Blue Lock Cafeteria. Building 5.
The cafeteria was a stark reminder of their reality.
"Here is your meal," the robotic server announced.
Isagi Yoichi, Rank 289, received a decent meal. Rice, miso soup, and grilled fish. Not luxury, but fuel.
He looked at the table next to him.
Igarashi (Rank 300) was staring at a bowl of plain white rice and a single pickled radish.
"What the hell is this?" Igarashi whined. "I need protein! My muscles are gonna shrink!"
Isagi took a bite of his fish, savoring the salty skin.
"It's a meritocracy, Monk," Isagi said, not bothering to look at him. "You're at the bottom. You eat like a peasant. If you want meat, climb the ladder."
Across the room, Raichi Jingo (Rank 294) slammed his fist on the table. "Don't get cocky, Isagi! Just because you got lucky in the Tag game doesn't make you the boss of us!"
Isagi stopped chewing. He slowly put his chopsticks down. The air around the table dropped ten degrees.
He turned his head to look at Raichi. His eyes were void of emotion.
"Lucky?" Isagi repeated. "You think that was luck?"
He stood up and walked over to Raichi. Raichi, who was taller and more muscular, stood up to intimidate him.
"Yeah! You just panicked and hit the wall!"
Isagi chuckled. It was a dark, low sound.
"Raichi. You breathe through your mouth. Your stance is wide, leaving your center of gravity exposed. If we were on the field right now, I could Nutmeg you three times before you even realized the ball was gone."
Raichi's face turned red. "You little—!"
"Save your energy," Isagi said, turning his back. "Ego just announced the First Selection. A round-robin tournament between the five teams in this building. Only the top two teams advance."
Isagi walked back to his tray.
"If we lose, we're all fired. So, unless you want to go back to being a no-name loser, shut up and listen to me."
Later. Team Z Locker Room.
The atmosphere was tense. They had to decide positions for the first match against Team X.
In the original timeline, this was a democracy. They played Rock-Paper-Scissors. They argued.
Not this time.
"I'm the Center Forward," Isagi stated, writing his name on the whiteboard in the 'FW' slot.
"Hold on!" Naruhaya objected. "I want to be a striker too! That's why we're here!"
"Me too!" Kunigami added. "My left shot is perfect for a striker."
Isagi tossed the marker to Kunigami. "You have a good shot, Kunigami. But your dribbling is average. You can play right wing. Cut inside and shoot when I give you the signal."
Kunigami caught the marker, frowning. "Signal? I don't take orders."
"You will if you want to score," Isagi replied. "I'll create the space. You just pull the trigger."
Isagi turned to Bachira. "Bachira. Left wing. Use your dribbling to disrupt their formation."
Bachira gave a thumbs up, his eyes sparkling. "Aye-aye, Captain!"
"I'm not the Captain," Isagi corrected. "I'm the brain. You guys are the limbs."
He looked at Raichi and Igarashi.
"You two are loud and annoying. You play defense. Get in their way. Foul them if you have to. Just don't let them shoot."
"I'm not playing defense!" Raichi screamed. "I'm a striker!"
Isagi leaned in close, his face inches from Raichi's. The aura of the 'Monster' flared up.
"Do you have a vision of the goal, Raichi? Can you see the future? Because I can. I see the path to victory. If you play striker, we lose. If you play defense, we might win. Do you want to survive, or do you want to die with your ego intact?"
Raichi gritted his teeth, veins popping in his neck. He wanted to punch Isagi. But deep down, he felt the fear. The sheer pressure coming off this guy was unnatural.
"...Fine," Raichi spat. "But if you don't score, I'm killing you."
Isagi smirked. "Deal."
He looked at the whiteboard. The formation was set. It wasn't balanced. It was aggressive. It was built entirely around feeding Isagi Yoichi.
Team X is up first, Isagi thought. They have Barou Shoei. The King.
Isagi clenched his fist.
A King versus a Visionary. Let's see whose crown breaks first.