THREE DAYS LATER...

THE TREADMILL speeds up the moment you think it will stop. You let out labored breaths, your body and face caked with sweat. You try not to pay attention to the boys heaving beside you and focus on your own time on the machine, but the conversations they have are interesting.

"Isagi! [Last Name]!"

Raichi Jingo towers over you, his blonde hair catching the lights inside and his sharp, shark-like teeth giving him an intimidating air. His confident demeanor is evident as he looks down at you and Isagi, a smug glint in his eyes as he runs on his treadmill.

"You two are so weak!" he bellows. "You think you can become the world's best striker like that?!"

"Just go home after losing to me, you weaklings!"

Raichi's stamina is admirable, an absolute marvel. He was probably running for a while now. You purse your lips together and face your own time. 42:31. Your face falls, and your breaths become heavier the more you run. The seconds feel like hours as you watch them hike up from 10 to 11.

Suddenly, the feeling of bile bubbled in your stomach as you covered your mouth and stepped off the machine.

"Ah—are you okay, [Last Name]?"

You face your teammate, Kuon Wataru, as he places a comforting hand on your shoulder. He hands you a water bottle with a small smile. "Here. This should help."

As you eagerly accept the water, you delicately take it from his hands, feeling the coolness through the bottle. With a twist, you unscrew the cap and drink half of the liquid in one swift motion. You turn to face Kuon, bowing your head slightly to express your gratitude. "Thank you," you say softly.

He is a little put off but shakes his head. "Of course. Don't even mention it."

Kuon walks away, leaving you with a sense of calm.

'At least he's gone...'

You don't have any intention of getting close to these guys. The fear bubbling up inside whenever they approach you is not something you want to deal with. Everything here is a competition to win—you had no intention of trusting anyone here.

It's scary enough that you are the only woman in this facility.

The things that could potentially happen if you aren't careful...it makes you shiver.

You clench your half-filled water bottle, hearing the small squeaks of your fingers sliding on the metal as you do so.

Suddenly, the bell rings, jolting you from your negative reverie, and pulling you back to reality.

"Finally!"

"Lunch time!"

Well, it looks like you'll need to save your energy to grab some grub.

THE RANKING SYSTEM of Blue Lock comes with its own set of advantages. One of the perks is the convenience of accessing dinner with just a single swipe, which feels like a dream come true. However, the reality is not as dreamy when the accompanying side dish turns out to be pickled radish. Picture this: your plate is filled with the goodness of miso soup, a steaming bowl of rice, and a glass of water, but it also comes with a serving of pickled radishes.

These particular dishes were often consumed at home as a component of the less-than-satisfactory meals your parents referred to as dinner, and you never found them to be particularly enjoyable. They were typically either disposed of or given to the stray cat that makes occasional visits.

You sigh at your food tray, eyelids drooping, "Pickled radishes...? Really?"

The smell makes you grimace and you scour around the room to find an empty table.

"Hey, [Last Name]."

You turn to face Yoichi Isagi, the boy you and Kira became acquaintances with before the Blue Lock orientation. Over the last few days, you barely talked to the guys. Isagi is the only one you've ever really chatted with.

"Oh," your face brightens a bit, "hey, Isagi."

He smiles kindly, gesturing to his tray, "Mind if I join you?"

"Of course not," you shake your head, "let's eat together."

The boy places his tray down and sits across from you, soon digging into his meal as you watch him. Isagi hums as he chews his rice. "You not gonna eat?"

"Oh, I am! It's just..." You sigh, "This program...is a lot. It became super intense already." Grabbing your chopsticks, you grab and place a wad of rice in your mouth and chew. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not cut out for it."

Isagi swallows, "You shouldn't sell yourself so short. I'm sure you have amazing skills."

"Right..." You nod, "thanks."

The young boy hesitantly nods before reaching for his side dish, the sticky natto, and carefully spreading it over his rice. Observing him, you notice that he takes an unusually large portion of rice, chews it thoughtfully, and then washes it down with a gulp of water.

"Not a fan of natto?" You ask.

"Not at all." He grimaces. "Disgusting."

You let out a small giggle.

In the quiet moment that follows, a sense of ease surrounds both of you. Isagi comes across as genuine, and you find yourself inclined to trust him. While you have resolved to keep your distance from these individuals, you can't shake off the feeling of loneliness. Making a friend or two doesn't seem like such a bad idea after all.

You eat your pickled radishes along with your rice. Your hunger seems to be bigger than usual, which makes you scarf down your food pretty quickly. You grab your cup of water and down the food, letting out a satisfying sigh afterward.

"[Last Name]...um..."

With a tilt of your head, you stare at Isagi curiously. "Yes?"

"Sorry about...everything." He slumps his head down, truly regretting. "I didn't mean to hit Kira with the ball...it was reflexive—"

"Don't worry about it."

Isagi snaps his head up to meet your solemn face. "Huh? But you guys are practically best friends."

You smile, trying to hide your sadness, "That doesn't matter here, now does it? I can't do anything to help Ryosuke at this point."

The boy frowns. '[Last Name]...'

"It's like Ego said, we have to watch out for ourselves. I have no intention of letting my dream die. I cherish Ryosuke, but thinking about him won't help me."

Isagi nods, eyes wide with slight admiration. "I see."

'Wow...I've never seen [Last Name] so...'

Dinner soon ended, and you all headed back to your rooms to turn in.

Except even after hours have passed, you could not sleep a wink. The room is dark and cold, and it makes you curl up beneath your thick blanket. You stare at the wall, eyes half-lidded as you recall the game of tag that took away your best friend.

"It's just a dumb game of tag! What does that have to do with soccer?!"

"This isn't right...my dream ending like this..?!"

