Chapter 13: The King's Opening Move
The walk to the pitch for the first match of the First Selection felt like a march toward an execution. The tunnel was cold, the concrete floor magnifying the rhythmic clack-clack of their cleats.
Igarashi was hyperventilating, his lips moving in silent prayer. Raichi was a vibrating mess of aggressive energy, and Isagi was pale, his eyes darting toward the light at the end of the tunnel.
Eshan walked in the middle of the pack. His heart rate was a steady 60 beats per minute. For seven years, he had lived for this transition—from the private garden of his rebirth to the public stage of Blue Lock. As they stepped onto the turf, his Absolute Field Awareness flared to life. It wasn't a conscious effort; it was as if the stadium itself had plugged into his brain. He felt the humidity, the exact distance to the corner flags, and the heavy, oppressive presence of the eleven boys in red jerseys waiting for them.
At the center circle stood Barou Shouei.
He didn't look like a student. He looked like a force of nature. His aura was so thick with ego that it felt like the air around him was physically heavier. He didn't look at Team Z; he looked through them.
"Trash," Barou muttered as they lined up. The word wasn't an insult; it was a clinical diagnosis.
Eshan met Barou's gaze. He didn't look away, and he didn't glare. He simply analyzed. High center of gravity. Over-developed quadriceps. He relies on a 28-yard radius for his 'Golden Zone'. Eshan's mind clicked into a calm, sharp gear. He's a King because no one has ever forced him to be a servant. Let's see how he handles the silence.
The Kick-Off: The Death of Logic
The whistle blew—a sharp, piercing scream that signaled the start of the "slaughter."
Team Z started with the ball. Kunigami tapped it to Isagi, and for exactly five seconds, the "All-Hands Strike" plan existed. But the moment a Team X defender stepped forward with a snarl, the fragile "teamwork" of Team Z evaporated.
"Move, Isagi! My turn!" Raichi roared.
Raichi, the designated Center Back, sprinted past the midfield. He didn't care about the defense; he only cared about his ten minutes of fame. Seeing him move, Igarashi and Naruhaya panicked—if they didn't get the ball now, they might never get it.
"Wait! The formation!" Kuon screamed, but his voice was drowned out by the chaos.
Within a minute, Team Z had become a swarm. Eleven white jerseys were chasing the ball like toddlers in a park. It was the "Zero" that Ego had warned them about—a collection of egos so unrefined that they effectively neutralized each other.
Eshan stayed on the right wing. He didn't join the swarm. He watched as Raichi tripped over Igarashi, and the ball was poked away by a Team X midfielder.
"Counter!"
The ball was launched high and deep—a 50-yard bomb aimed directly at Barou Shouei. Eshan watched its flight path. Heavy backspin. 45-degree arc. Landing point: three meters ahead of Barou.
Barou exploded into motion. He didn't just run; he cleared a path. He shoved Igarashi aside with a single arm, sending the boy sprawling. He trapped the ball on his chest with a dull thud that echoed through the stadium.
Barou began his charge. He was a bulldozer in red. He sidestepped a desperate lunge from Naruhaya and shoulder-checked Kuon so hard the boy nearly did a backflip.
Only Eshan was left.
Eshan didn't rush in for a tackle. He knew Barou wanted contact; Barou thrived on overpowering people. Instead, Eshan lowered his center of gravity, utilizing his Absolute Balance. He waited until Barou was three feet away, the King's eyes locked onto the goal.
Barou dropped his shoulder, a "Power Dribble" meant to flatten Eshan.
Eshan didn't move against him. He used a Phantom Pocket Shift. At the exact millisecond of impact, Eshan stepped laterally, disappearing from Barou's direct line of sight. Barou's shoulder hit nothing but thin air. The sudden lack of resistance caused the King's balance to waver for a fraction of a second.
In that window of instability, Eshan reached in.
Ghost Touch.
His laces whispered against the ball, redirecting its momentum with a touch so light it was almost invisible. He didn't "steal" the ball; he simply convinced it to change direction.
By the time Barou realized he was empty-handed, Eshan was already turning the other way, the ball seemingly magnetized to his foot.
"What!?" Barou's voice was a guttural growl of pure shock. "You... you rat!"
Eshan didn't launch a counter-attack. He looked at his team and saw a disaster. Raichi was already running back, but he wasn't looking to defend—he was looking to take the ball from Eshan.
"Pass it here, Rank 290! I'm the one who's supposed to score!" Raichi screamed.
Eshan saw the Team X defenders closing the lanes. A pass to Raichi was a certain turnover. He ignored the shouting, using his Absolute Ball Feel to navigate through two Team X midfielders. He moved with a relaxed, upright posture, making the defenders look like they were moving through deep mud.
Calibration complete, Eshan thought. The opponents are predictable. The only variable is the incompetence of my own team.
He sent a crisp, line-breaking pass to Isagi, who was standing in the only logical pocket of space. "Isagi! Reset the play!"
Isagi caught the ball, but he was frozen. He could hear Raichi screaming, he could see Barou charging back like a demon, and the pressure of the moment snapped his focus.
"I... I..." Isagi hesitated.
In that moment of doubt, Barou arrived. He didn't play for the ball; he played for the body. He slammed into Isagi, sending him tumbling, and reclaimed the ball with a violent flick of his ankle.
"This is my kingdom!" Barou roared.
He didn't pass. He didn't look at his teammates. He took one heavy touch to the right, creating a sliver of space, and let let loose a strike from 28 yards out.
BOOM.
The sound was like a cannon shot. The ball tore through the air, past Iemon's desperate, reaching fingers, and nearly ripped the net off the frame.
Team Z: 0 | Team X: 1
The scoreboard flickered. The "fairness" of Team Z was dead.
Raichi ran straight to Isagi and grabbed him by the collar. "You useless piece of trash! Why didn't you pass to me? You're the reason they scored!"
"I... I was trying to find an opening!" Isagi stammered, his voice breaking.
Eshan stood ten yards away, his hands on his hips. He looked at the scoreboard, then at his bickering teammates. The match was fifteen minutes in, and Team Z was already tearing itself apart.
The slaughter has officially begun, Eshan thought, his eyes narrowing. Time to see who survives the noise.