Blue Lock - Conqueror!

30 minutes before the announcement

Control Room

Ego leaned back in his chair, his posture as sharp and deliberate as the words he'd just delivered to the remaining 29 players. The tension still hung in the air, lingering like a storm cloud after the final crack of thunder. These players, those outside the prestigious Top 6, now had their fates intertwined with the challenge he had laid before them: to earn their places in the Blue Lock 11 lineup through a grueling battle of assertion and cohesion. It was a high-stakes crucible where only the strongest would emerge unbroken.

As the murmurs of the players faded into the distance, Ego turned his focus to the stack of documents on his desk. His pale fingers danced over the papers, his piercing eyes scanning their contents with the precision of a predator assessing its prey. Numbers, projections, and tactical analyses filled his mind like a symphony of data. He was deep in thought when the sound of a door sliding open broke his concentration.

Anri walked in, the faint hum of her heels on the polished floor echoing in the sterile room. She carried a sleek tablet in her hands, a bright smile playing on her lips, contrasting with the cold, clinical environment of the control room.

"Ego, I think they're convinced" 

She said, her tone laced with a quiet triumph.

Without looking up, Ego asked,

"Did they add anything specific?"

"No" 

Anri replied, stepping closer to his desk. Her voice carried a note of satisfaction, though tempered by caution.

Ego finally lifted his gaze, adjusting his glasses with a deliberate push. The sharp glint in his eyes betrayed his calculating mind, always two steps ahead. He gave a slight nod before returning his attention to the documents, but Anri could tell he was listening.

The JFU's president had been a difficult wall to breach, but Isagi's action made it easier. He never expected the Blue Lock team to defeat the World 5 because it was an impossible task for a bunch of high-schoolers, It was presented so the players would know how high the level of Football can go but Isagi's team had defeated the World Five—a feat no one had thought possible. It was a game-changer, a moment that sent shockwaves through the minds of the president and executives of JFU.

The victory had saved the JFU a staggering 550 million yen, silencing the skeptics and leaving the JFU executives with little ammunition to oppose the project. For Ego, it was a strategic masterpiece. The win was more than just a financial triumph; it was a weapon—a statement of Blue Lock's undeniable potential. The executives, now thoroughly impressed, had gone from doubting to dreaming. They saw dollar signs in Isagi Yoichi, envisioning a golden opportunity to turn the young striker into a star capable of driving profits and bolstering Japan's football legacy.

"The JFU has made the match official now" 

Anri said, her voice pulling Ego from his thoughts.

Ego's lips curled into a thin smile. He had anticipated this move. In fact, he'd orchestrated it from the beginning. But hearing the proposal come directly from the JFU's president only cemented his belief in the strength of his strategy.

"No conditions?" 

He asked, a faint note of skepticism in his tone.

"None," 

Anri confirmed. 

"They want it to be a friendly match."

Ego chuckled, a low, calculating sound that sent a shiver through the room. Friendly? The word held no meaning to him. There was no such thing as a friendly match in Blue Lock. Every game was a battlefield, every moment a test of survival. But the JFU didn't need to know that.

"Interesting," he muttered. 

"They're making it easier for me."

Ego rose from his chair, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the desk. He placed his hands on the surface, leaning forward as he stared at the documents before him. His mind was already plotting, refining, and sharpening his plan to a razor's edge.

"They'll think it's friendly," he said, his voice low and measured. 

"But for us, it's do or die."

Anri hesitated. 

"Are you going to tell the players about the proposal?"

Ego straightened, his gaze as cold and unyielding as steel. 

"Of course not. I've already told them what they need to hear."

He turned to face her fully, his presence filling the room like a force of nature. 

"If they lose, Blue Lock ends. They lose the right to represent Japan. That fear will drive them. It'll push them to grow faster than they ever thought possible."

Anri frowned, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. 

"But the match is in four weeks. That's not a lot of time—"

"It's more than enough," 

Ego interrupted, his tone final. 

"Pressure creates diamonds, Anri. And under this pressure, they'll either rise... or crumble."

Anri glanced down at her tablet, then back at Ego. His confidence was absolute, unshakable. Even as the stakes grew higher, his belief in his players—and in his methods—remained steadfast.

Anri hesitated as she approached Ego, her footsteps soft against the cold, sterile floor of the control room. Her chest tightened with curiosity and a hint of nervousness. It wasn't often that she questioned Ego directly, but this was different. This was about Isagi Yoichi, the player who had defied all expectations and climbed to the very top of Blue Lock's ranks.

"…Did you predict that Isagi's growth would be this great?"

Her voice was hesitant, almost timid, as she broke the silence. The question had lingered in her mind since the early days of the project, gnawing at her with each jaw-dropping performance from Isagi.

