Blue Lock: Isagi the egoist

The Santiago Bernabéu stadium was electric. The roar of the crowd reverberated through the stands, a cacophony of chants, cheers, and anticipation. This wasn't just any match—Re Al Madrid was taking on the powerhouse academy Manshine City. All eyes were on Chris Prince, Manshine's golden boy and a legend in the making, but whispers of another name buzzed among the spectators.

Yoichi Isagi.

The 14-year-old prodigy had set the soccer world ablaze with his meteoric rise. His duel with Noel Noa had turned him into a household name, and tonight, against Manshine City, he was determined to cement his place at the top.

As the referee's whistle blew, Manshine City began with their signature flair. Chris Prince was at the helm, exuding confidence as he orchestrated the team's attack. His every movement screamed dominance, and his smirk as he glanced at Isagi said it all: You're good, kid, but you're not me.

Isagi, however, stood unfazed. His sharp gaze scanned the field, calculating every move, every pass, every potential outcome.

Re Al's press was suffocating, with Sae Itoshi controlling the midfield like a maestro, distributing precision passes that broke Manshine's rhythm. It didn't take long for Isagi to strike.

In the 8th minute, Sae lofted a ball over Manshine's defensive line, a perfect through pass that Isagi intercepted mid-sprint. With a single touch, he controlled the ball, his momentum carrying him past Manshine's defenders. Chris Prince, dropping back to cover, charged toward him.

"Not so fast, rookie!" Chris shouted.

Isagi smirked, feinting left before executing a lightning-quick Cruyff turn. Chris stumbled, barely keeping his balance, as Isagi surged forward. One-on-one with Manshine's keeper, Isagi chipped the ball elegantly into the net.

1-0.

The crowd erupted. Isagi didn't celebrate—he simply raised a finger to his temple, striking his trademark thinking pose.

Chris clenched his fists. "Alright, kid. Game on."

Manshine pressed harder, their attack spearheaded by Chris. He attempted to outpace Re Al's defense, weaving past players with his trademark agility. But Isagi was always there, reading every move like a book.

In the 25th minute, Chris unleashed his infamous Knuckle Ball, a shot so unpredictable that even seasoned goalkeepers struggled to stop it.

But Isagi wasn't a goalkeeper.

As the ball curved erratically toward the net, Isagi, positioned at the top of the box, leapt into the air. With perfect timing, he intercepted the shot with his chest, controlling the ball before launching a counterattack.

"Impossible!" Chris muttered, his confidence beginning to waver.

Isagi's counter was ruthless. Dribbling past two defenders, he squared the ball to Sae, who returned it with a perfectly weighted pass. Isagi didn't hesitate, blasting the ball into the top corner.

2-0.

From there, it was a massacre.

3-0: Isagi assisted Sae with a perfectly timed through ball.

4-0: Isagi intercepted a Manshine pass, weaving through defenders before scoring with a trivela shot.

5-0: A dazzling solo run from Isagi left Chris Prince flat-footed as he slotted the ball past the keeper.

6-0: Sae's corner kick found Isagi, who executed a flawless bicycle kick.

7-0: A final nail in the coffin, with Isagi nutmegging Chris before delivering an assist to Re Al's striker.

By the time the final whistle blew, Chris Prince stood in the center of the pitch, his hands on his knees, sweat dripping from his face. He had been utterly dominated, his reputation shattered.

Isagi approached him, his expression calm. "You're strong, Chris. But strength without vision is meaningless."

Chris looked up, his pride wounded but his respect for Isagi undeniable.

In the stands, Ray Dark watched with a predatory grin. "Interesting. The loss to Noa wasn't a setback—it was fuel. This boy... Isagi Yoichi... he's becoming something else entirely."

For Isagi, the night was more than just a victory—it was validation. The world now recognized him as the Number Two, the boy who could rival even the great Noel Noa.

As Isagi left the pitch, his phone buzzed with notifications. Social media was ablaze with his name, the hashtag #IsagiSupremacy trending worldwide. But he didn't care about the noise. His goal was clear.

"I'll surpass them all," he whispered to himself, a determined grin spreading across his face.

And somewhere in Germany, Noel Noa watched the match highlights with a faint smile. "Not bad, Isagi. Not bad at all."