Blue Lock: Isagi the egoist

The stadium roared with excitement—the clash between Italy Ubers and Manshine City promised fireworks.

But for Isagi Yoichi—

This won't be a showdown. It'll be a message.

Manshine City had Chris Prince, the World's Number Three striker.

But Isagi had surpassed Noa, the Number One. And if Prince couldn't beat Noa—

Then he's got no chance against me.

Manshine's attack began instantly—an aggressive blitzkrieg led by Chigiri Hyoma.

The red flash of speed tore down the wing, his strides longer, his body stronger than ever. His growth was evident—his injury was ancient history.

He's fast… but speed alone won't break Ubers.

Suddenly—

Aiku stepped in.

With surgical precision, Aiku predicted Chigiri's trajectory and cut off his angle—

The ball vanished from Chigiri's feet, stolen cleanly.

Chigiri's eyes burned with frustration. Aiku smirked.

"I'm your wall," Aiku said coldly. "And this wall doesn't break."

But even Aiku can't read me. Isagi thought. Only I surpass this defense.

With Chigiri halted, Nagi Seishiro and Mikage Reo made their move.

Nagi's first touch was art— trapping an impossible pass mid-air and flicking it into space.

Reo followed up, feeding Nagi a cross with pinpoint accuracy. Their combination was tight—

But—

💥 Blocked.

Sae Itoshi intercepted the ball with a flick of his boot.

 "Nice try, but you're ten years too early," Sae mocked.

Reo gritted his teeth—"Damn it, Sae!"

But before they could recover—

A blue streak cut through their formation.

It was Isagi.

Seizing the loose ball from Sae, he charged forward—straight into Manshine's defense.

Let's dance.

Two defenders collapsed on him. He slipped between them with a body feint so sharp they stumbled into each other.

Chigiri sprinted back—

 "You're not getting through!"

But Isagi—

💥 Step-over. Stop. Acceleration.

Chigiri shot past empty air.

Sorry, Hyoma. You can't catch what's already gone.

Prince charged forward, desperate—

Isagi chipped the ball over his tackle without breaking stride.

Now it was just him and the keeper.

The goalie dove—

💥 But Isagi was already behind him.

With a light touch, he walked the ball into the net.

GOAL! 1–0 Ubers.

The stadium went silent.

Because Isagi—he made Manshine's entire team look like cones in a dribbling drill.

The game resumed, but Isagi felt something—a shift.

I'm dominating, but… it's not enough.

The world's number one? That was already his. But—

Why is my bid still low?

In the NEL, value wasn't just about victory. It was about performance—artistry—proof of your worth.

Then let's show them—

—that I'm priceless.

Ubers regained possession. From the backline, Barou Shoei—the King—grudgingly took control.

 "Tch… You better score," Barou muttered, his voice dripping with annoyance.

He launched the ball—a perfect lob over Manshine's defenders.

Isagi moved—

But this time, it was different.

His movement wasn't his own.

Instead—

Mimic the defenders.

His run shifted, his posture matching theirs—disguising his intent.

The defense hesitated, confused by his patternless stride—

And that was their doom.

The ball dropped—

💥 Volley—First Time.

Isagi's shot detonated—faster than thought.

The net bulged—

2–0 Ubers.

Barou scowled, crossing his arms.

 "Heh. Lucky shot," he muttered. But the grimace on his face gave him away.

He hated that Isagi made it look so damn easy.

The game should've been over. But Isagi—he wasn't done evolving.

His body flowed perfectly with the game—no wasted movements, every step an extension of his will.

But then he felt it—

Something's missing.

He had mastered offensive vision. But—

What about defense?

Suddenly—

A final charge from Chris Prince.

Chris Prince—desperate, cornered, and enraged—

 "You think you're better than me, kid?"

He unleashed his ace—

"The Prince's Shot"—a shot with erratic spin, unpredictable in trajectory.

But—

Isagi didn't flinch.

He saw everything—the ball's axis, the spin, the speed—

But more than that—

He saw Prince's body—the tension in his legs, the pressure in his core, the angle of his hips.

His Predator Eye combined with Omnivision.

💥 Meta-Predator Eye: The Unavoidable Truth.

Isagi stopped the shot—with his foot.

The ball froze, spinning violently against his cleat—then dropped.

Prince lunged for the rebound—

💬 "I WON'T lose to you—!"

But Isagi—

💥 Pull.

He flicked the ball past Prince's outstretched boot.

💥 Step.

A shoulder feint—Prince bit—

💥 Cut inside.

Isagi walked around him, the ball glued to his feet.

Prince—on his knees—watching helplessly.

 "...Impossible."

The keeper rushed—

But Isagi wasn't playing with him—

Outside-of-the-boot Trivella—Far Post.

The ball curled, an impossible path—

BANG—NET.

Chris Prince—The World's Number Three—

Fell to his knees.

Not just beaten—Destroyed.

As the whistle blew—

Isagi stood tall.

Prince's voice was a whisper—

"What… the hell are you?"

Isagi walked past him, barely sparing a glance—

"The future."

The screens flashed:

Isagi Yoichi – New Bid: 💰 €10,000,000 → €25,000,000

The highest in the NEL.

Better.

But—

Not enough.

I won't stop until the world sees—

That I'm not just Number One.

I'm the Only One.