Chapter 107: Itoshi Sae's Choice
"I am done being the jack of all trades," Reo muttered, his eyes burning with a new, dangerous resolve. "From now on, call me the Invincible All-Rounder."
Without another word, Reo unleashed a shot. Aryu was caught flat-footed; he had not expected anyone to have the guts to pull the trigger from that distance.
"It is off-target! He missed!" Igaguri shouted, his eyes tracking the ball as it sailed high over the crossbar.
"No, wait. Look at that trajectory..." Aryu whispered, his heart skipping a beat.
Further back, Yukimiya's face was painted with shock. 'Is he... is he copying me?'
Just as the ball reached its peak, it died. The momentum vanished, and it began a violent, vertical plunge toward the net. It was a perfect replica of Yukimiya's signature move.
A Gyro Shot!
Nagi's expression finally shifted as he watched the ball descend. 'Reo? He is actually evolving.'
***
Audiovisual Room.
Isagi let out a sharp breath. "Incredible. He really did it."
Seeing Kira's dominance had triggered something in Reo. He had found his own way to stay in the game: by becoming a mirror that reflected the best weapons on the pitch.
"Whoa, if he can just copy anyone's moves, he is basically invincible!" Nanase said, feeling a twinge of jealousy. 'Why does everyone have a special move except me?'
"Not quite," Hiori countered, his analytical mind already dissecting the play. "No matter how perfect the imitation, it is still only a 99% copy. If he goes head to head with the 100% original, he will lose every time."
Hiori's voice trailed off as the screen showed a blur of motion.
Just as the ball was about to cross the line, a shadow exploded across the goal mouth.
It was Kira!
His eyes glowing with the dark static of the FLOW state. With total composure, he met the falling ball with a mid-air clearance, booting it out of the danger zone before it could even touch the netting.
"He is too fast! Kira was just marking Otoya on the wing a second ago!" Isagi shouted, slamming his hand against the floor.
***
On the pitch, Reo felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. The celebration that had been building in his chest died instantly.
'How? Unless he knew the exact moment I was going to shoot... unless he predicted my evolution before I even finished the motion...'
Reo felt a chill. Kira was not just playing a different game; he was playing in a different timeline. The gap between them felt like an uncrossable chasm. Reo's eyes dimmed, the weight of Kira's existence crushing his newfound confidence.
"Shidou! Get moving!" Kira roared, his voice cutting through the air.
"Yes, SIR!"
Kira's clearance was not just a defensive move; it was a surgical long ball that traveled half the length of the pitch. Even on a mini-field, the precision required to turn a clearance into a lead-pass was insane.
Yukimiya sprinted back, his lungs burning, but he already knew he was too late.
Shidou received the ball and went into full Mad Dog Mode. Ishikari, the towering defender, moved like a rusty tank compared to Shidou's predatory speed. Shidou toyed with him for a few seconds before slamming the ball home.
4-2.
Team C went silent. The spirit was gone. They could feel the weight of the scoreboard, and more importantly, the weight of the monsters they were facing.
Yukimiya tried to rally the troops, but even Otoya, the Top 5, looked like he had checked out. The game was over.
In the final moments, Igaguri sent a desperate, ridiculous cross into the box. It should have been an easy interception, but Kira snatched it out of the air. Mimicking Shidou's own chaotic style, Kira contorted his body into a mid-air pretzel and fired a final, humiliating shot into the net.
Final score: 5-2. Team A2 wins.
"YES! Another easy ride on the win-train!" Igaguri shouted, rolling around on the grass in pure, unadulterated joy.
***
Kira let out a long, hot breath. His FLOW state was still humming, his heart hammering against his ribs. He had lost all track of time during the match, completely submerged in the rhythm of the game. But as the whistle blew, he felt a strange sense of dissatisfaction.
The match had ended before he was finished. He still had more to give, and his opponents had folded too soon. He turned his gaze toward Shidou, who was stretching lazily nearby.
