Chapter 23: The Sharper Spear
An 8-0 loss on the pitch—what does it feel like? For any player dreaming of a professional career, it's a crushing wave of despair, a suffocating sense of powerlessness.
Ikki Niko knew that feeling all too well. Just days ago, Team Y had faced Team V, a squad brimming with monsters: a speed demon who tore through defenses, an all-rounder with flawless vision and pinpoint passing, and a genius whose explosive athleticism and ball control were unmatched. Niko, with no physical gifts to speak of, relied solely on his sharp eyes and relentless mind, reading the pitch like an open book. But even giving everything he had, he couldn't stop Team V's onslaught. Three offensive juggernauts left him drained, chasing shadows.
The scoreline: 0-8.
Yet Niko refused to break. In the days that followed, he analyzed his Team Y teammates, searching for a spark. The truth hit hard: aside from Hibiki Okawa, their offense was nearly nonexistent. Despair crept in, threatening to swallow him whole.
But surrender? Never.
Even ordinary players have dreams that burn bright. Niko didn't have the raw talent of Blue Lock's geniuses, but he had his mind—a mind that never stopped scheming. He was certain he could find a way to turn the tide.
Today was the day to prove it.
Team Z, their next opponents, didn't boast the terrifying firepower of Team V. No untouchable prodigies, no overwhelming stars. I can win this, Niko told himself, his resolve hardening on the pitch.
Beeep.
"Match continues. Throw-in for Team Z," the loudspeaker blared, snapping Niko back to the moment.
Win. The word echoed in his heart like a war drum.
...
"Tch, tougher than I thought," Kira muttered, scanning Team Y's players. He'd assumed a team crushed 8-0 would be demoralized, their spirits broken. But the fire in their eyes told a different story—each face radiated defiance.
In just a few days, they'd clawed their way out of defeat's shadow and built a cohesive tactical system. Who had ignited this spark? Kira's gaze settled on Ikki Niko, the number 7 with long bangs, constantly scanning the field with predatory focus.
Just like the manga, Kira thought. Niko was Team Y's core, their strategist. His burning desire to win was contagious, a rare intensity that stirred something in Kira, reminding him of the stakes in Blue Lock. "Well then," he grinned, "time to show them reality. Grit alone doesn't win matches here."
"Use Meguru Bachira Attribute Trial Card," Kira whispered.
[Meguru Bachira Trial Card activated!]
[Dribbling +20 (Continuous decay)]
[Speed +15 (Continuous decay)]
[Duration: 10 minutes]
If one Bachira couldn't crack Team Y's ironclad defense, then two would. Kira's lips curled into a sly smirk.
The ball danced between Team Z's players, their 4-3-3 formation pushing forward aggressively. It found its way back to Isagi's feet. Sweat dripped from his brow as he scanned the pitch, frustration mounting. Team Y's defense was a fortress—every pass he tried was smothered, every lane blocked. As Team Z's playmaker, he felt useless, a shadow of the player he wanted to be. Their last win had leaned heavily on Kira's brilliance, not his own. Am I going to be a bystander again?
Isagi's eyes darted across the field, searching for an opening. Then he noticed it—Kira was dropping deeper, signaling for the ball. But why? Isagi hesitated. Even if Kira received it, Team Y's defenders were swarming. It seemed pointless.
Yet, a strange instinct pulsed in his mind, sharp and clear: Pass to him.
My premonition of a goal? Isagi's heart raced. He surged forward, drawing defenders, and shouted, "Bachira!"
Bachira sprang into action, darting toward the ball. Team Y reacted instantly. "Stop him!" a defender barked. "Don't let him get the ball—he's a nightmare when he starts dribbling!"
Two Team Y players lunged to block Bachira's path. But Isagi had other plans. With a deft flick, he sent a through pass slicing toward Kira, who had dropped back perfectly to receive it.
Nice one, Isagi, Kira thought, a spark of approval in his mind. If you couldn't read that play, you'd have no business as our playmaker.
The two defenders who'd committed to Bachira froze, caught off guard. We were played! But Team Y's discipline kicked in—a burly defender slid into position to confront Kira, eyes locked on the ball.
Team Z's players leaned forward, anticipation crackling. Kira's Rainbow Flick against Barou in the last match had set their pulses racing. What trick would he pull now?
Kira charged straight at the defender, his pace unrelenting. The Team Y player braced himself, confident in his speed. This guy's fast, but I can handle him.
Niko watched from the back, ready to cover. He's going for speed? That's it? The defender facing Kira was no lumbering giant—he could match pace for pace. Kira wouldn't slip through so easily.
But then, Kira moved.
With a sudden stop, he planted his foot on the ball, freezing it in place. His body twisted, fluid and graceful, like a dancer defying gravity. A Marseille Turn—executed with flawless precision.
Bachira's jaw dropped. "That's… my move!" he blurted, eyes wide. He hadn't even debuted it in Blue Lock yet. That technique was the result of years of practice, a signature of his chaotic style. How was Kira pulling it off so effortlessly?
As a master of the move, Bachira knew its beauty: it was visually stunning, barely slowed momentum, and left defenders flat-footed. The Team Y defender stood stunned, outmaneuvered in an instant.
Got styled on? the defender thought, grasping for hope. It's fine—Niko's back there with the others. They'll stop him.
Niko's pulse quickened as Kira breezed past the first defender. He signaled a teammate, and they closed in together, a two-man wall. But Kira was ready. He swept his foot across the grass, halting the ball, then spun again, hooking it with his right foot to slip past the second defender.
Niko stuck close, refusing to be shaken. "It ends here," he growled, lunging forward as Kira's turn left him momentarily off-balance, aiming to steal the ball.
Kira's mind was a step ahead. Nice try, Niko, he thought, flicking the ball back and to the right with his heel—a precise, unexpected pass.
Team Y's defense crumbled. Bachira's initial run had pulled players out of position, and Kira's dribbling had drawn even more. Their backline was wide open.
A figure surged forward, meeting the pass with perfect timing: Isagi Yoichi. His eyes burned with a strange intensity, as if he'd seen the goal before it happened. He raised his right foot, aimed at the net, and struck the ball with force.
Kira's vision nearly went black. Isagi, what the hell?! The shot was painfully straightforward—dead center, no angle, no deception. This isn't the manga Isagi! Even a half-decent keeper could save it.
The Team Y goalkeeper, rattled by Kira's earlier chaos, still reacted in time, diving to parry the ball away.
Isagi clutched his head, groaning in regret. A golden chance, squandered.
"Rebound!" Niko shouted, sprinting toward the loose ball.
Kira was already moving, his legs a blur. Isagi, you're killing me, he thought, frustration bubbling. He hadn't realized that his own strength as a teammate was easing the pressure on Isagi, stunting his growth compared to the manga's desperate crucible.
The two collided in a race for the ball, but Kira's agility won out. He reached it first, claiming possession at the landing spot. Without hesitation, he raised his foot to shoot.
The goalkeeper, forced to guess, dove right.
Kira went left—a low, blistering shot that hugged the ground.
Boom!
The ball ripped into the net.
Goal!
"Nice one, Kira!" Team Z erupted, their cheers echoing across the pitch.
Despite his inner grumbling about Isagi's miss, Kira flashed a grin and jogged over to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "Let's keep it going, yeah?"
Isagi nodded, still kicking himself but fueled by the team's energy. Together, they celebrated, Team Z's spirit roaring to life.
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