Chapter 160: The Dancer of the Pitch
"My god, what just happened?"
"In the middle of a high-stakes duel between Snuffy and Lavinho, Kira Ryosuke just ghosted in and sniped the ball right off Lavinho's foot!"
"I can't believe my eyes! We're talking about the King of Ginga here. Kira just showed zero respect for a living legend. Lavinho just got caught sleeping on the job!"
Tereasa was practically screaming into his headset, his eyes bulging. The play was nothing short of a statistical anomaly.
'Dammit... the kid stole my spotlight.'
Lavinho ignited into a dead sprint. This was humiliating. He was a global icon, a world star, and some high school kid had just made him look like an amateur. He had to admit, he'd been careless—he hadn't taken Kira seriously as a threat to his own ball control. But to time that steal so perfectly at the exact moment of a crossover?
Either the kid was a once-in-a-century genius, or he knew Lavinho's habits better than Lavinho knew them himself. It was definitely the latter. As Lavinho chased from behind, he got a clear look at Kira's posture.
The rhythm. The sway. The arrogant, effortless grace.
'Are you kidding me?'
As a man who spent half his life watching his own highlight reels, Lavinho felt like he was looking into a mirror. He wanted to call the cops. The kid was a literal copycat.
"Start the counter, Ubers!"
Lorenzo, acting as Kira's personal enforcer, was already moving up into support. Barou was ghosting in a corner, waiting for the inevitable delivery. But Kira wasn't looking for a pass yet. He felt different—his entire style had shifted into something unrecognizable.
Kira felt every cell in his body screaming with electricity. It was as if a current were vibrating through his skull. His brain was a storm of tactical inspiration, mapping out paths and feints before he even processed them. One defender after another tried to stop him, only to end up face-down in the grass.
"Do you know why Lavinho is called the Dancer?"
"He's the best in the world at being unpredictable."
"But that nickname doesn't come from his flashy footwork. It comes from the people he plays with. When you get toyed with by his dribbling, you end up collapsing in a heap. It's called the Dance of Defeat."
Snuffy was staying glued to Lavinho, narrating the history of the nickname as if he were a documentary filmmaker.
"Snuffy, what is wrong with you?"
"I am Lavinho! I don't need a history lesson on my own damn life!"
Lavinho was fuming. He could have sprinted back to shut Kira down—Kira's breakthrough was impressive, but Lavinho had the recovery speed to intervene. But Snuffy was acting like a human straightjacket, blocking every lane and keeping him trapped in a useless conversation.
"Haven't you realized it yet? Kira is a magician. He doesn't just play; he replicates the essence of his opponent," Snuffy said, revealing his theory.
Lavinho's pace slowed for a fraction of a second. 'Is there really a person capable of that?'
Kira provided the answer immediately. He had carved through the midfield until the space in front of him was nothing but green grass.
"Don't even think about it, Kira!"
Bachira had sprinted back, desperate to stop the advance. Kira met him with a cold, stylish spin. Bachira tried to mirror the rotation, desperate to keep up with the speed of the turn.
Suddenly, Bachira's foot slipped. His center of gravity shattered, and he tumbled onto the turf.
'I got crossed? By Kira?'
Bachira stared up from the grass, stunned. Dribbling was his weapon, his soul. He'd never imagined being on the receiving end of an ankle-breaker like that.
Kira was one-on-one with the keeper. The goalie charged out, desperate to smother the ball before Kira could pick a corner. It was a textbook decision—against a normal striker, it might have worked. But he was facing a Kira Ryosuke powered by a Lavinho Trial Card.
Kira gave a wicked, playful smirk. He chipped the ball into the air with the tip of his toe and launched himself forward. He sailed over the diving keeper like he was clearing a hurdle. He landed, walked the ball to the goal line, and performed a sharp, arrogant spin.
With his back to the net, he used his heel to flick the ball across the line.
The entire sequence was pure, unadulterated style. Kira turned and gave a mock-gentlemanly bow to the crowd.
"Sorry, Barcha. But the free soul of Ubers... is me."
The Barcha players looked like they wanted to crawl out of their skins and punch him. Bachira sat on the grass, watching the celebration with a dazed expression.
'Ah... I really can't touch him yet.'
In the distance, Lavinho grabbed Snuffy by the collar. "There is no way in hell you taught him that! That was my move! Is this kid a superfan? Does he sit in his room watching my clips all day?"
Lavinho felt a surge of indignation. Why did a boring workaholic like Snuffy get a student this cool? If Kira were at Barcha, Lavinho could have let him run wild.
"Calm down. I had the same thought when he first joined," Snuffy said, prying Lavinho's hands off him. "But it's not just imitation. It's his talent. He mocks us by being better at our own games than we are. He's showing off."
"So you're saying the kid isn't as wholesome as he looks," Lavinho noted. He wasn't slow; he caught the underlying warning in Snuffy's tone. Then it clicked. "Wait. He's just like you."
"A snake in the grass. This is the successor you chose?"
"Maybe," Snuffy replied, neither confirming nor denying. He just gave a small, cryptic smile that made Lavinho want to scream.
'The tactical guys are always the ones with the dirtiest minds. I need to stay away from this freak.'
***
"Incredible. My job is going to be so much easier from now on," Lorenzo said, his gold teeth flashing.
"How did you do that, Kira? That last sequence... my eyes could barely track it," Niko admitted.
For the first time, Niko felt like soccer was actually easy. He started to feel a twinge of envy for Isagi and the others who had been in a room with Kira from day one. If Kira had been on Team Y, maybe the whole squad would have made it through.
"Haha, honestly? My brain just kind of sparked. I went with the flow," Kira explained. It wasn't exactly a lie; the Trial Card had filled his head with a million variables, and he'd just picked the flashiest one.
At that moment, Sendo walked up behind Kira and started staring intently at the back of his head.
"What are you doing, Sendo?" Aiku asked, looking at his teammate's weird behavior.
"I'm trying to see if his skull is shaped differently. Why doesn't my brain spark like that?"
The comment sent the entire Ubers squad into a fit of laughter.
"Congratulations to Ubers on their 3-0 victory over FC Barcha!"
"I didn't expect a shutout of this magnitude, but Kira Ryosuke is simply playing on another level. Is there any team in this facility that can stop the Ubers machine? We'll find out next time. See you then!"
As Tereasa's sign-off echoed through the speakers, the Blue Lock TV broadcast cut to black. The viewers, however, were just getting started.
"That last goal was the disrespect of the century. I love it."
"Kira is a cheat code. How do you even defend that?"
"There's only one word for a guy like that: Monster."
Inside the control room, Ego watched the final replay with a look of genuine shock.
"I wonder which European giant is going to be lucky enough to catch his eye," Ego muttered. "Because right now, the world is at Ryosuke Kira's feet."
***
***
***
For early access to 20 chapters ahead: p@tre~~.com/Demonic_Fiction (Link is in the synopsis and my profile).