Chapter 62: Defeat, Adjustment Again
⸻
Blue Lock Pitch – Final Minutes
Drop!
The sharp whistle split the air—kickoff resumed.
Yūshin Zeya charged forward like a thunderbolt, the ball glued to his feet. Lightning crackled in his golden eyes.
Behind him, Yūshin Seiichi followed like a phantom. Silent. Furious. Focused.
"Kill you… kill you…"
A mantra whispered in his mind. Nothing else existed. Only Zeya.
One in red. One in white.
Two streaks of ego. Flames on the pitch.
Even the other players hesitated, almost frozen.
"What… is this pressure…?"
Isagi Yoichi whispered, sweat running down his face.
This is what it means to fight for No.1…
"Don't worry, I'll help you, Seiichi!"
Kuon Wataru suddenly charged in from the right flank.
"Kuon, wait—!"
Too late.
TAP.
Zeya chipped the ball up gently—over Kuon's momentum—and used him as a shield to shake off Seiichi.
"Damn it, Kuon!"
Seiichi cursed, shoving Kuon aside to continue pursuit.
Kuon blinked in shock.
"What just happened…?"
Zeya was already gone.
He rocketed through midfield, dropped a sharp shoulder to knock Shidō off balance, then glided past him like flowing water.
"Oi! I like that!"
Shidō laughed maniacally. "COME BACK HERE!"
Zeya didn't even glance back.
Now it was down to Isagi.
I can't stop him alone. But I can delay…
He adjusted. Shifted his body to show Zeya the right side—intentionally baiting him.
Zeya took the path.
"Got you!"
From behind—
WHOOSH!
Seiichi reappeared like a bullet.
Zeya anticipated.
Fake shot. Step spike. Angle change.
BOOM!
Seiichi twisted and launched his leg across the lane. The ball deflected—hard—off his shin.
BANG!
It slammed into the post and bounced into open space—
Right to Itoshi Rin.
"…Tch."
Rin didn't hesitate.
One touch.
Volley.
BAM!
Net.
FINAL SCORE:
Red Team: 5 – White Team: 3
⸻
"DAMN IT!!"
Isagi slammed his fists into the grass.
We read him. We trapped him. And we STILL lost?!
Seiichi knelt in the box, his head down, breath heavy. Defeat wrapped around him like chains.
Across the field, Zeya stood still—chest rising, soaked in sweat. Legs shaking.
But his eyes were still sharp.
He walked slowly toward Seiichi.
"…Seiichi."
His voice wasn't mocking. It wasn't cold.
It was just real.
Then he turned.
"Let's go."
The corridor doors opened with a mechanical click.
Zeya walked away.
Seiichi stayed kneeling.
⸻
Observation Room – Audiovisual Booth
The non-selected players had watched every second.
"Yo… that was insane…"
"They're monsters."
"Zeya carried that whole second half."
"Nah, it was all three—Rin, Seiichi, Zeya."
"I don't even know if I belong on the same pitch…"
The murmurs stopped as Ego Jinpachi appeared onscreen.
"Ahem. Attention, rough stones."
Everyone froze.
Ego adjusted his glasses, eyes cold and sharp.
"Due to unexpected circumstances, Yūshin Zeya has been officially recruited by Japan's U-20 National Team."
BOOM.
The room erupted.
"WHAT!?"
"NO WAY!"
"He's going to the enemy?!"
"Our No.1?! He was supposed to LEAD us!"
"Man…"
Bachira groaned, hands on his head.
"That's like tag where the fastest guy switches sides."
"I wanted to beat him," Chigiri muttered, teeth clenched.
"Not watch him leave."
⸻
Ego's Cold Command
"The details don't concern you."
Ego's tone was steel.
"Blue Lock has no center. No irreplaceable ace.
Here, you eat or you're eaten."
"If Zeya's gone—replace him."
The silence was thick.
Then—
"HELL YEAH!!"
Shidō grinned wide.
"Let him run. Now I get to CRUSH him on the biggest stage."
"I'll step past him," Karasu said calmly.
"I'll twist his golden hair like soba noodles," Shidō added.
Karasu blinked.
"You're a freak."
⸻
Adjustment Update
Ego continued:
"Rin Itoshi is now Rank #1."
"Group A: Rin & Seiichi."
"Group B: Shidō & Karasu."
"Group C: Otoya & Nagi."
"Due to Zeya's departure, we now have 28 players.
So two of you will play in two matches."
"The selected players are…"
Rank #7: Yukimiya kenyū
Rank #8: Isagi Yoichi
⸻
Locker Room
Isagi stared at the mirror, still catching his breath.
"…Top 8?"
He didn't smile.
He didn't panic.
He clenched his fist.
"I'm not done."
"I'm not done yet."