As Ryūma Banjō dragged Jyubei Aryu back toward their half, he sighed helplessly.
“Quit acting weird already. Kickoff’s about to start. You’re marking that guy, Shōei Barō.”
“I’m taking Hyōma Chigiri.”
Aryu immediately objected.
“Huh? You want me to mark that muscle gorilla?”
“No way—that’s not trendy at all!”
“I’m marking that naturally stylish guy, Hyōma Chigiri!”
“This is a clash of fashion and flair!”
Ryūma rubbed his temples, already too tired to argue.
“Fine, whatever. But Chigiri’s fast—if you can’t stop him, switch with me right away.”
“Hmph! Relax, I’m not losing to anyone!”
Seeing Aryu’s overconfident grin, Ryūma didn’t bother replying. He walked back to his position, waiting for the kickoff.
Red Team’s ball. Seishiro Nagi kicks off from the center!
Right after kickoff, Nagi passed the ball to Ryūma on the left side of the circle, and the rest of the Red Team charged forward together.
Ryūma didn’t hesitate for a second—he immediately passed it off again.
He had no intention of getting into a physical clash with that muscle-bound gorilla, Shōei Barō. That’d be a total waste of time.
On the right flank of the White Team’s midfield, Jyubei Aryu leapt high and trapped the ball smoothly with his chest.
Chigiri could only watch helplessly—Aryu had jumped way too high.
The pass had dropped right into his aerial domain.
As Aryu landed with the ball, Yoichi Isagi’s eyes gleamed green as he blocked Aryu’s path.
(Nice timing on that defense.)
(But you think that’s enough to stop me?)
Aryu didn’t slow down—he made a long stride toward Isagi’s left side, trying to beat him with speed.
But before he could take a few steps, Meguru Bachira’s playful voice rang out from behind.
“Where do you think you’re running off to, Mr. Aryu~?”
Aryu frowned slightly. Just as he hesitated whether to force a breakthrough, Nagi’s slightly impatient voice came from his left.
“The white-haired kid?! Nice one!”
Without hesitation, Aryu went for the pass the moment Nagi entered his field of vision.
But just as he did, another figure moved.
“Sorry, I’ll take that!”
Nagi’s eyes widened in surprise as Isagi intercepted it, then quickly realized he’d been tricked—not him, but Aryu.
Isagi didn’t hold onto the ball for long. He immediately sent a pass toward the left side of the Red Team’s midfield.
Over there, Rin Itoshi was already running expressionlessly toward the landing spot. Fortunately, Bachira arrived first, cutting the ball off.
Without giving Rin a chance to act, Bachira quickly passed the ball toward the center of the Red Team’s midfield.
Seeing the ball leave, Rin spun and sprinted after it.
“That pass was way too trendy!”
Meanwhile, Aryu, from the right side, also cut diagonally toward the middle.
Bachira locked onto both the ball’s trajectory and the fast-approaching Hyōma Chigiri.
“Perfect pass! Watch me blow past them!”
Chigiri dashed forward, eyes sharp as he assessed the distance between himself, Aryu, and Rin.
(Based on our positions and my top speed...)
(If I calculate the intersection point... I just need to reach it in that instant!)
With that thought, Chigiri clenched his teeth and accelerated again, his eyes glowing faintly pink.
(That spot—that’s my one and only breakthrough point!)
In the next moment, using his run-up’s momentum, Chigiri leapt forward, connecting with the ball mid-air.
Man and ball sliced right past Rin and Aryu’s pincer attempt. As soon as he landed, Chigiri shot without hesitation!
GOAL!! Red Team 0 – 1 White Team!
Bachira and Chigiri high-fived, their morale soaring after scoring the first goal.
Isagi grinned with excitement.
(That’s it—just like that!)
(This time, we’re not losing! And this time, I’ll beat you, Rin Itoshi!)
He glared at Rin from across the field, eyes burning with determination. But Rin barely spared him a glance before turning away indifferently.
Back on the Red Team’s side, Ryūma looked at Aryu with a teasing smile.
“Lost the ball, huh, Aryu? Man, that’s lame~”
“I’ll get you one back later!”
“Haha, relax, I’m kidding. I’ll get revenge for you next time!”
A flicker of purple light flashed in Ryūma’s eyes as he stepped up for the kickoff.
Red Team’s ball again. Ryūma takes the kickoff!
After the whistle, Ryūma passed the ball to Nagi on the right side of the center circle.
Nagi trapped it effortlessly but didn’t rush to move. Instead, he scanned the field.
(Rin’s behind me on the left... no clue what he’s thinking—can’t keep up with his logic.)
(Aryu’s calling for the ball, but Chigiri’s right next to him, and Barō’s watching him like a hawk. Too risky to pass.)
(Ryūma’s positioning’s weird, too. He’s open to receive but not cutting inside, so even if I pass, it won’t change much.)
As Nagi hesitated, Isagi found his chance and lunged in with a sliding tackle.
But Nagi reacted instantly, dodging just in time.
He stopped thinking and decided to trust Ryūma, kicking the ball toward him!
On the left wing, Ryūma smiled at the incoming ball and at the White Team.
“Well, Isagi and Bachira have already seen my skills...”
“So let’s give our two new guests a little performance. Showtime~”
Chigiri and Barō looked puzzled, but Isagi’s face immediately darkened.
He suddenly remembered the dread of facing Ryūma before and shouted,
“Chigiri! Barō! Watch out! That guy’s dribbling ability is—” The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novelFɪre.net
Before Isagi could finish, Ryūma’s right foot struck the ball.
Barō, the closest to him, only felt a rush of wind by his ear before seeing Ryūma—wreathed in purple flames—blaze past him at a speed beyond comprehension.
“What kind of explosive speed is that!?”
p@treon com / GhostParser