The screen hadn't even gone dark yet.
Jinpachi Ego's image reappeared, hands spreading wide like a conductor of madness.
"The five teams will compete in a round-robin inside this building."
"The top two teams with the most points will advance."
A pause.
"As for the three teams that fall… there's still a chance."
"Top Scorer. Even if your team loses, the player who scores the most goals can still move forward."
"Both team and individual scores matter."
"The choice before you is not just positional chaos—but a collision of selfish wills."
"A battle to recreate soccer itself from the ground up."
"Enjoy the challenge."
"The first match begins in two hours."
The screen finally flickered off.
But Ego's words lingered, crawling like static through the lounge air.
Nobody moved.
No one spoke.
Ryu scanned the room.
Some eyes shone with realization.
Others? Confusion.
Simple.
Score goals. That's all.
Then Kuyon—the strategist, eyes always half-lidded like a plotting hawk—leaned forward.
His voice cut through the silence, slow and deliberate.
"So… Have you all decided your roles?"
"We are a team now."
"Not everyone can be a forward."
"Someone has to sacrifice."
Then his gaze locked on Ryu.
It wasn't subtle.
He wanted to build around him—crown Ryu the spearhead and ride his firepower forward.
Even Raichi, usually a firecracker ready to explode at anything, crossed his arms and nodded.
They all knew.
As long as Ryu was on the pitch, their odds of survival skyrocketed.
And Ryu?
He just smiled—slight, cold, deliberate.
Exactly as planned.
Shine bright enough… and even selfish players start orbiting you.
Because power grants freedom.
Kuyon started handing out the formation cards.
"I'll be the anchor," he muttered, barely hiding his reluctance.
"Iemon, you're in goal."
Iemon groaned, slipping on his gloves like a man preparing for execution.
"I hate this job…"
They were all forwards.
All prideful warriors.
And now, some of them had to play defense?
Two hours later.
The first match began.
Ryu Sanada led the ragtag squad onto the field.
From the opposite side, a figure stepped forward—and for a moment, the world slowed.
Their eyes met.
And the field shifted.
Barou Shouei.
The "King of the Field."
Cunning. Cold. Disciplined. A lone wolf in a crown.
Where Ryu devoured chaos, Barou Shouei dissected it.
No words were exchanged—only stares.
Challenges launched. Wills clashed. Pride ignited.
"All fouls will be monitored by VAR."
"Serious offenses lead to immediate disqualification."
"Two 45-minute halves."
"X Team versus Z Team… begin!!"
The whistle pierced the air.
Ryu tapped the ball to Bachira, who caught it smoothly, that familiar wild grin curling his lips.
"Here comes the Demon King."
"Let's see who survives the madness."
Opponents rushed in—but Bachira danced between them with gleeful, hypnotic dribbles.
Then—he froze.
Swipe.
The ball was stolen—not by the enemy.
By a teammate.
Little Monk grinned like a thief caught red-handed.
"Only the goal scorer gets the spotlight, right?"
"So… no matter the plan, only one becomes the hero!"
He took off, trying to dribble past a defender—
CRASH.
Knocked flat.
Kunigami towered over him, ball already at his feet.
"I'll win fair and square."
Raichi growled, stealing the ball a second later.
"None of you have the guts to finish?"
"Then I'll do it myself!"
Kuyon sighed, clearly irritated.
"Formation… strategy… Do those words mean nothing to you?"
But the damage was done.
Chaos erupted.
Players stealing from teammates.
Formations collapsed.
Passes ignored.
Even the opposing team looked stunned.
Teammates… Stealing from teammates?!
At the center of the storm stood Ryu Sanada.
Still.
Watching.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips.
Now this is interesting.
Soccer from scratch.
I thought I knew the plot… But this reality is far more savage.
Suddenly—he moved.
Like a thunderclap across the pitch.
Ryu tore through the chaos, body low, movements efficient.
The ball found him.
Of course it did.
And when it did, he looked unstoppable.
His gaze swept the field.
No teammates.
No friends.
Only obstacles.
"All of you..."
"Get out of my way."
"A bunch of insignificant insects."
Then—
He looked up.
And met Baro's eyes.
For a heartbeat, the whole stadium held its breath.
Baro stepped forward, cold fire in his eyes.
Ryu's grin widened.
"You're just like them."
"If they're ants…"
"Then you're just a slightly bigger bug."
To Be Continued…