Chapter 54 : The Big'Ol Yapping
"First, our top player—Isagi Yoichi."
Ego's voice rang through the room, cutting through the heavy atmosphere. The large screen behind him flickered to life, displaying Isagi's face in a cartoonish, stylized doodle. Beneath the doodle, his name was written in bold, confident strokes, while two letters—CF—were displayed prominently above it, marking his position as Center Forward.
A murmur rippled through the room, though none dared to speak too loudly. All eyes were on Isagi, who stood at the center of the Top 6, his expression calm but brimming with an unmistakable fire. The weight of his selection wasn't a surprise, yet it still carried a gravity that even he couldn't entirely ignore.
"As the top scorer,"
Ego continued, his tone sharp and commanding,
"with an average of 3.25 goals per match, Isagi will be the crux of this team. Everything begins and ends with him."
Ego's hand moved deftly across his tablet, and the screen behind him transformed, now displaying a holographic football pitch. A glowing hologram of Isagi materialized in the center of the field, occupying the CF position. The light from the display cast a faint glow over the room, illuminating the focused faces of the players.
"We'll be using a specialized attack-heavy formation,"
Ego explained, his finger tracing lines across the holographic pitch, illustrating the team's offensive setup.
"Our strategy is simple: if the other team scores five goals, you win by scoring six. For a team made entirely of strikers, there is no other means of victory."
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. The players standing behind Isagi exchanged tense glances, the reality of Blue Lock's philosophy pressing down on them like a vice. For those chosen, it was a moment of validation. For those still waiting, it was agony.
Ego's sharp eyes landed on Isagi once more, his gaze piercing.
"Your abilities have proven reliable in every position—forward, midfield, and even defense. But it's not versatility we're looking for here."
He adjusted the tablet in his hands, flipping it horizontally, and the holographic field zoomed in on Isagi's position, his hologram glowing even brighter.
"It's up to you"
Ego declared, his voice resonating with authority,
"to embody the theme of Blue Lock as its vanguard—successive destruction. You're not just the spearhead of this team; you're the embodiment of our philosophy. Every goal you score is a step toward obliterating Japan's outdated football system and proving the worth of Blue Lock to the world."
The weight of Ego's words hung in the air like a thundercloud. Isagi stood unmoving, his gaze locked on the glowing hologram of himself on the screen. The room was silent, every player hanging on Ego's every word, every gesture.
Ego took a step back, letting the image of Isagi dominate the screen.
"Fail, and you're nothing. Succeed, and you'll lead this team to victory—and the future of Japanese football."
Ego's sharp gaze scanned the room as he continued, his tone as commanding as ever.
"The remaining ten players I announce will act as bullets—tools to facilitate and escalate the destruction on the field."
He raised his tablet again, tapping on the screen.
"First, the Goalkeeper. Gagamaru Gin."
The screen behind him displayed Gagamaru's stylized doodle, with "GK" marked prominently above it.
"Whoa... Me?"
Gagamaru's voice broke the silence, his surprise evident. His wide eyes darted between the screen and Ego, disbelief coloring his tone. "Goalkeeper? Really?"
Ego's cold gaze snapped toward him, silencing any further comment.
"Your flexibility, your explosive reaction speed, and your prior experience as a goalkeeper from the First Selection make you the most suitable for this position. You will be this team's guardian."
Gagamaru straightened slightly, his surprise giving way to a determined nod.
"Understood."
Ego's finger flicked across the tablet once more.
"Next, Aryu Jubei and Niko Ikki."
The screen updated to show their respective doodles, with CB marked above them.
"Aryu, as the Right Center Back, your height and reach make you a formidable defender in aerial battles. You'll be the team's wall when it comes to high balls."
Aryu flipped his hair dramatically, his voice as flamboyant as ever.
"Ah, such a beautiful responsibility. I accept!"
Ego ignored him and moved on.
"Niko, as the Left Center Back, your intellect and ability to read the field make you ideal for intercepting plays and stealing the ball at critical moments. Your role is to disrupt their flow."
Niko gave a quiet nod.
Ego's gaze swept back to the tablet.
"Now, for the ones who will control the sides with their speed and technique."
The screen shifted again.
"At Right Back—Chigiri Hyoma."
Chigiri's doodle appeared with RWB above it, and his face lit up with a confident smile.
