Japan didn't panic.
Panic is for amateurs. It's for high school teams that see a monster and scream. The Blue Samurai saw a monster, categorized it, and dismantled it.
Taro, the Japanese captain, stood over the ball. He watched Vincent Drake screaming at Soccer about angles.
"Interesting," Taro said calmly to his Vice-Captain. "They rely on high-velocity redirection. Like billiards."
"It's fast, Cap. Too fast to track."
"It requires hard surfaces," Taro noted. "A ball only bounces off a hard wall. If the wall is soft... the energy dies."
Taro raised a hand. Two fingers up.
Protocol: Marshmallow.
Restart.
The Blue Lock 5 (that's what Titan called them now) surged forward.
"Again!" Vincent roared. "Load the cannon!"
Silas passed the ball to Vincent.
Vincent wound up. He aimed a rocket pass at Kai Rivers on the wing. A bullet intended to bounce off Kai's golden boot.
BOOM.
The ball screamed through the air.
Kai prepped his heel. "Send it!"
But the ball never arrived.
A Japanese midfielder stepped into the path.
He didn't stiffen his muscles to block it. He didn't brace.
He exhaled.
He caught the 80mph ball on his chest, collapsing backward as it hit him. He absorbed the impact like a sponge soaking up water.
The ball hit his chest and... dropped. Dead.
No bounce. No ricochet. No chaos.
Just silence.
The Japanese player turned and passed casually to Taro.
"Energy absorption," Silas realized, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "They're playing with soft physics. They killed the vector."
"They killed the vibe!" Soccer corrected, hopping on his titanium ankle.
Japan counter-attacked.
They weren't flashy. They were water torture.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Pass. Pass. Pass.
They worked the ball around the frantic Americans. Vincent chased one, got spun. Kai refused to chase. Silas was doing geometry equations in his head but forgot to move his feet.
Japan reached the box.
Taro was one-on-one with the last line of defense.
Zero.
The Void stood on the line. Arms hanging loose. White hair obscuring his eyes.
Taro shot. A curler aimed for the top right.
Zero didn't dive.
He vanished.
One second he was center. The next, he was in the top corner.
He didn't punch the ball away. He caught it.
One hand. Mid-air.
He landed on his feet like a cat, holding the ball palm-down.
"Nothing escapes," Zero whispered to the grass.
He threw the ball to Soccer.
"Fix the strategy," Zero ordered. "They are boring me."
The Midfield Conference.
The five monsters huddled while the Japanese reset.
"They aren't bouncing," Vincent growled, spitting on the turf. "They're catching my shots. It's annoying."
"They neutralized the Ricochet," Silas said. "If we try it again, turnover probability is 95%."
"So we dribble?" Kai suggested.
"No," Soccer looked at the pristine blue wall of the Japanese defense. "They hunt alone. We can't dribble alone."
Soccer tapped his chin.
"Zero caught the ball," Soccer mused. "Because he saw it leaving Taro's foot. He calculated the path."
"Obviously," Kai sneered. "Vision is everything."
"What if..." Soccer looked at Vincent's massive back. "What if you can't see the start?"
"What?"
"The Eclipse," Soccer said, grinning. "On the mountain, when the moon blocks the sun... it gets dark fast. You don't see the light until it's too late."
He pointed at Vincent.
"Dragon, you're the Moon. You're huge."
He pointed at Kai.
"Goldilocks, you're the Sun. You shine too bright."
"Don't call me that."
"We hide the ball," Soccer explained rapidly. "Vincent stands in front. Kai shoots from behind Vincent. Use his body as a blind spot. The keeper can't react to what he can't see."
"A screen?" Silas asked. "Simple basketball tactics applied to football. Goalkeeper reaction time delay: 0.4 seconds. It could work."
"I am not a wall," Vincent argued. "I am a weapon."
"You're a weapon of mass obstruction," Soccer poked him. "Do it. Or we lose to the soft boys."
Minute 35. 1-1.
Blue Lock 5 possession.
They moved upfield differently this time.
