Ryūma Banjō listened to Yushu Furukawa’s arrogant words, his eyes once again glowing deep purple as he sneered,
“You fat slob, just wait—my goal will wipe that grin off your bloated face!” Chapters fırst released on N0veI.Fiɾe.net
He returned to his half, ready for the kick-off. At that moment, Rin Itoshi approached, expressionless.
“Dribble it in and pass to me. You’ve already been stopped three times—this time, I’ll score.”
“Hah? Didn’t you see? They can’t stop me anymore! If it weren’t for that fatso, my last shot would’ve gone in!”
“Hey! Are you even listening? Either way, I’m not passing to you.”
Watching Rin Itoshi walk away without another word, Ryūma fumed inwardly:
(This loner… If you want my help, just say it! Instead, you have to put me down? Forget it, I’m not passing to you!)
With those thoughts still in mind, Ryūma charged forward with the ball and called to Yo Hiori beside him,
“Just focus on my movements and keep up with me!”
“Got it! This time I won’t get completely shut down like before!”
Yo Hiori answered firmly, then sprinted past Ryūma’s left, waiting for the pass.
By now, they had reached Team Z’s frontcourt. Four defenders moved in—two in front and two behind, their formation resembling the character “二” when seen from above.
To prevent Ryūma from dribbling through everyone, they split their coverage. Even if he got past the front two, the back pair would cut him off. At worst, he’d be trapped by all four defenders, unable to pass or shoot.
But they forgot—Ryūma wasn’t advancing alone.
“Okay! Let’s go, Ryūma!”
Hiori darted left with the ball, drawing the back two defenders. This created the perfect opening. Ryūma burst forward on the right.
“Heh, they took the bait! Break through, Ryūma!”
Hiori sent the ball past the four defenders. The moment it hit the ground, Ryūma was already there. Together, they cut through Team Z’s backline with ease.
“Damn! We forgot to mark him—he linked up with Ryūma!”
“You three, stay on Hiori. I’ll reinforce the back four against Ryūma!”
One of Team Z’s players barked orders before rushing after him.
Now deep in Team Z’s half, Ryūma came face-to-face with his old rival, Akemi Inoue.
“Heh! Kid, I’ve studied every trick in your book. This time, you’re not getting past me!”
“I really don’t want to crush your confidence…”
(No time for this idiot. You’ve studied my dribbles? Then don’t you think I’ve studied your defense too?)
Inoue’s words didn’t rattle Ryūma at all—if anything, they amused him. He exploded forward down the right.
(Still so damn fast! But after facing it so many times, I’m getting used to it. This time I’ll stop him!)
As Inoue lunged to block, Ryūma stopped cold, seamlessly shifting left.
(Ah! A cut! I’ve seen this first move countless times, and it’s still lightning fast. He really is a monster!)
Inoue stretched his leg to block the left side, but Ryūma braked again and instantly cut right.
(I knew it! He’s setting up for his terrifying triple feint. This time, I’ll stop him for sure!)
Just as Inoue predicted, Ryūma halted once more when Inoue committed.
“Now! I’ve got you this time!”
The moment Ryūma stopped, Inoue lunged left without hesitation—
“I told you, I really didn’t want to crush your spirit.”
Inoue’s eyes widened in shock as Ryūma surged past him on the right.
He had expected an instant third feint. Fearing he wouldn’t react in time, he preemptively committed. But Ryūma had paused for a full second before bursting through on the right—completely throwing him off.
(What…? He used the first two feints to make me think he’d go for the triple! Then, when I thought I had him, he delayed the third move by a full second…!)
(He beat me again! Am I really powerless to ever stop him…?)
Inoue froze in despair, watching Ryūma’s figure race past.
The remaining three defenders surged forward together. Ryūma’s relentless breakthroughs had left them rattled, their faces tense with urgency.
Shūhō Aoki and Haiichi Murakami closed side by side, left and right, while the tallest, Yukio Ishikari, held back just behind them, ready to cut off any shot. If the first two fell, he’d step in immediately.
Inside the box, two more Team Z players held position, while Hiori had also rushed in, ready to support Ryūma in breaking through and setting up a shot.
Even so, the defense was solid—airtight. Despite reaching the edge of the box, Ryūma had no angle to shoot.
(Every second counts. No time to waste. Hiori’s inside the box… In that case—)
Ryūma suddenly accelerated toward Murakami’s side. As Murakami moved to intercept, Ryūma spun through with a Marseille turn, shifting the ball toward Aoki’s side. Then, with another burst, he closed in on Aoki.
The defenders reacted fast, turning to chase. Their coordination was tight—Aoki on Ryūma’s left, Murakami on his right, closing in for a double press.
But just as they were about to pin him, Ryūma stopped cold—ball and body frozen mid-sprint!
The two couldn’t match his freakish body control. Carried by momentum, they stumbled several steps ahead before regaining balance.
“What kind of monster control is that?!”
“Damn! How can anyone stop instantly while sprinting like that?!”
As they scrambled to turn back, Ryūma darted left and wound up for a shot.
“Block him, Ishikari!”
Aoki adjusted first, charging to cut off the strike. Murakami dashed into the box as backup, ready to clear if Aoki and Ishikari failed.
(You idiots… this isn’t a shot! How many times before you learn?)
Ryūma’s right foot skimmed over the ball. Spinning smoothly, he flicked it into the box with his heel—
It wasn’t a shot at all—it was a pass, straight to Hiori, who had been waiting in the box all along.
Hiori trapped the ball cleanly. At the same time, Ryūma sprinted down the left flank.
Seeing his run, Hiori instantly understood.
“Over there, Ryūma! I know you’ll get to it!”
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