"The Demon King of the Pitch, Yoru Ryoshu."
"And Bachira Meguru, with that freakishly fluid dribbling... I've heard their names before, but this is the first time I've faced them in person." Okawa Hibiki stared at the faint, unreadable smile on Ryoshu's face, feeling an immense weight settle on his shoulders.
A teammate beside him looked confused. "Demon King?"
Okawa nodded grimly. "Rumor has it his dominance during a match is so overwhelming it terrifies his own team. There are stories of players who refuse to be on the same side as him. That's how the title started."
"I've watched his tapes. He's strong... incredibly strong. Especially his finishing."
The members of Team Y fell into a heavy silence.
Hearing Okawa Hibiki—a master finisher himself—admit that someone else's shooting was "strong" was enough to shatter their confidence.
At that moment, Niko Ikki stepped forward. "Stop fantasizing about losing before the whistle even blows," he said quietly. "If we don't play the match, how will we know if we can win?"
"Let's go... let's take them down!"
In an instant, the morale of Team Y, which had been flagging, was restored. Niko offered a small, sharp smile as his gaze drifted toward Ryoshu's tall silhouette. The Demon King? I hope the reality matches the title... otherwise, I'll be very disappointed.
The atmosphere in Team Z was noticeably lighter.
The players were laughing and chatting as they took the field; they already had a win under their belts, unlike the opponents who were standing at the edge of the abyss.
On the pitch, Yoru Ryoshu stood over the ball, looking up at the ceiling like a devout believer offering a silent prayer.
The whistle shrieked—the match began!
As per the tactical plan, he was the first to touch the ball. The next second, he exploded forward.
Okawa's pupils contracted. "What kind of monstrous speed is that?!"
He had analyzed Team Z's previous match and knew Ryoshu was fast, but experiencing that oppressive pressure in person was entirely different. I can't stop him alone! Damn it!
He immediately shouted for backup, calling for multiple markers to collapse on Ryoshu.
Ryoshu's lips curled into a smirk—they'd taken the bait. He suddenly decelerated and fired a pass.
Bachira received it cleanly, having been waiting for the service. Isagi sprinted along the flank, his eyes scanning the shifting positions of the players as he calculated the flow.
Bachira's weapon is dribbling... Ryoshu's weapons are speed and power. Their coordination usually involves Bachira breaking through as a lone wolf until he reaches his limit, then passing it off for Ryoshu's long-range strike.
Everything is moving exactly as predicted...
Isagi knew that this wasn't the "All Mine Eleven" rotation they'd discussed; this was a brute-force tactic allowed only by their overwhelming individual weapons. This first goal was meant to be a psychological blow—a declaration of war to crush Team Y's spirit.
Bachira's grin became more manic as two defenders closed in. "Only two of you? I guess I'll just have to go through everyone!"
"Not quite!" Niko's voice cut through the air. "I've analyzed your dribbling. If I'm not mistaken, your next move is to pass to the 'Demon King,' right?"
Bachira blinked, looking at the approaching Niko, but he didn't panic. "Oh? You're sure you've seen it all?"
Just as Niko lunged for the steal, Bachira performed a lightning-fast back-heel pass, sending the ball directly behind him...
Straight into the path of Isagi Yoichi!
That's right... the entire play was looping in my head before we even started.
The 'egoist' solo-play was just a decoy. The real goal is the only thing that matters! Isagi seized the ball, his vision clear. He had already analyzed the defense and knew exactly where the opening was.
"If my calculations are right... you should be right there!"
BOOM!
The ball took flight.
Every eye followed the trajectory as Yoru Ryoshu—who had seemingly vanished after his initial pass—appeared deep inside the penalty area. He was already in position, waiting for the delivery.
While the ball was still mid-air, Ryoshu executed a ferocious High-Altitude Volley.
CRACK!
The sound of the impact echoed through the stadium. The score on the monitor flickered: 0 - 1.
"Great pass, Isagi!" Ryoshu grinned. He'd known the ball would arrive perfectly. Between Bachira's technical skill and Isagi's vision, the service was guaranteed.
"Damn it!" Okawa hissed under his breath. He'd seen the tactical shift, but he hadn't expected them to break through with such raw, unadulterated skill.
Niko walked over and patted Okawa on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We just failed to contain that specific play. It won't happen a second time."
As they walked back to their half, Bachira glanced over at Niko. "Aki... that boy with the bangs seems to know our tactics. If Isagi hadn't been in that specific spot, that ball would have been intercepted."
"But thanks to you, Isagi! I didn't think you'd be watching that closely."
Isagi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I was just processing the information on the pitch and making a judgment. It's mostly thanks to the method Ryoshu taught me."
Ryoshu let out a dry chuckle. "Don't push the credit onto me. Talent is talent; there's no need to be humble. The fact that you reached that spot means you're finally learning how to use your weapon."
"However..." Ryoshu's eyes narrowed as he looked at Niko. "It looks like the other side has someone just like you."
"You mean the boy with the bangs?" Isagi's brow furrowed. He knew exactly what Ryoshu was implying.
Ryoshu nodded. "Our strategy wasn't just 'seen through.' That kid is predicting our movements and adjusting the defense to compensate—just like you did. He has Spatial Awareness, too."
Isagi's heart skipped a beat. A cold wave of dread washed over him. He had always believed this "vision" was his unique edge—the weapon that would allow him to stand alongside geniuses and monsters.
To find someone with the exact same weapon in his very next match... it was terrifying.
"Don't let it get to you," Ryoshu said, offering a rare word of encouragement. He smiled. "Isagi... there is nothing in this world that is truly unique."
"A weapon is just a tool. It's the person using the weapon who decides who rules the pitch."