Vincent Drake didn't run into open space. He ran directly at the Japanese central defender. He parked his massive frame right at the top of the D.
"Move," the defender pushed him.
"Make me," Vincent grinned, rooted like an oak tree.
Soccer brought the ball up the wing.
He cut inside.
"Now!" Soccer yelled.
He passed the ball not to Vincent, but behind him.
Kai Rivers was there. lurking in the Dragon's shadow.
The Japanese goalkeeper crouched. He tried to see the ball. But Vincent Drake—six-foot-three and wide as a fridge—was perfectly in the line of sight.
"I can't see the release!" the keeper shouted.
Kai didn't take a touch.
He wound up.
He aimed a low, bending shot around Vincent's legs.
The Golden Eclipse.
The ball hissed across the turf.
To the keeper, it was invisible until it passed Vincent. By the time he saw the white sphere emerging from the shadow, it was already inside the six-yard box.
Reaction time: Too slow.
The keeper didn't even dive. He just watched it rattle the corner net.
GOAL.
Blue Lock 5: 2 - Japan: 1.
Kai stood with his arms spread, basking in imaginary applause.
"You're welcome," Kai announced.
Vincent turned around and punched Kai in the arm. "You almost hit my ankle, you maniac!"
"Precision, Dragon," Kai smirked. "Something you wouldn't understand."
Soccer bounced over.
"See?" Soccer laughed. "Hide and seek! I love hide and seek!"
Taro watched from the center circle. He wasn't smiling anymore.
"Vision obstruction," Taro murmured. "Crude. Effective."
He clapped his hands once. Sharp.
The Blue Samurai straightened up. The atmosphere on their side changed. It got heavier. Colder.
"Protocol: Soft is over," Taro said.
He rolled his shoulders.
"Protocol: Katana."
Minute 50.
Japan changed gears.
They didn't absorb anymore. They cut.
Taro received the ball. Soccer stepped up to press him.
"I got him!" Soccer used his spring-step to lunge.
Taro didn't dodge. He moved in a diagonal slash line.
The Iaido Step.
He waited until Soccer committed, then sliced through the gap in Soccer's stance with surgical precision. One step. One touch. Gone.
Soccer landed on his titanium foot. He pivoted.
"Fast!" Soccer gasped.
Taro bypassed Silas. He bypassed Vincent.
He was at the edge of the box.
Kai tried to tackle from behind. "Not this time!"
Taro stopped instantly. He let Kai run past him.
Then he chipped the ball.
Not a shot. A pass.
It floated over the defense.
A Japanese striker—Number 9—sprinted out of nowhere.
Volley.
Boom.
GOAL.
Japan: 2 - Blue Lock 5: 2.
Taro picked up the ball. He handed it to Soccer.
"You play games," Taro said quietly. "Eclipse. Pinball. Tricks. We do not play tricks. We practice mastery."
He walked away.
Soccer held the ball. His hands were shaking slightly.
"He's right," Soccer looked at Kai. "They're sharp."
"So we sharpen our teeth," Vincent snarled.
"No," Zero said from the goal line.
The monsters looked back. Zero was hanging from the crossbar doing pull-ups.
"They are sharp because they have one mind," Zero said, dropping down. "We are five fingers on a hand that doesn't know how to make a fist."
"Philosophy again?" Vincent groaned.
"Soccer," Zero pointed a gloved finger. "Your spring. Can you over-load it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maximum compression. More than the cannons."
Soccer looked at his titanium joint. Dr. Klaus said it could handle industrial pressure.
"Maybe," Soccer said. "Why?"
"Because," Zero walked forward. He left his goal area. "I am bored of waiting for them to shoot. I am joining the attack."
"The keeper is joining the attack?!" Silas shouted. "Risk assessment: Suicide!"
"It is only suicide if I die," Zero said calmly. "Vincent. Kai. Make a path. Soccer... load the gun."
Minute 80. 2-2.
The game was deadlocked.
Blue Lock 5 had possession. But Japan's defense was unbreakable.
Then, Zero started running.