"Yes, sir!" he said, his tone sharp and enthusiastic.
"And at Left Back—Bachira Meguru."
Bachira's doodle popped up with LWB above it, a mischievous grin drawn on it.
"Well,"
Bachira said with a shrug,
"whichever position I'm in, I'm still gonna score."
"Next,"
Ego continued,
"Karasu Tabito."
The screen shifted once more, displaying Karasu's doodle with CDM above it.
"With the second-best ball-keeping ability in Blue Lock and your unparalleled analytical power to spot goal opportunities, you will be this team's heart. Your role is to connect the front and backlines seamlessly while creating chances to escalate our attack."
Karasu clicked his tongue, crossing his arms with a sharp glare.
"Tch, had a feeling you'd say that, ya jerk."
The tension in the room didn't waver, but a slight ripple of amusement spread among the players. Ego, of course, paid it no mind as he continued his announcements.
"Now, for the offensive line," he began,
"First, the ones who will slice apart the enemy's walls from the outside—the wingers."
With a tap on his tablet, the screen behind him displayed two new doodles.
"Otoya Eita and Yukimiya Kenyu."
Otoya's doodle was labeled RW for Right Wing, and Yukimiya's was marked LW for Left Wing. Both players stepped forward slightly, their reactions casual but distinct.
Otoya's tone light and confident.
"Kay."
Yukimiya, meanwhile, exhaled softly, relief washing over his features. He had been uncertain about his place in the lineup, but his selection had erased that doubt.
"I won't waste this chance," he muttered under his breath, his eyes focused.
Ego's cold eyes flicked between the two before continuing.
"On the right wing, Otoya—a swift shadow who can slip in behind the opponents' defenses unnoticed. Your agility and stealth make you an invaluable threat on the flank."
Otoya's smirk widened, his confidence unshaken.
"And on the left wing, Yukimiya—a presence with exceptional one-on-one abilities and speed. Your skill set is perfect for creating chaos on the edge and breaking through the opposition's defensive lines."
Yukimiya straightened his posture, nodding firmly.
"Understood."
Ego's piercing gaze swept over the room as he prepared to announce the final two pieces of the lineup. The tension in the air was palpable, every player holding their breath, awaiting the final verdict.
"And finally,"
Ego began, his voice steady and commanding,
"Encamped between them are the two players who will form the nucleus of our attacks."
With a tap on his tablet, the screen displayed the central attacking midfield positions, labeled OMF.
"First,"
Ego continued,
"with superb ball handling, goals that defy common sense, and a magnificent talent: Seishiro Nagi."
The screen lit up with Nagi's doodle, showing his position as OMF.
Nagi responded in his usual nonchalant manner, running a hand through his hair.
"Gotcha"
He said lazily, as though the announcement was expected all along.
Ego ignored Nagi's casual demeanor and pressed on, his tone sharpening as he moved to the final announcement.
"And I'll say it again: this team uses a specialized attack-heavy formation centered around Isagi Yoichi. In other words, his teammates must be able to elevate Isagi's performance to its maximum potential."
His eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed the room, zeroing in on one player.
"Out of all the players here, only one made Isagi Yoichi enjoy football more than ever—so much so that Isagi improved at an exponential rate during their match, maximizing his existing talents. That one player scored a goal in such a way that it forced Isagi to evolve his style, daring to challenge his limits."
Ego paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before delivering the final blow.
"Isagi Yoichi's optimal partner... The last piece of this team... is you,
Rin Itoshi."
All eyes turned to Rin as his name and position, OMF appeared on the screen.
Rin stood silent, his calm exterior masking the irritation bubbling beneath. He had expected to make the team—there was no doubt in his mind—but being labeled as Isagi's "partner" grated on him. His jaw tightened briefly, but he maintained his composure, his teal eyes locking with Ego's in defiance.
Ego's gaze remained cold and calculating, as if daring Rin to challenge the truth of his words.
"You know your achievements well, Rin,"
Ego said, his voice like a blade cutting through the room.
"You're here because of your undeniable skill and because you bring out something in Isagi that no one else can. But don't misunderstand me—your role isn't just to assist. You're here to score, to dismantle the opposition, and to push Isagi beyond his current limits."
Rin's expression didn't waver, but his thoughts churned. He clenched his fists at his sides, his resolve hardening.
