Chapter 40 – End of First Selection

The game resumed after the medical staff determined that Nagi's ankle was fine, with only the outer skin scraped. However, the loss of Reo weighed heavily on Team V. Without their leader, they struggled to organize their offense effectively. The rhythm they relied on had vanished, and the void left by Reo's absence was palpable.

Nagi, now even more agitated, became reckless in his movements. Desperation fueled his every step as he repeatedly tried to force his way through the left flank. But each time, Kira stood in his path, shutting him down with brutal efficiency. It was painful to watch—Kira made sure that Nagi hit the ground every time he touched the ball. Although Kira was more cautious now, knowing he was already carrying a yellow card, he never let up on his relentless defense.

From the sidelines, Isagi winced in sympathy as Nagi went down again after yet another rough challenge. 'It's hard to watch... but I can't deny it's working,' Isagi thought, his focus sharpening. 'As brutal as Kira's play is, our goal hasn't been breached once.'

Despite the harshness of Kira's methods, Isagi couldn't help but feel a growing admiration for his tactical brilliance. Every player on the field was moving exactly as Kira orchestrated, like pieces in a well-oiled machine. He denied Team V any chance to attack, while Team Z ruthlessly capitalized on every opportunity. It was a masterclass in vision, strategy, and leadership.

'Wait…' A realization hit Isagi like a bolt of lightning. 'If Kira can use his vision to control the game like this, then I should be able to do the same!'

With renewed determination, Isagi began moving with intent, studying the flow of the game. He watched Kira closely, noticing how the older player directed his teammates—his voice was guiding Bachira, Naruhaya, and the others to precise positions. 'Instructions! I have to use my voice too!'

Isagi positioned himself on the right side of the field, finding a pocket of space. Before he could even shout for the ball, it was already on its way to him. Bachira, with his usual mischievous grin, had spotted Isagi's positioning and delivered a perfect pass.

Isagi smiled to himself. 'Of course... these guys will find me as long as I'm in the right place.'

Without hesitation, Isagi let the ball roll onto his foot and, in one fluid motion, struck it cleanly toward the top left corner of the goal. The shot soared, precise and powerful.

Team V: 0 – 5 : Team Z.

Isagi's heart swelled with exhilaration as the ball hit the back of the net. He had done it—he scored! Arms raised in triumph, he celebrated, reveling in the success of his growing vision on the field.

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The game resumed with Team V launching a desperate long ball towards Nagi, their only glimmer of hope. The ball soared high into the air, cutting through the tension that hung heavy over the pitch. It was clear that this was Team V's last-ditch effort to break through the relentless pressure that had suffocated them the entire match.

Nagi bolted down the left flank with every ounce of strength he could muster, his legs burning as they pumped faster and faster. His lungs felt like they were on fire, but he pushed through the pain, refusing to slow down. He knew he had to get there—he had to make a difference. Each breath came ragged, but his focus remained razor-sharp. He willed his body to keep going, to reach that ball before anyone else.

The ball dropped perfectly, just outside the final third, precisely where Nagi had anticipated it. Time seemed to slow as he leaped, stretching his right leg with every fiber of his being. His body contorted midair, an almost unnatural twist, resembling the acrobatic silhouette of a figure from the Bundesliga logo. His foot reached for the ball, aiming to trap it with the finesse and precision he was known for. But just as his toes brushed the surface, a sudden shove jolted him—an unseen force nudging against his ribs, subtle but enough to knock him off balance.

The ball slipped past his reach. Before he could recover, another player darted in, snatching it away. Nagi crashed to the ground, the impact jarring his body, frustration boiling in his chest. His mind screamed at him to get back up. He couldn't let it end here. Scrambling to his feet, his heart pounded in his ears as he chased after the ball. He had to win it back. He needed to.

"It's futile, little egg," Kira's voice dripped with condescension. He smirked as he loomed over Nagi. "Stay down so you don't get hurt." The words came out soft, almost mocking, as if tempting Nagi to surrender, to admit defeat.

But Nagi wasn't listening. Desperation fueled him, and he lashed out, sweeping his foot in an attempt to trip Kira. The action was wild, born of frustration, and Kira dodged it effortlessly, flicking the ball into the air as he leaped over Nagi's outstretched leg. Nagi's eyes followed helplessly as Kira sailed past, the ball now firmly in his control.

Team V's defense crumbled once more. Before Nagi could react, Kira's brilliant pass set up another crushing goal for Team Z. The scoreboard flashed mercilessly.

Kira walked over, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He kneeled beside Nagi, locking eyes with him. Nagi felt a suffocating wave of malice radiating from Kira—an unrelenting, ice-cold contempt. The intensity of Kira's hatred was palpable, like a heavy, dark cloud pressing down on him. Nagi had never felt anything like it. It chilled him to his core.

"Go back and suck on your mama's tits, boy," Kira sneered, his words venomous. "The football field isn't for you." There was no passion in his voice, no fire—just cold, cruel certainty. He said it as though it were a fact carved in stone, an undeniable truth.

The scoreboard confirmed the brutal reality:

Team V: 0 – 6 : Team Z.

The match ended in a devastating defeat for Team V. Kira's dominance had crushed them, leaving nothing but shattered pride and bitter frustration in its wake.

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As Team Z celebrated on the field, their voices mingling with each others, the stadium's intercom crackled to life once more, drawing everyone's attention.

"All matches for Wing 5 are now completed! The results of the first selection will now be announced."

A moment of anticipation fell over the players, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins from the game, now heightened by the final verdict.

"The final results for the five-team round robin tournament: both Team Z and Team V have advanced with all eleven players intact, with Team Z emerging as the reigning champions. Additionally, the top three scoring players from the disqualified teams are as follows: Raito Fuwa from Team W, Ikki Niko from Team Y, and Shoei Barou from Team X."

The scoreboard flashed brightly, displaying the final standings. The pictures of Fuwa, Niko, and Barou appeared, their determined expressions immortalized on the screen. Each of their faces represented survival, having clawed their way into the next phase despite their teams' disqualification.

"The aforementioned 25 players from Blue Lock Wing 5 have cleared the first round of selection!"

The announcement echoed through the stadium, a confirmation of what they already knew deep down, but hearing it spoken aloud brought everything into focus. Cheers erupted across the field, the relief and euphoria bubbling up uncontrollably. Teammates grabbed each other, some yelling in excitement, others clumped their fist, overwhelmed by the weight of their achievement.

For Team Z, the victory was especially sweet. They had survived, they had conquered, and now they stood at the top, champions of their wing. This was a moment to relish, to soak in every ounce of triumph before the intensity of the second selection began.

Laughter and cheers filled the air as they allowed themselves to bask in the joy of the moment. Their hard work had paid off, but in the back of their minds, they knew the road ahead would only get tougher. But for now, they were going to enjoy every second of their hard-earned victory.