The white-haired keeper sprinted out of his box. Past the defense. Past midfield.
"Keeper charge!" Titan yelled from the gantry. "What is he doing?"
Zero ran straight at the Japanese line.
"Pass me the ball," Zero demanded.
Soccer passed it back to him.
Zero controlled it.
The Japanese defense didn't know how to react. A keeper dribbling at midfield? It was disrespect. It was bait.
Two Japanese forwards closed in on Zero.
"Now," Zero said.
He chipped the ball high.
Really high. A skyscraper ball.
It wasn't aimed at the goal. It wasn't aimed at a player.
It was dropping straight down onto the penalty spot.
"Vincent! Kai!" Zero commanded.
The Dragon and the King understood instantly.
They didn't jump for the ball.
They slammed into the two central defenders.
The Twin Crush.
Vincent blocked the left defender. Kai blocked the right. They created a tunnel. A path of empty air right down the middle.
"SOCCER!" Vincent roared.
Soccer was running.
He was running faster than he had ever run. His titanium ankle was humming.
He reached the edge of the box.
The ball was falling.
Soccer planted his left foot.
He stomped. Harder than in The Pit. He heard the synthetic weave whine. Scrrreeee.
He compressed it to critical mass.
He jumped.
The Titanium Rocket.
He launched into the vacuum created by Vincent and Kai.
He went so high his knees were level with the defenders' heads.
The Japanese keeper came out to punch the ball.
Soccer was higher.
He reached the ball at the apex of his leap.
He didn't head it.
He cycled his legs in the air—running on sky.
He Bicycle Kicked it.
Not softly.
With every ounce of power generated by the spring launch.
KABOOM.
The sound echoed off the glass walls.
The ball became a blur.
It tore past the keeper's hands before he could even extend his fingers.
It hit the back of the net. The force was so great it lifted the goal frame off the back stakes.
GOAL.
Blue Lock 5: 3 - Japan: 2
Soccer landed.
His ankle sparked. Actual sparks. Friction heat.
He rolled over, laughing.
"We made a fist!" Soccer yelled, pointing at Zero, who was casually jogging back to his empty goal.
"An inefficient fist," Silas noted, adjusting his glasses. "But functionally adequate."
Vincent and Kai helped Soccer up.
"You jump high, Savage," Kai admitted, wiping dirt off his face. "Too high."
"Only because you cleared the rocks," Soccer patted Kai's gold jersey.
Final Whistle.
They won.
A team of strangers, egoists, and monsters had beaten the U-18 Japanese National Team.
Coach Titan stood on the gantry. He smiled. A cruel, satisfied smile.
"Evaluation complete," Titan spoke into the mic.
The screen lit up.
CONGRATULATIONS.
BLUE LOCK 5.
YOU ARE NO LONGER PROVISIONAL.
WELCOME TO THE U-18 NATIONAL TEAM.
NEXT DESTINATION: PARIS.
THE WORLD YOUTH CUP.
The boys stood in the center circle. Breathing hard. Bleeding a little.
"Paris?" Soccer asked. "Is that where the French fries live?"
"Yes," Silas sighed. "It is also where the Number 1 player in the world lives."
"Who?"
Silas tapped his tablet. A picture appeared on the massive screen.
A boy with blonde hair and eyes like shattered glass. Wearing the blue jersey of France.
NOEL NOA.
Status: The Prodigy.
Ability: Complete Perfection.
Kai Rivers stiffened. "Noa..."
"You know him?" Soccer asked.
"He beat me," Kai whispered. The arrogance drained from his face, replaced by pure trauma. "Last year. 10-0. He didn't even run. He destroyed my entire team while walking."
Soccer looked at the face on the screen.
Perfection. Complete Perfection.
"He looks clean," Soccer noted.
He looked down at his own dirty, scarred hands. At Vincent's bruised arm. At Zero's muddy gloves.
"Perfect things are fragile," Soccer said. "They break if you drop them."
He bounced on his titanium foot.
Boing.
"Let's go to Paris," Soccer grinned. "I want to drop him."