'If that's what it takes, then so be it.'
As Ego turned his attention back to the rest of the players, Rin's expression turned more serious than ever, his eyes burned with determination.
'I'll use this opportunity to crush Isagi. I'll prove that I'm not just his partner—I'm his superior. I'll score goals that will outshine his, and I'll reclaim the top spot.'
Ego's voice rang out once more, cutting through Rin's thoughts.
"With this, the Blue Lock Eleven is complete. Each of you has been chosen not just for your skills, but for how you'll function as part of this formation. Now, it's time to sharpen yourselves further. The U-20 match awaits, and the world will witness the birth of true strikers."
With the lineup announcement concluded, the room was left in a charged silence. The players who didn't make it onto the Blue Lock Eleven stood in the shadows, their emotions simmering beneath the surface. Some were visibly frustrated, fists clenched and teeth grinding as they wrestled with their disappointment. Others, who hadn't harbored high hopes to begin with, lingered quietly at the edges, accepting their fate without a word.
However, those who believed they had what it took to stand on the grand stage refused to take the news lightly. Among them was Barou Shoei. He stood tall, his presence imposing even in defeat, but his frustration was evident in the way his jaw tightened and his crimson eyes burned with quiet fury. Barou didn't need to shout or throw a tantrum—his sheer aura conveyed the depth of his resentment.
Shidou Ryusei, on the other hand, wasn't one to swallow his emotions. His frustration erupted almost immediately, the words spilling out of his mouth like a volcanic explosion.
"Oi! Four-Eyes!"
Shidou growled, his golden eyes glinting with fury.
"If this is some kind of joke, take it back already!"
The room seemed to hold its breath as Shidou's voice echoed off the walls. His irritation was palpable, his body trembling with the effort to contain his anger.
Ego Jinpachi, as always, remained unbothered. He adjusted his glasses with deliberate calm, his sharp gaze piercing through Shidou's outburst like a knife.
"It's no joke,"
Ego replied coolly, his tone carrying an almost mocking finality.
"You're not in the lineup."
Shidou's jaw dropped, his rage bubbling over as he slammed a fist into the table nearest to him.
"Hah?! What kind of bullshit is that?!"
Ego didn't flinch. Instead, he continued, his voice unwavering.
"Let me make this crystal clear, Shidou Ryusei. Your goals—while impressive—are a product of your individual talent alone. You've relied entirely on your personal skills to score, and the only player you've managed to form a Chemical Reaction with is Isagi Yoichi."
At the mention of Isagi, Shidou's face twisted into a mixture of irritation and begrudging acknowledgment.
Ego pressed on, his tone turning sharper.
"Furthermore, your reckless, violent behavior throughout the tryout matches is a liability. Were it not for Isagi Yoichi repeatedly reining you in, your actions would have earned you red cards and left your team at an overwhelming disadvantage. This isn't street football, Shidou. On the international stage, undisciplined chaos has no place."
Shidou growled, his fists tightening, but Ego wasn't finished.
"However,"
Ego said, his sharp gaze narrowing,
"your destructive playstyle is not without merit. Your ability to dismantle defensive formations single-handedly makes you a unique weapon. For that reason, I intend to use you as a Joker Card—a player who can be subbed in when the team encounters a critical dilemma. You'll replace Nagi Seishiro when we need to turn the tide with chaos and unpredictability.
That was my intent."
The room held its breath again as Shidou processed Ego's words. His expression was a mix of frustration, pride, and confusion. But Ego wasn't done yet.
"But just after finalizing this lineup, I received a call,"
Ego said, his tone suddenly tinged with intrigue. He glanced down at his tablet, tapping it lightly as though recalling the conversation.
"The call was from the president of the JFU."
Shidou's irritation simmered as he tilted his head, his wild grin returning.
"Tch. What now?"
Ego smirked, his expression sharp as a blade.
"The president informed me that Sae Itoshi—the so-called prodigy of Japanese football—is dissatisfied with the strikers on the U-20 team. Sae Itoshi doesn't believe they're capable of meeting his standards. He doesn't want teammates—he wants tools that will allow him to dominate on the field. And the JFU, desperate to appease their golden child, decided to… make accommodations."
Shidou's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding audibly.
"Tch. So what? You're saying Sae's complaints have something to do with me being benched?"
Ego's smirk deepened, his sharp gaze locking onto Shidou.