"Just stay close to me. Okay, [name]?"

You tightly shut your eyes and bury your face into your knees, feeling the warmth of your tears against your skin. As the sadness wells up inside you, it finally releases in the form of seemingly endless tears. Your whole body shivers with each sob, and the tears don't stop flowing until you've eventually cried yourself to sleep.

YOUR ranking has changed now.

You stare at the "275" on your sweatshirt in awe. Did that training during the past three days boost your ranking and heighten your status? You smile happily, but it soon drops when doubt resurfaces back into your heart. This is probably just a joke.

Why would your ranking change so quickly? And going up by a whopping 25? It did not seem to add up.

"Oh! Wow, [Last Name]! You moved up!"

As you look back, you lock eyes with the enigmatic Bachira Meguru. His gaze radiates with the warmth of the morning sun, reflecting his immense enthusiasm and energy. excitement. You're a bit jealous of how carefree he is, that's for sure.

He smiles, "That's awesome."

You couldn't help but smile back, "Thank you, Bachira."

The TV whirrs to life, catching everyone's attention. And there he is, Ego Jinpachi in the same suit from before. His dark circles seem to get bigger each time you see him. He waves before addressing all of you.

"Nice work, you lumps of talent." he starts. "Enjoying life at Blue Lock?"

"Shove it up your butt! How can anyone enjoy this?!" Raichi shouts, his frustration echoing off the stark, cold walls of the Blue Lock facility.

"That's right... I want a proper meal," Naruhaya pouts, his stomach audibly growling despite the earlier feast.

"You little... Even after you snatched one of my gyoza..." Gagamaru grumbles, glaring at Naruhaya with a mixture of annoyance and resignation.

"Bad soccer leads to a bad environment, capiche, dickhead?" Ego retorts, his tone dripping with disdain.

"Huh?" Raichi frowns in confusion, his face contorted with irritation.

"But... let's discuss Blue Lock now. This facility is divided into five distinct strata. We have 25 teams, labeled from 'B' to 'Z,' with each set of five teams in a stratum living under identical conditions. Since 25 players—one from each team—were eliminated in our tag game, there are currently 275 players residing in Blue Lock," Ego explains, his voice smooth but tinged with a hint of satisfaction.

'Hm...I knew it...' You sigh.

"Also, each team is composed according to player ranks. In other words, Team B's players range from 1st to 11th, Team C's from 12th to 22nd, and so forth. You, Team Z, are in the lowest stratum: Stratum Number Five. Your team consists of players ranked from 265th to 275th," The slender man elaborates, his gaze steady and unyielding.

'Are you saying everyone here is the lowest of the low?' you think.

Raichi turns to face the others, his frustration is palpable. "Are you shitting me? I've got to play with this freaking trash?!"

You see Raichi pointing at you, and your head slumps in shame as you cover your rank. You know you're the lowest, painfully so when everyone looks at you like you're a pest in their playpen.

"Who are you calling 'trash'?" Kunigami demands, a vein throbbing on his temple, his expression dark and challenging.

"Hey now, let's all calm down," Kuon interjects, attempting to defuse the escalating tension.

"Players in higher ranks from other blocks have access to better meals and training equipment, reflecting the lifestyle of top strikers. This is where the finest football players live like royalty. Win, and you too can achieve such a lifestyle! This is what it means to be part of Blue Lock," Ego concludes, his tone blank but invested.

"Just you watch," Raichi mutters, his eyes narrowed with determination.

"Keep on yapping..." Kunigami retorts, crossing his arms and scowling, clearly unfazed by the confrontation.

"Now..." Ego widens his eyes maliciously, "Let us begin the first selection..."

You gulp, tightening your grip on your arm as you brace yourself for whatever Ego has to say.

"For the first selection, all of you in wing five will have a round-robin tournament for all five teams." Ego pulls up a chart hologram using the graphics on the screen. "After the final match, the top two teams will clear the selection."

'In other words, it's a survival match.' You summarize.

"So all eleven of us in Team Z count as one team?" Hyoma Chigiri asks, "Even though we're all forwards?"

"That just means we have to play the other positions!" Imamura smiles widely at his fellow teammate, Okuhito Iemon. He did not seem to like the next words that Imamura said, "You can be a goalie! I have a goalie's face!"

Iemon sighs, "Knock it off...I'll do it if I have to..."

"Then, I'll be center forward!" Raichi bellows, yet he is objected to by the others.

You are confused. 'A whole team of forwards? How's that going to work...?'

Ego sees the confusion and explains, "Listen, soccer is primarily a game about scoring points. Having all eleven players as forwards makes perfect sense. The positions and tactics that have been stupidly imprinted in your brains were just roles that were created as a part of soccer's evolution. When soccer first started out, everyone was a striker."

"Play soccer from that starting point. Rebuild it from zero in your heads."

'Rebuild soccer from zero?' You raise a brow at the man. 'What the heck does that even mean?'

"Throw out what you think of as "common sense". Reject it. And cram this new mentality deep down those brains of yours." Ego says, pointing to his head, "The most important thing for Japan to become the best country in the world, is not "the teamwork between 11 or 12 players". It is to have...A "hero" among them. Messi, C. Ronaldo, Neymar...The sheer presence of players like them has changed the sport forever. New defensive systems were created for the sole purpose of stopping them, and to overcome those systems, they evolved ever-newer tactics."

"Just like that, one player, within one team...from one country! Was able to change the world! That is the sport of soccer!"

He smirks wildly before staring down at you. You flinch as he seems to be pointing directly towards you. "Are you ready for battle?"

"Because all of that is inside Blue Lock!"

You can only watch as Ego shuts off the screen once more.