Ego, seated in his usual posture of deliberate calculation, didn't respond immediately. His sharp eyes stayed fixed on the papers spread before him, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk. The pause stretched long enough for Anri to feel a flicker of regret—had she overstepped?

Finally, Ego shifted, leaning back in his chair with an air of calculated amusement. Adjusting his glasses, he glanced at her with a smirk that betrayed both confidence and a touch of condescension.

"Predict? Obviously, I did not."

Anri blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected such a straightforward answer. Ego continued, his tone sharp and unrelenting.

"The reason I chose Isagi wasn't because I foresaw his physical growth or his meteoric rise. It was because, in him, I saw something familiar. Something raw but deeply resonant. He was like a younger version of myself."

Ego's gaze shifted to the monitor, where Isagi's footage from past games played on a loop. His smirk deepened as he gestured toward the screen.

"His way of thinking while playing football—his instincts, his hunger, his ability to read the field—it was identical to mine. I could see my younger self in him, the part of me that believed football was a stage for domination, for rewriting the flow of the game with a single decisive action."

Anri's eyes widened. 

"You're saying his mindset was the key?"

Ego nodded slightly, his expression growing more serious. 

"Exactly. But the real surprise came during the Finals of the Saitama Prefecture."

He paused, his eyes narrowing as if replaying the memory in his mind.

"In that match, Isagi wasn't the same player I'd initially observed. He played like a completely different person. His skills, his movements, his decisions—they were on a different level than anything he'd shown before."

Anri tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. 

"What changed?"

Ego leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as his tone grew colder, analytical. 

"At first, I thought his ego—the core of his hunger to score for himself—had been buried under the weight of his coach's idiotic philosophy of 'one for all and all for one.' That nonsense had likely dulled his instincts, forcing him to play in a way that prioritized the team over his own evolution."

He scoffed, the disdain in his voice palpable. "But in that match, something clicked. It was as if Isagi embraced both philosophies—his natural selfishness and that misguided 'teamwork' drivel—to create something entirely new. He fused the two into a style that was uniquely his own, a style that allowed him to dominate while still leveraging the strengths of those around him."

Anri listened intently, her heart racing as Ego's words painted a vivid picture of Isagi's transformation.

"That," 

Ego continued, his voice gaining a sharper edge, 

"was the moment I knew he wasn't just raw material. He was something extraordinary. His ability to evolve, to adapt, to reinvent himself mid-game—that's what makes him different. That's what makes him special."

He leaned back again, his gaze shifting back to the monitor. 

"But even with all that, his rapid physical and technical growth has been... astonishing. I won't deny it. His improvement is beyond anything I could have imagined—far exceeding my expectations. I want you to monitor every test conducted on him closely. We need to understand why his body is evolving at such an extraordinary rate."

Anri nodded, fully grasping the weight of Ego's suggestion. She shared his curiosity, driven not only by intrigue but by concern. If Isagi's remarkable growth was putting undue strain on his body, it could jeopardize everything. And if that were the case, her dream of winning the World Cup would slip further out of reach.

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The Cafeteria

The cafeteria buzzed with subdued chatter as the 29 players, those ranked outside the prestigious Top 6, gathered with their respective groups. The air was thick with anticipation and unease as they sat down for dinner, their minds still reeling from the revelations of the day.

The feats of the Top 3 players' extraordinary abilities had left them all in stunned silence earlier. Now, as if to deepen the impression, they were given access to watch the recorded matches played thus far. It was an opportunity to learn, to study, and—most importantly—to gauge the monumental gap between themselves and the elite players of Blue Lock.

One by one, they watched the matches unfold, their reactions ranging from mild disbelief to outright astonishment. Then came the match between Isagi Yoichi's team and the World 5.

The room fell silent as the screen lit up with the footage. The game was unlike anything they had seen before. The World 5, composed of international prodigies, played with a level of skill that seemed almost alien. Yet, what shocked them most wasn't the dominance of the World 5—it was Isagi Yoichi, the player who stood at the pinnacle of Blue Lock.

Isagi's presence on the field was electrifying. His dribbling was impossibly precise, weaving through defenders with an elegance that seemed effortless. Each movement carried a sense of purpose, as if he saw the game unfolding several steps ahead. His shooting was no less remarkable; every strike was a calculated masterpiece, hitting the net with pinpoint accuracy.

But what truly left the players speechless was his instinct—his uncanny ability to seize opportunities that seemed invisible to everyone else. In a match dominated by raw talent and relentless intensity, Isagi had been the orchestrator, turning the tides at critical moments.

The final moments of the game played out on the screen, Isagi leading his team to a narrow victory against the seemingly insurmountable World 5. The Video Room erupted in murmurs of disbelief, players exchanging wide-eyed glances.

"He's on another level" 

Someone muttered, their voice trembling with awe.

"How… how can someone read the game like that?" 

Another whispered, shaking their head. 

