Chapter 22: World-Class Players
After the celebration feast, everything that happened afterward proceeded exactly as Naruhaya Asahi had predicted.
"Hah!? We're not starting the second selection right away!?"
Raichi Jingo roared angrily at Ego Jinpachi on the screen.
"Cut the crap. While you're waiting for the results of the other buildings, you're going to start strengthening your physical capabilities right now. Also, during training, you are strictly forbidden to use a ball.
Anyone who violates this, or fails to keep up, will be considered withdrawn."
On the screen inside Team Z's dorm, Ego Jinpachi slowly raised a virtual football.
Raichi shouted again, "What the hell!? Why do we have to wait for the match results from the other buildings!?"
Annoyed by the monkey's yelling, Ego glared down at him and said in a tone that left no room for argument:
"You barely clawed your way up from the very bottom — Building Five. Don't get cocky. You train until I say you can stop. You trash."
The screen showed extremely advanced training equipment and clear data comparisons, shocking everyone in Team Z.
"Those in the higher-ranked buildings—like the players in Building 1—don't need to participate in the first selection. They're undergoing the most cutting-edge training available.
For weaklings like you—thin as bean sprouts—you should be grateful I'm giving you the time to build your stamina, idiots."
Ego's hollow black eyes stared down at them.
"Know your place as bottom-feeders!"
Naruhaya Asahi, who got hit by the blanket insult: "?"
Then Ego remembered that Team Z actually contained a rising star trained in America.
"…Player Naruhaya, you train with these idiots too."
Naruhaya sighed and nodded.
Well, he had no choice — he just had to keep bulldozing forward until he reached the building that originally belonged to him: Building 1.
And so Team Z's hell-training began.
---
Daily Schedule
09:00 — 2-hour endurance run × 2
14:00 — Core training 1 hour × 2
16:00 — Weight training
18:00 — 100 sprint runs
20:00 — Dinner
By the third day of physical-enhancement training, Isagi finally couldn't take it and collapsed. The others weren't doing much better.
The only one still in top form was Naruhaya Asahi.
Perhaps because he'd experienced this level of extreme training before, he wasn't tired at all — in fact, the familiarity of it made him feel even more comfortable. On top of Ego's regimen, he smoothly added a series of self-imposed restrictions.
Compared to the youngest and strongest member of the team, the others had no grounds to complain about the harshness of the program. All they could do was push forward with brute determination.
Days passed.
Finally, at 6:30 AM on the 10th day, while everyone was still snoring from exhaustion—
Ding-dong-tadatong——
[As of now, all First Selection matches across Blue Lock's buildings have been completed.]
[All players who passed, immediately change into your training gear and gather in the central area below your building. Repeating...]
The broadcast jolted everyone awake.
More important than being woken up was the fact that hell-training had finally ended.
Having nearly gone insane from the suffering, their spirits surged to maximum.
Raichi clenched his fists so tightly they trembled.
"Took you long enough, Ego! If you made us wait one more day, I really would've razed Blue Lock to the ground!"
Imamura agreed. "Same here. Those spoiled high-rankers living comfy in the upper buildings — I'm taking their spots."
Monk: "Good! Namu!!!"
Naruhaya Asahi had the calmest reaction.
After all, this "hell training" was only hell for everyone else — for him, it was just normal training.
But he did have one source of anger:
If he found even a single incompetent scrub mixed among the so-called 'high-ranked buildings,' he would crush the administrators and those fake elites without hesitation.
The long deprivation from football had all the strikers burning with fury as they marched toward the gathering point.
Following the sign marked 2ND STAGE, they moved toward the designated area.
Isagi approached Naruhaya, who walked at the very front.
"The next phase… we'll be separated."
Naruhaya didn't even look back.
"Yeah. And the next time we meet, we're enemies."
Bachira rushed up, throwing an arm around the small tyrant's shoulders.
"Nice~ When the time comes, make sure you beat us down with everything you've got — like you did with Team V."
Except for the monk, Kunigami, Chigiri, Kuon, and the rest nodded.
Being defeated with someone's full strength was far better than a half-hearted loss.
"We'll see how you perform," Naruhaya replied.
If these scrubs could actually evolve far enough to earn even a second of his attention, then out of respect for former teammates, he would defeat them thoroughly and honorably.
