"Journey Through Mystery"

The rumble of the bus echoed through the narrow mountain pass.

Its tires crunching over gravel and asphalt as it wound its way toward a future shrouded in mystery.

Yoichi Isagi sat by the window.

His chin resting on his palm.

Watching the sharp peaks and dense forests roll past.

The air was thick with anticipation, though no one spoke.

The silence wasn't awkward.

It was the kind born of shared tension, each player lost in their own thoughts.

Dozens of buses snaked behind and ahead of Isagi's.

Each carrying players who, like him, had taken the leap into the unknown.

Over 300 of them in total.

Bound together by ambition, ego, and a hunger for greatness.

1 Hour later.

Isagi's mind wandered until a sharp turn brought the facility into view.

His breath caught as his eyes locked onto the massive pentagon-shaped structure standing imposingly in the distance.

Its steel walls gleamed under the midday sun, radiating an aura of cold precision.

Carved into the building in bold, unyielding letters were the words.

BLUE LOCK

"So that's... Blue Lock!" he thought.

The words resonating in his mind.

"The place that'll turn our football lives upside down!"

The buses pulled into a vast concrete lot, the facility looming overhead.

The doors hissed open, and one by one, the players stepped out.

Their gazes darting around, taking in their surroundings.

Some muttered in awe, others stood silent, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of it all.

Isagi followed suit, his eyes scanning the meticulously designed structure.

Then as the last players exited.

Staff members in black suits approached.

Without explanation, they began collecting personal items—wallets, phones, and anything else deemed unnecessary for the journey ahead.

The players were cooperative but visibly uneasy.

This was no longer the world they knew.

Soon after, a striking woman stepped forward.

She was youthful, with neck-length brown hair styled neatly into two small braids, her chocolate-brown eyes sharp but kind.

"I'm Anri Teieri," she introduced herself, her voice steady yet warm.

"Welcome to Blue Lock. I'll be assisting with your journey here, starting now."

She handed out uniforms—a sleek, black and blue design.

Each emblazoned with a number and a letter patch on the chest.

Flashback

The scene shifted to a brightly lit conference room.

Anri Teieri stood before a panel of Japan Football Union executives.

Her hands trembling slightly as she clutched a stack of papers.

Her voice, however, was unwavering.

"Japan has always aimed for the top," she began.

"But the reality is, we've never even touched it. The world of football is ruthless. If we want to win a World Cup, we need to do more than hope. We need to rebuild."

The executives exchanged skeptical glances.

One of them leaned forward, adjusting his glasses.

"Miss Teieri, while your ambition is commendable, our current strategies focus on sponsorships and profitability. We can't risk investing in an unproven experiment like this Blue Lock."

Anri's fists tightened at her sides.

"Football isn't just a business. It's a dream—a national dream. A World Cup victory would inspire generations. And I believe Blue Lock is the way to make that happen."

The room fell silent as she advanced her proposal, detailing the system, the facility, and the philosophy behind it.

Her voice grew more impassioned with every word, her conviction shining through.

Finally, she turned toward the projector screen.

Where a figure appeared—lean, sharp-eyed, with a commanding presence that seemed to leap off the screen.

"This is Jinpachi Ego," Anri announced.

"He's the visionary behind Blue Lock. His methods are unconventional, yes, but if anyone can break down the stagnation of our current system and build a true champion, it's him."

Present

The line moved steadily.

Each player stepping forward to receive his uniform.

"Next… Yoichi Isagi," Anri called, her voice pulling him.

He stepped forward.

"Good luck," she said with a small, encouraging smile.

Isagi's hands trembled slightly as he unfolded the shirt.

Stitched onto the chest was the number:

299, Z.

"What does this number mean?" he wondered, staring at it.

As the other players murmured around him.

The enormous entrance doors of Blue Lock creaked open.

Revealing an expansive lobby that left the players momentarily stunned.

The room was enormous, its ceiling arching high above.

With sleek concrete walls giving it an industrial, unwelcoming feel.

The harsh fluorescent lights illuminated rows of hallways stretching in all directions.

Their configurations labyrinthine and disorienting.

Isagi's eyes darted around.

Each hallway seemed to twist and turn unpredictably.

Some leading to dead ends.

Others branching off further into the depths of the facility.

The players exchanged uncertain glances.

The magnitude of the place adding another layer of tension to their already frayed nerves.

Miss Anri stepped forward.

Her voice commanding attention.

"All right," she began, her tone steady and authoritative,

"Now each of you will go to the room matching your uniform's letter. We'll notify you when it's time to change into your uniform."

There was a brief moment of silence as the players absorbed her words.

Then the room stirred with movement.

Clutching their uniforms, they began to disperse.

Filing into different hallways in search of their designated rooms.

Isagi glanced down at his shirt.

The bold patch read.

299, Z.

"It was 299Z... So Z, then," he thought to himself.

Gripping the uniform tighter as he headed into the maze.

The concrete hallways stretched endlessly before him.

Their sterile walls offering little direction.

As he walked, Isagi passed numerous black doors.

Some bore letters corresponding to the players' uniforms—A, B, C—while others were unmarked.

Each door felt like a piece of the mystery surrounding Blue Lock.

The further he went, the quieter the facility became.

The muffled sound of footsteps fading behind him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity.

Isagi spotted a door labeled Room Z.

"Oh, here it is," he muttered under his breath.

His heart quickened as he approached it.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the handle.

The cold metal felt firm under his fingers as he pushed the door open.

"It begins here," he thought.

"Let's see this 'Blue Lock.'"