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Isagi stepped into the Medical Department with a steady stride, his expression calm but his mind focused. The familiar antiseptic scent greeted him, blending with the faint hum of advanced machinery. He was guided down the pristine corridors, his escort leading him to a room unlike any he had been in before.

The door slid open to reveal a space that seemed like a cutting-edge evolution of the standard medical facilities. The walls were lined with holographic displays and monitors, each pulsing with streams of data. At the center of the room stood the capsule—a sleek, futuristic machine that commanded attention. Its size and design were intimidating yet fascinating, its surface reflecting the cold fluorescent lights above.

Isagi's eyes fixed on the capsule. He knew exactly what it was for. This wasn't just a health check-up. The capsule was engineered to perform a comprehensive examination of his body, scanning every inch of him. It would reveal the true state of his physique, identifying strengths, weaknesses, and even the hidden potential he had yet to unlock.

From the far side of the room, Anri stepped into view. Her sharp yet delicate features were framed by glasses, and she clutched a tablet that glowed softly in her hands. Her usual composed demeanor was firmly in place, but there was a certain weight to her presence—one that seemed to underscore the significance of the moment.

"Isagi Yoichi," Anri said, her tone even and professional, though there was a faint tremor beneath the surface. "A health check-up will be performed on you now. Remove your clothes and get inside the capsule."

Isagi nodded without hesitation, understanding the necessity of the procedure. His focus remained unwavering as he began removing his training gear. Piece by piece, he stripped down, folding his clothes neatly and placing them aside.

When he stood in just his shorts, Anri's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. She had intended to keep her attention on her tablet, but the sight of Isagi's physique caught her off guard.

He wasn't just athletic—he was a masterpiece of human conditioning. His torso was carved with defined abs that looked as though they had been sculpted from stone. His broad chest tapered into a lean waist, his shoulders and arms exuding power and precision. Every muscle seemed perfectly proportioned, radiating strength and control.

Anri's professional composure began to waver as she watched him step toward the capsule. Her cheeks flushed faintly, a warmth spreading across her face. She tried to focus on the tablet in her hands, but her gaze kept drifting back to him, captivated by the sheer perfection of his form.

For Isagi, the moment passed quickly—just another step toward his goal. For Anri, however, it felt like time slowed to a crawl. Her pulse quickened, and she found herself unable to look away, mesmerized by the effortless confidence he carried as he approached the capsule.

With a steady motion, Isagi climbed into the capsule, his focus unbroken. The faint blush on Anri's cheeks deepened as she glanced away, hoping to regain her composure. She took a deep breath, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.

Anri took slow, deliberate steps toward the capsule, the soft click of her heels echoing in the quiet room. She placed her tablet on the nearby table, its glow casting a faint light across the smooth surface. But her attention wasn't on the tablet anymore.

Her eyes drifted back to Isagi, drawn to him almost involuntarily. From this closer distance, his physique seemed even more striking. His toned muscles, the precise definition of his abs, the broad strength of his chest, and the powerful yet refined structure of his shoulders—all of it came into sharper focus.

Anri's breath caught in her throat as a wave of heat washed over her. She tried to compose herself, reminding herself of her role and the professionalism it demanded. But it was impossible to ignore the sheer magnetism of the young striker standing before her.

Each detail seemed to etch itself into her mind—the smooth contours of his form, the subtle yet visible veins along his forearms, the way his body seemed built for both power and agility. It wasn't just the physical perfection that struck her; it was the quiet confidence that radiated from him.

Anri's cheeks warmed as she realized she had been staring for far too long. She turned her head slightly, as if to check something on the monitors, but the heat in her face betrayed her flustered state. Her heart raced, and she pressed her hands together for a moment, trying to steady herself.

Being this close to him, seeing him not just as an athlete but as a person of remarkable focus and discipline, made her thoughts wander in ways she hadn't expected. She stole another glance at him, and the intensity of her reaction only deepened.

"Um... Is it supposed to close on its own?"

Isagi's voice broke the silence, calm but curious, as he lay inside the capsule. He had closed his eyes after settling in, expecting the process to begin automatically. But when nothing happened, he opened them again and turned his gaze toward Anri.

Anri, lost in her thoughts, flinched at his voice, her composure momentarily slipping. She met his eyes, her mind scrambling for an answer.

"Ah! No," she stammered, her cheeks flushing faintly. "I need to place some straps on you now."

The words escaped her lips before she fully registered them. Strapping him in wasn't her responsibility—it was something the nurses handled during the setup. But in her distracted state, her mouth had spoken before her brain could intervene. Perhaps, deep down, she wanted to be the one to handle it, and that unconscious desire had surfaced without her realizing.

She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as the weight of her impulsive statement sank in.

'This is going to be tough,'

Anri thought, feeling the heat rise to her face again.

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