitting."
"You… Are you insulting my team!?" Hoichi trembled with rage.
Thankfully, Buratsuta hurried to smooth things over.
"Calm down, calm down! Be mature about this, Hoichi!"
He then turned to Sae with a forced grin.
"You don't like the forwards, Player Sae Itoshi?"
"Then we'll just recruit new ones! Even if they're over the age limit!"
"Minamino, Tsuneyasu, Nakajima—anyone is fine!"
"Anyone?" Sae asked.
Buratsuta's eyes lit up. "Yes, yes!"
"As long as they're Japan-born—even Ramos or Miura would do!"
But Sae had no interest in those names. Instead, he offered a different candidate.
"Well, there is someone in Blue Lock—a forward I really want to team up with."