But before that, he was far more interested in battling the players from Buildings One to Four.
He hoped they could entertain him.
---
At the Second Stage Gathering Area
Naruhaya stared in disbelief at the players from the other buildings.
Their training uniforms were all labeled V, W, Y, X, Z.
He broke away from Team Z, walked to a wall, crouched down, and clamped a hand over his mouth.
Gag—
Damn it.
Those bastard administrators actually tricked him.
What "elite privileges in Building One"?
What "advanced training technology"?
What "higher-ranked players"?
There weren't ANY Buildings 1–4.
There were ONLY five buildings.
All of them were Building 5.
He felt physically ill.
Seeing him like that, the others in his building respectfully averted their eyes.
They knew how much he'd been looking forward to fighting the top players.
Now discovering they didn't exist — of course he would be devastated.
Better to ignore him.
If the little tyrant finished puking and caught them staring, one or two punches wouldn't be enough.
Players from the other buildings misinterpreted the scene, thinking Naruhaya was some pitiful weakling getting bullied.
"Tch, look at that weakling."
"Seriously."
Then Ego Jinpachi appeared on the massive screen above the gathering area.
"Hi, raw gems. Good work on your physical-enhancement training.
Currently gathered here are all players who passed the first selection — 25 from each building, five buildings, 125 total.
But perhaps the sharp ones among you have noticed — there are no players from Buildings 1 through 4."
A murmur rolled through the crowd.
"That's because those buildings don't exist. In Blue Lock, only Building Five exists."
Ego opened his hand, revealing five pentagons, all labeled Building Five.
"All of you believed you were placed in the lowest-ranked V–Z groups and fought to the death in the first selection."
Outrage erupted.
"Was that a lie!? You made us do all that training — were you trying to kill us!?"
"Yes. Correct."
Ego gazed at them like hopeless children.
"Everything was a lie I crafted to destroy your childish self-confidence, and cultivate the hunger needed to become the world's best."
Naruhaya, still suppressing the urge to vomit, heard the words hunger and finally lifted his head.
Ego continued:
"Listen carefully. Let's take Noël Noah as an example — currently the world's greatest striker. He grew up in the slums of France.
In days filled with violence and crime, there was only one way for him to change his fate — the ball. That's not a metaphor. Football was his only hope.
There are many strikers around the world with similar backgrounds. Their hunger for scoring is something you cannot even imagine. Compared to them, you pampered Japanese kids could never reach that level — living in a country where even if you lose, you still survive comfortably."
"Blue Lock will give you the hunger necessary to become number one."
Ego lowered his hands and sat back in his chair.
Naruhaya heard all the surrounding nonsense, but only a few words stuck in his mind:
Noël Noah.
Slums.
Changing fate.
Hunger.
Striker.
He added hunger to his memory.
He forgave the lying administrator.
Back in Team Z, he'd already sensed that even though everyone said they came to Blue Lock for their football careers, something felt fundamentally different compared to those poor kids playing barefoot in the slums on his phone screen.
A subtle, essential difference.
Until now, he never knew what it was.
Now he understood.
Other countries' players hunger for football because their survival depends on it.
Japanese players hunger for the dream of success.
The difference was fundamental.
Ego continued with the explanation of the Second Selection:
"…That hunger becomes the self that will change the world. Now let's begin the second selection."
Naruhaya inhaled deeply.
He was ready to leave Blue Lock.
With no Buildings 1–4, there was no reason to stay.
A sheltered football nation like this could never give him a stage where he could face Mr. Arthas.
Change nationality.
Go abroad.
Join a prestigious youth academy.
Even start by scrubbing toilets — anything was better than playing house here.
But before that, he would at least humor the administrator by listening to the explanation.
Ego continued:
"The Second Selection consists of five stages. Only those who pass each stage can move on.
First, complete the initial task — your next challenge. Those who make it to Stage Five and clear the Second Selection will earn the right to train with the world's top players I have selected."
"Eh!?"
World-class players.
Naruhaya stared wide-eyed.
Ego wasn't joking — world-class players were really coming to Blue Lock.
YES!!!
His beloved Arthas!
World's No.1 striker Noël Noah!