"Not directly. But here's where things get interesting. The JFU proposed that Sae himself handpick a striker to add to the U-20 roster. And guess who he chose?"
A ripple of shock swept through the room.
Ego didn't leave them waiting.
"Sae Itoshi chose you, Shidou Ryusei."
The room exploded. Gasps, incredulous laughter, and whispers filled the space as all eyes turned to Shidou, whose expression flickered between surprise and smug satisfaction.
"Me, huh?"
Shidou finally said, a wild grin spreading across his face. He ran a hand through his messy blond hair, his eyes gleaming with renewed energy.
"Guess the big-shot recognizes talent when he sees it."
Ego, unimpressed by Shidou's cockiness, continued in his sharp, unrelenting tone.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Shidou. This isn't a compliment—it's a challenge. Sae sees your potential as a striker who thrives on chaos and destruction. But his reasons for choosing you are as self-serving as they are strategic. He doesn't want someone who will compete with him for the spotlight—he wants someone who will amplify his own performance."
Shidou tilted his head, his grin unwavering.
"And? Sounds like a win-win to me. So what's the deal, Four-Eyes? You gonna ship me off to Sae's team or what?"
Ego, entirely unfazed by Shidou's wild grin and abrasive words, adjusted his glasses with deliberate calm. His expression didn't waver as he began speaking, his tone razor-sharp and calculated.
"Yes, Shidou Ryusei"
Ego said, his voice slicing through the murmurs in the room,
"I've agreed to these conditions because, quite frankly, they align with my plans."
Before anyone could react, the sound of a mechanical whirr filled the room. All heads turned toward the corner, where a door slowly slid open with a soft hiss. The doorway revealed a corridor bathed in cold, sterile light, and the unmistakable shadow of an approaching figure loomed just beyond the threshold.
Ego gestured toward the door with a flick of his wrist, his eyes locking onto Shidou with an almost mocking indifference.
"Now," he said smoothly,
"you are supposed to be shipped from here."
Shidou tilted his head, his grin widening into something almost feral.
"Shipped, huh? What am I, cargo?"
Ego ignored the jab, continuing as if Shidou's outburst were nothing more than background noise.
"Consider this an opportunity, Shidou. Sae Itoshi has chosen you for his little U-20 experiment, and the JFU expects you to board the plane immediately. I've made arrangements for your transfer to their training facility. It's out of my hands now—temporarily, at least."
The rest of the room watched in stunned silence. Some players were visibly confused, others concerned, while a few looked toward Shidou with a mix of curiosity and unease.
Shidou ran a hand through his wild blonde hair, his golden eyes gleaming with chaotic excitement.
"Tch. Sounds fun. Fine, I'll play along—for now. But don't think I'm gonna be anyone's tool, not even Sae Itoshi's. I'm gonna light up the pitch and show everyone what I can do."
Ego's lips curled into the faintest hint of a smirk.
"Do as you please, Shidou Ryusei. Whether you succeed or implode, you'll still be proof of Blue Lock's superiority. But remember this: no matter how far you go with the U-20 team, you're still a product of my creation."
With that, Shidou's grin only grew wider. He turned on his heel, heading toward the open door with a cocky swagger.
"Don't worry, Four-Eyes. I'll show you the kind of destruction only I can bring. Keep your eyes on me."
The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. The echo of Shidou's footsteps had long faded, leaving behind an uneasy stillness that seemed to settle over every player. Ego stood motionless, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Good,"
Ego said, his voice slicing through the silence like a scalpel.
"Now that the chaos incarnate has been removed from this equation, we can focus on the ones who actually matter. Let me be clear—Shidou Ryusei is no loss to this room. If anything, his absence simplifies things. But don't think for a second that this means any of you are worth celebrating."
He adjusted his glasses, the cold glint of the lenses matching the disdain in his tone.
"Each of you sitting here is still incomplete—an embarrassing display of potential unrealized. Your playstyles are flawed, your instincts dull, and your mentality weak. Frankly, the fact that any of you think you deserve to be on the field is laughable."
The players bristled at his words, some glaring at the floor, others clenching their fists in silent frustration. But none dared to speak. Ego's sharp tongue was as much a weapon as any skill on the pitch, and tonight, he wielded it without mercy.
"Do you think the world cares about your excuses?"