"Shidou. We are not done. Get to the training room."
"Huh?" Shidou blinked. Even for a football obsessive like him, two back-to-back matches were draining. "Kira-chan, the game is over. I'm beat."
"Shut up and move. I'm not wasting this high. To the training room. Now."
Kira's eyes were cold and demanding. Shidou pouted but eventually gave in. He knew better than to argue with a striker in the zone.
"Igaguri, you're on ball-boy duty. Pick up the pace."
"Wait, me?!" Igaguri's face paled. One look at Kira's expression told him that saying 'no' would be a very bad idea for his health. "Right! On it! Let's go!"
Yukimiya watched them leave, his expression darkening. 'What is that guy's problem? Is he saying we weren't even worth a warm-up?'
Otoya just stayed flat on the grass. "I'm done. Nobody talk to me for an hour."
***
Reo sat on the turf, his jersey soaked with sweat. He had given everything, and he had not even managed to touch Kira's shadow.
"Reo. Hey."
Reo looked up. His face lit up for a fraction of a second before he masked it with a cold, distant expression. "Oh. Nagi."
"That shot you took... it was actually pretty cool," Nagi said, offering a rare, genuine compliment.
"Whatever. Cool doesn't win games. I still lost," Reo snapped.
"You saw a move and copied it instantly. It was very 'you.' I thought it was interesting," Nagi continued, pausing for a moment. "But you are still a long way off from the kind of football I'm looking for."
The honesty hit Reo like a knife. He watched as Nagi turned to leave.
"Wait, Nagi!"
Nagi stopped but did not turn around.
"Go ahead. Keep going. I'll see you at the top," Reo said, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and resolve.
"Okay," Nagi replied, the simple answer echoing as he walked away.
Reo gripped the grass so hard his knuckles turned white. 'Just watch me, Nagi. I am going to become the person you can't live without.'
***
Outside the Blue Lock facility.
JFU Headquarters.
"I understand, Mr. President. Everything is for the future of Japanese football."
The man speaking was Hoichi, the head coach of the Japan U-20 National Team. In the media, they called him 'Hoichi the Earless' because he did nothing but bow to the whims of the federation. Currently, he was nodding submissively toward the bald President sitting across from him.
"Good. You understand the objective," the President said, a predatory, corporate smile on his face.
Hoichi gave a knowing smirk. "Of course. Bringing a world-class talent like Itoshi Sae into the U-20 squad is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You want to turn this match into a massive media event, a goldmine for the federation. Am I right?"
"Hoichi, don't be so crass," the President teased.
"My apologies, sir. What I meant to say was: we are providing the people of Japan with a legendary spectacle. I'm a simple coach, sometimes I lack the words."
"You're a quick study, Hoichi. Play your cards right, and there will be plenty of room for you at the top of the corporate ladder. Do you follow?"
"Perfectly, sir..."
The door to the conference room swung open with a bang.
"Sae-kun! Wait! You can't just go in there!" Sae's agent shouted, looking panicked as he followed the teenager into the room.
Itoshi Sae walked in like he owned the building, his expression one of bored arrogance.
"Itoshi Sae! Welcome," the President said, his tone shifting instantly from cold executive to fawning fan. He stood up immediately. "If you needed something, you could have just sent your agent. There was no need to come down here yourself."
Sae ignored the pleasantries and waved a hand dismissively. "I watched the tapes of your U-20 strikers. They're garbage. Total hacks."
The President blinked. "Well... what kind of striker were you looking for? I can pull a player from anywhere. Domestic, international—just give me a name."
"I watched the footage from that Blue Lock place," Sae said, his eyes narrowing. "There is one striker who caught my eye. I want to play with him."
"Oh? And who might that be?" The President was stunned. He hadn't expected someone like Sae to find anyone of value in a domestic youth program.
"His name is Ryosuke Kira."