France's lightning prodigy Julian Loki!
He prayed the Blue Lock budget was big enough to invite these legends.
His legs were shaking — he wanted time to skip ahead so training day would arrive.
Even though there were no top-ranked Japanese players here, world-class players would be coming later.
Thank you, Ego!
Thank you, whoever sent me that Blue Lock invitation!
Just imagining meeting Arthas made Naruhaya press down on his chest to prevent himself from fainting before the second selection even began.
Ego finished explaining and gestured toward the large door labeled SECOND SELECTION.
"Fight to the end."
The screen cut out.
Players hesitated, still digesting everything.
Then one player stepped forward, grabbed two balls from a cart, placed them on the ground—
BOOM!
A beautiful, flowing arc shot into the sky.
Everyone gasped.
What a gorgeous strike — a high, elegant curve.
Then he kicked the second ball — this time a low-trajectory curve.
The two shots collided perfectly in mid-air.
Everyone except Naruhaya was stunned.
"Open the door. Warm-up is done."
He walked into the door labeled SECOND SELECTION.
Above it, his name flashed:
Itoshi Rin
Gurimu gasped. "Itoshi…? You mean the New-Generation World XI Itoshi!?"
Imamura quickly corrected him. "No, that's Itoshi Sae!"
Gurimu trembled. "Then who IS he…? If there are guys this strong in the second selection… how many more monsters are there?"
Team Z froze.
Then they looked toward the small tyrant warming up near the wall.
"..."
Yeah. Probably fewer monsters than that one.
Somehow… reassuring.
---
Monitoring Room
Ego Jinpachi watched Naruhaya warming up and took a sip of water.
Anri smiled.
"Looks like you really value Player Naruhaya."
Ego stared at Naruhaya on the screen.
"No. I'm simply seeing someone else through him."
"Who?"
"Daigo… Otoshi."
Anri froze.
Daigo Otoshi — Japan's former football jewel.
Six years ago, he abandoned his country and settled in America, taking a new name:
Arthas.
"Anri, do you hate Daigo Otoshi — the man who betrayed Japanese football?"
She nodded, then shook her head.
"If you'd asked me before this year's World Cup, I would've said yes.
A genius like him — what right did he have to abandon his nation and say
'Japan's football is absolute garbage'?
But when I saw him perform his killer-shot football on the World Cup stage… the hatred disappeared.
If he'd stayed in Japan back then, he never could've become what he is now.
Arthas — the strongest shooter in the world.
The most expensive player on Earth.
The creator of the strongest shooting technique in existence — Murderous Football."
After speaking, Anri quickly drank water to calm herself.
Ego's glasses reflected the screen.
"Anri, do you remember the story I told you about 'the baby elephant and the paradise'?"
She nodded.
"I told you that story came from someone who was once bedridden. Do you recall?"
Anri froze again.
Before hearing Arthas's name, she might've thought it was some coach or player Ego knew.
But now… the truth was becoming undeniable.
"Daigo— no, I should call him Arthas.
He once called me from a hospital bed.
He said the modern football world is like an artificial biosphere where the weather is controlled by humans; players are the animals struggling to survive inside it.
Europe, Africa, Asia, North America, South America — five different ecosystems.
Each ecosystem produces different evolutionary paths — dribbling, speed, physicality, defense, etc.
Ordinary animals who can survive become professional players — countless in number.
The animals that attract global attention become football stars — rare, but present in every region.
But the animal that can change the weather itself — past, present, future — there is only one.
Himself.
Arthas of America."
Ego closed his eyes, recalling the conversation through the phone.
Hey, Ego of Japan.
You know something?
Japan's football sucks.
Before leaving, I thought it was only partly rotten.
But it's rotten from the roots.
Weather-controlling pigs (the federation old men obsessed with money).
Bottom-up warm beds (the blind worship of talent).
Comfortable futons (Japan's soft environment — a player survives even without football).
Of course, America's football is trash too — but in a different way.
Here it's drugs, fan-service scandals, outrageous medical bills…
But I'm a noble and a genius, so those things don't affect me.
…Conversation omitted…
Anyway, Ego,
I plan to return to Japan soon.
The call ended.
Ego placed his cup down gently.
"Arthas… where are you now?"