Using the insights he'd gained from constantly observing the pitch, Isagi Yoichi quickly mapped out positions for everyone. The only difficult choice was the goalkeeper. It came down to Iemon, who had been filling the role, or Gagamaru.
In the end, they settled on Gagamaru Gin.
His weapon was his explosive "Springiness" and jumping ability—traits much better suited for a keeper than Iemon's generalist skills. Before this, they had just been a group of strikers throwing themselves at the ball; now, with a proper screening process, the formation actually looked functional.
Except for the one person who was still fast asleep, the members of Team Z finally knew exactly where they would stand in the next match.
"Everyone has a weapon," Kuon Wataru said, looking over the chart. "But a weapon is useless if you don't know how to activate it on the pitch. We have to bring these tools to life."
"The allocation is fine on paper..." Kuon paused, his expression turning serious. "But looking at the big picture, we're still just a collection of individuals."
The others looked at him. Raichi still looked annoyed—he hadn't quite forgiven Kuon for stealing his ball in the last game.
Isagi rubbed his chin, staring at his sketch. "He's right. On paper, the configuration is perfect, but the fundamental problem remains: we are all strikers. If we just attack whenever we feel like it, like we did in the first half of the last game..."
"We'll just tear each other apart again. We might even lose."
Isagi turned to Kuon. "Do you have a suggestion?" He knew Kuon had a sharp tactical mind; after all, Kuon had been the first to pivot to Aki when the team was in trouble. He was a survivor who knew how to pick a side.
Kuon thought for a few seconds. "How about this... let me handle the tactical flow."
Isagi handed over the notebook. For the next several minutes, Kuon was a blur of scribbles and lines, completely immersed in tactical permutations.
Finally, Kuon looked up. "I call this strategy: 'The All Mine Eleven.'"
Aki, listening from the side, felt an involuntary urge to groan. That name is so tacky, he thought.
[Hahaha! A genius! A true naming genius has appeared!] [Who let this guy near a pen? I object! This is a crime against literature!] [...]
The time for the next match drew near.
On the training pitch, the team ran drills based on Kuon's new strategy. With a designated commander, the internal bickering had noticeably decreased. Aside from Raichi occasionally trying to shoulder Kunigami off the ball, everyone was sticking to their assigned roles.
"So boring," Aki muttered, lying back on the artificial turf. He felt a growing headache. He craved the high of a real match—the adrenaline of the slaughter. Training felt like a waste of the time he could be using to get stronger.
Isagi walked over and sat down beside him. "Mind if I sit here?"
Aki glanced at him, noting the heavy thoughts written all over Isagi's face. He smirked. "Suit yourself. But I'm guessing you didn't come over here just to enjoy the view. You've got questions."
Isagi hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I... I want to ask how you view individual abilities. In the last match, you said I used my ability to steal the ball from you. You clearly saw something I didn't. I want to know what it is."
"There's a price," Aki replied immediately, his eyes half-closed.
"A price?" Isagi blinked, caught off guard.
Aki let out a dry chuckle. "You didn't think I'd give away secrets for free, did you? If you're looking for charity, you're in the wrong building."
Isagi went silent. "I... I don't have anything to give you." He only had natto to eat every day; it wasn't like he could offer a bribe. He certainly couldn't offer money in a place like this.
Aki thought about it for a few seconds. "I have an idea. If you agree, I'll tell you."
"What is it?" Isagi asked, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine.
"Be my shadow. Act as my personal support."
Isagi's eyes widened. Being "support" was a death sentence for a striker's pride. It meant passing the ball instead of shooting.
"I..." Just as he was about to refuse, Isagi thought about the confidence he'd arrived with—and how it had been systematically dismantled since he got here. He was desperate. He couldn't leave Blue Lock without learning how to survive.
Isagi tightened his fists. "Fine. I'll support you... but only for the next match!"
Aki sat up, his crimson eyes locking onto Isagi's. He looked amused. "You're quite the obedient one, aren't you? I like that."
"Have you ever heard that a person's vision isn't just in their eyes? To see the information the world is sending you, the eyes are just the lens."
"What do you mean?" Isagi asked, leaning in.
"Your weapon is Spatial Awareness—or more accurately, Information Processing," Aki explained. "By constantly observing the periphery, your eyes feed raw data into your brain. Your mind then weaves that data into a chain of events."
"The end of that chain is the goal. You intercepted me because you processed the 'information' of the pitch and predicted where the ball had to drop. Do you understand now?"
Isagi's mind began to race at a frantic speed. It was like a new world had been unlocked. That feeling... that sensation of the whole pitch being visible at once... he'd felt it. He'd felt where the "answer" was.
That was "Information"?
The ripples on the pitch were variables that he could use to solve the equation for a goal. This is my ability?
Aki interrupted his thoughts. "Don't overthink it yet. A weapon like that needs to be forged. It won't work perfectly overnight, especially for a rookie like you."
Isagi gave a sheepish laugh. He couldn't really argue with that. In Aki's eyes, he really was just a fledgling.
They sat in silence for a while until Isagi couldn't help but ask one more thing.
"Hey, Aki... why did you come here?"
"Bachira told me you're already incredibly strong. You could have easily made it into the national team selection through the normal routes... you didn't need to come here and fight us for a spot."
Aki lay back down and stared at the ceiling, his eyes slowly closing. "To get stronger. Does that count?"