Ego sneered.
"Do you think your opponents will care that you're tired, that you're struggling, that you're afraid? No. The world only cares about results. About goals. About victory. And right now, only a few of you have proven that you can deliver."
He let the words hang in the air, their weight pressing down on the room like a suffocating fog. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tapped on his tablet, and a massive screen lit up behind him, displaying a meticulously detailed training schedule.
"Over the next two weeks, you will undergo the most grueling, intense, and unforgiving training of your lives,"
Ego announced, his voice cold and unrelenting.
"This schedule is not designed to improve your skills—it is designed to break you. To strip away every weakness, every hesitation, every ounce of fear that holds you back. Because when you step onto that field against the U-20 team, there will be no room for hesitation. No margin for error. You will either rise to the occasion or be crushed beneath it."
"Now," Ego said, his voice rising with finality,
"get up. The training starts now. Not tomorrow. Not in an hour. Now. Because the world won't wait for you to be ready. And neither will I."
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Blue Lock Meeting Room
The room was dimly lit, a single spotlight casting a cold, sterile glow over Ego Jinpachi, who stood at the center like a maestro preparing to conduct a symphony. The tension in the room was palpable, each player seated in rapt silence, their faces a mixture of curiosity and exhaustion after an already eventful day.
Ego's voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding as always.
"Tonight, I will introduce you to a concept that separates the average from the extraordinary, the good from the untouchable. Many athletes call it the Zone. But here, in Blue Lock, we call it Flow."
"Flow,"
Ego continued, his tone laced with clinical precision,
"is a state of absolute immersion. In this state, your mind and body operate as one seamless entity, allowing you to perform at a level that surpasses your conscious capabilities. Everything slows down. Decisions become instinctual. You stop thinking—and start acting."
The players leaned forward, their eyes glued to the screens as Ego dissected the visuals with surgical clarity.
"But let me make one thing clear," he said, adjusting his glasses with a glint of menace.
"Flow is not some mystical gift bestowed upon the chosen few. It is a weapon—a weapon you must forge and wield deliberately."
A wave of intrigue rippled through the room. Ego raised a hand, silencing the unspoken questions.
"To enter Flow, several conditions must be met. First, you must have a clear and specific goal—whether it's scoring a goal, breaking through a defensive line, or intercepting a pass. Without a target, Flow cannot manifest."
Ego continued, his voice unwavering.
"Second, the challenge you face must match your skills. If the task is too easy, you become bored. If it's too difficult, you become anxious. But when challenge and skill align perfectly—"
He paused, his eyes narrowing.
"—that is when Flow becomes accessible."
"Third,"
Ego said, his tone dropping to a near-whisper that made every player strain to hear,
"you must eliminate all distractions. Flow requires total focus. Your mind cannot wander—not to fear, not to doubt, not to anything outside the pitch. In Flow, there is no past, no future. There is only the now."
The room seemed to shrink as the weight of Ego's words settled over them. He paced slowly, his sharp gaze slicing through the players.
"Lastly, and most importantly, Flow demands that you embrace risk. To reach your peak, you must push beyond your limits. You must dance on the edge of failure. Only then can you discover the true extent of your abilities."
Ego stopped in his tracks, turning to face the players with a ferocity that seemed to radiate from his very being.
"Flow is not a state you stumble into. It is a battlefield, and only those with the courage to fight their inner doubts can claim victory. You are here in Blue Lock to become strikers who can dominate the world. And Flow—"
He smirked, the corners of his mouth curling upward in a sinister arc.
"—is the key to your domination."
Ego's voice broke the silence one last time.
"Over the next two weeks, your training will be designed to push you into Flow. You will face challenges that force you to clarify your goals, align your skills with the task at hand, and risk everything to achieve victory. Fail, and you will remain mediocre. Succeed, and you will transcend."
Without waiting for questions, Ego turned on his heel and walked toward the exit.
"Dismissed," he said curtly, his words echoing in the charged air.
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[A/N]: Hey everyone! 🚨 Chapter 55 is officially FREE to read over on my Pa7r30n right now! 🎉
If you're loving the Blue Lock match and want to get a head start, Chapter 58 is already up and running! 🏃♂️💨 The intensity is building, the U-20 match is in full swing, and you won't want to miss how the tension escalates. Trust me, things are about to get CRAZY! 😱
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