Chapter 2 : Statement

10 Minutes before being subbed in

'The soccer player's form has only two fears: injury and age. These two things make any player anxious. After reaching their hard-earned peak, it usually lasts only about five years before rapidly declining. That happened to me, but at some point, it became a relief, as my peak performance was stable in my early 30s while playing in the Premier League. Even though I was careful with injuries, I struggled for years, not getting the chances I deserved. I wasn't extraordinary enough for the management to take risks on me. When I did get chances, I blew many of them.

I played as a midfielder or winger and was good at dribbling and passing. I also had some talent as a defensive midfielder. My biggest flaw was my shooting ability, but I managed to improve that by the age of 28, showcasing abilities I never had before. However, I couldn't maintain those improvements for long. One fateful tackle ended everything for me. A defender, who I had dribbled past multiple times and was obviously frustrated, made a reckless foul that cost both of us dearly.

Was it intentional? Yes, totally. And I would do it again if given the chance. He had effectively ended my peak form, and I made sure he paid for it. I was always a quick thinker and decisive on the field, which helped me make the incident look like an accident, putting the blame on him. To justify my actions, I could easily argue that I was only reacting to what he was trying to do. He wasn't aiming for the ball, but my legs. In that moment, I thought, 'This tackle could end my career,' so I made sure to get my revenge right then and there.

After that, my speed and dribbling dropped below average, and I could no longer break through defenses the way I once did. My peak form lasted only four months. From there, I was relegated to a midfield position, which I held until I was 31. Since the club had no interest in renewing my contract, I chose to leave and join a lower-league team to earn money. After signing the deal, I went straight home and collapsed into bed. And then, after a bit of sleep, I found myself in this body.

Well, that's the epilogue of my story. Interesting enough, huh? System?'

Isagi chuckled to himself as he interacted with the System, which, until now, had spoken in formal tones but seemed to be opening up to him. He was discovering all kinds of fascinating functions and perks of the System, and it made him smile. The reason he didn't approach the coach immediately after waking up was because the System had been helping him adjust to his new body.

[By the way, you don't seem stressed about the penalty]

Isagi responded with a casual tone

"Well, the task is to get selected for the Blue Lock Project. I know that Isagi receives a letter on the same day he loses this match, so I figure they've been keeping an eye on the players for a long time. They probably already had Isagi in mind for this project. So, as long as I do the bare minimum on the pitch, the quest is a done deal. The real purpose of this quest is probably to keep me from rejecting the Blue Lock invitation... at least, that's what I think."

[Is that so?]

"Wait, do you not know the story?"

[Ah, no I don't.]

[This world's fate has not been provided to me.]

"Well, just stay ignorant then. You might find it more interesting that way."

[If you say so.]

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On the Field, Present

'Oh shit! I just can't stop smiling. This is so good! I'm young again, no injuries! And I can dribble however I want, with no restrictions!'

The sheer exhilaration coursed through Isagi as he received the ball. Without a second thought, he charged forward, slicing through Matsukaze Kokuo's midfield like a hot knife through butter. His teammates were sticking to the coach's strategy, but Isagi? He ignored it all. This was his moment.

As he dashed forward, three defenders closed in on him. The left-back was chasing him from behind, while the two center-backs took positions—one blocking his path straight ahead, the other marking him from the right. Despite the intense pressure, Isagi's grin only widened.

He noticed Tada and the left winger were wide open for a pass. His teammates' voices echoed in his ears, begging for the ball. Even the coach's frantic shouts barely registered. None of it mattered. The urge to take on the defense himself was overwhelming.

The defenders' positions reminded him of the drills he used to practice with cones, and he couldn't resist. With a sudden burst of speed, Isagi faked a lane change to the right, causing the center-backs to shift their weight. At the last moment, he kicked the ball left with his right foot, threading it behind the left center-back. The defenders were caught off guard as Isagi slipped between them and reclaimed the ball on the other side.

The stadium erupted. Gasps and cheers filled the air as Isagi's audacious move left the defense in shambles. He was now within striking distance of the penalty box.

But the right-back, who had been marking the left winger, abandoned his position to chase Isagi down. Determined to stop him, the defender lunged in, aiming to foul him before he could reach the danger zone.

Isagi didn't flinch. He ignored the defender entirely, locked his sights on the goal, and unleashed a powerful strike toward the top-left corner.

The goalkeeper dived, arms outstretched, but it was too late. The ball soared past him, kissed the inside of the post, and nestled into the net. The goal was flawless.

The Ichinan fans exploded with joy, their cheers shaking the stadium. The atmosphere transformed in an instant. Hope, long absent from the crowd, had returned with a vengeance.

{GOAL!!! Ichinan has scored their first! No.11 just sent a clear message: the game is far from over!}

{Absolutely! Matsukaze Kokuo had gotten too comfortable with their lead, and now the tides are shifting.}

{And look at that precision! If No.11 keeps this form, this match could become much more intense than we ever imagined.}

The commentators, once certain of Matsukaze Kokuo's dominance, couldn't hide their excitement. They had just witnessed a moment of brilliance that might turn the entire game around.

Isagi stood there, staring at the net, his grin as wide as ever. He wasn't celebrating—not yet. They were still trailing, after all. But his heart pounded with pride and satisfaction. This was what he'd missed. This was what he lived for.

Behind him, his teammates couldn't hold back. They swarmed him, shouting and cheering. Even the defenders and goalkeeper joined in the celebrations from a distance, their voices adding to the jubilant chaos.

'I guess my rank will change after this... Haha!'

Isagi's mind raced with possibilities. He had broken through not just the defense but the doubts of his teammates, the expectations of the crowd, and even the limits he thought he had.

And this was only the beginning.

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