Blue Lock: Beyond Greatness

"Haah... haah..." Heavy breaths echoed across the field. The eyes of the Rebel Team were filled with murderous intent. At this moment, they were like starving wolves pushed to the brink. Their only choice was to fight to the death!

Beep— Beep!

The whistle mercilessly blew, leaving no time for hesitation or tactical discussion.

Reiji charged forward with the ball, but the opposing team remained relentless.

Chigiri lunged at Reiji, using his body to obstruct his movement, cutting off Reiji's signature weapon of dribbling while stopping. "Try it again if you dare! This time, I'll stop you for sure!"

"Damn it, he's clinging on tight!" Reiji struggled to maneuver with the ball.

Chigiri, like a ravenous beast, refused to let go of his prey.

Even when Reiji managed to create brief gaps, Chigiri would immediately pounce back to block him.

The rest of the team couldn't find an opening either.

There was no space for a pass, and the game seemed to be at a stalemate.

For the Rebel Team, a stalemate was akin to a slow death.

Their patience was running thin, and if Shinichi decided to step in...

"I'm here!" The sudden shout came from Barou on the other side.

Reiji turned and locked eyes with Barou's determined gaze. Gritting his teeth, he passed the ball.

"Hah, that guy just made a terrible move," Raichi sneered as he moved to block. "Once the ball gets to your hands, it'll never get passed again, right, Fake King?"

"Even someone like you can admit you're at the bottom. Do you think I don't have the courage to admit the same?" Barou's eyes burned with fury. "I've already died once. To climb back up, I'll do whatever it takes!"

Under everyone's stunned gaze, Barou delivered a precise long pass to Haiji. "Move it! Get going!"

Barou's sudden transformation revitalized the Rebel Team's strategy.

With his exceptional physical abilities, he excelled in both movement and physical confrontations.

The smooth ball circulation continuously disrupted Shinichi's defensive setup, but they still faced one final obstacle.

"That's enough. Your struggle ends here," Shinichi said, stepping in front of Barou, who had just received the ball. "This is your last chance to act. Think carefully."

Damn it, what should I do? This is the last chance... Barou's thoughts raced.

According to those guys, passing forward won't work. But passing backward to reorganize? No way!

Shinichi would definitely step in—hey, you bastard!

At this critical moment, Yukimiya suddenly surged out from Barou's blind spot, forcefully snatching the ball from under his feet.

Without hesitation, he pushed Barou into Shinichi to block his movement.

Ignoring Barou's curses, Yukimiya's entire focus was on the goal ahead.

"I must win this match... I... don't have any time left."

With a powerful kick from his right leg, Yukimiya launched the ball.

It was farther than his usual limit, but he had no other choice.

Yet as the ball left his foot, an indescribable feeling arose within him—this shot felt better than any he'd ever made in practice.

At this moment, Yukimiya had truly surpassed his limits.

"Go!" Yukimiya's gaze locked onto the rapidly spinning ball flying toward the goal.

He silently roared, pouring all his hope into the small ball.

But in the next instant, the light in his eyes dimmed.

"Why... why are you there..."

"Kanzaki Shinichi!"

Shinichi didn't hear Yukimiya's desperate cries, but even if he had, he wouldn't have cared.

Sprinting at full speed, Shinichi positioned himself in front of the goal, raising his left leg to meet the rapidly incoming ball.

It was as if all the spin Yukimiya had painstakingly applied to the ball was a mere illusion.

The moment the ball touched Shinichi's leg, it lost all its momentum, stopping obediently at the tip of his foot, completely under his control.

"No... stop... stop it!" Yukimiya scrambled toward Shinichi, practically crawling, his face twisted in near-begging desperation. "I just need... one chance..."

"Pathetic." Shinichi's cold eyes showed no trace of sympathy as he gazed at Yukimiya's miserable state.

With a quick flick, he shifted the ball and, as Yukimiya's balance wavered, Shinichi accelerated past him in one fluid motion, using Yukimiya's own technique to evade him.

The defeated Yukimiya collapsed helplessly to the ground, unable to resist.

"I told you, your struggle ends here," Shinichi said, his voice icy. "Stop making me repeat myself."

Boom!

Beep— Beep!

Shinichi's team: 5

Rebel Team: 0

The familiar roar of the crowd echoed across the field, signaling the end of the match.

"Damn it! Damn it!" Yukimiya slammed his fist into the ground in frustration, lifting his head to glare at Shinichi's radiant figure.

Envy, jealousy, longing, resentment, and despair churned in his heart.

"If only it weren't for my eyes... why... why is this happening to me?"

"I've done nothing wrong!"

"Why has God cursed me with this burden..."

As if sensing Yukimiya's gaze, Shinichi paused on his way back after scoring.

He looked down, coldly observing the defeated figure sprawled in the dirt.

"Don't think it's unfair, mediocre talent." Shinichi's dark eyes seemed to pierce through Yukimiya's innermost thoughts, his words striking precisely at the last shred of pride Yukimiya clung to. "With your abilities, even if we swapped eyes, you'd still be the one kneeling here."

"You're right—you haven't done anything wrong. But at the same time, have you done anything truly remarkable or worth lamenting?"

"!"

"Only someone like Derrick Rose, the youngest MVP in history who fell from grace due to injury, can truly evoke sympathy and have the right to bemoan their misfortune."

"Others, who failed for various reasons without contributing anything significant, don't even have the right to blame their failures on bad luck. After all, there are countless people in this world far more unfortunate than you." As he said this, Shinichi's gaze flickered briefly toward Chigiri.

"You grew up in a well-off family, with good looks to boot. You're already luckier than the vast majority of people. The misfortune you speak of? It's nothing more than your lack of resolve to truly fight for your destiny."

"If you had really given it your all, why haven't you tried joining the youth programs of the top five leagues by this age?"

"If you believe you have what it takes to be the world's best striker, you could've showcased your talent there, just like Sae Itoshi."

"Why do you remain stuck in this small island nation? After all, as long as you perform well, there are plenty of people willing to invest in you."

"Or what about working part-time to support yourself?"

"With your looks, you could easily land modeling gigs for magazines. Balancing work and football practice wouldn't take up much time."

"Once you've saved enough money, you could undergo surgery to restore your eyesight—or even take out a loan. After all, if you're confident in becoming a top player, repaying it shouldn't be a problem. So why haven't you done any of this?"

"Look, in just a moment, I've laid out several possibilities for you. Given that you know your own situation better than anyone else, you should have even more options. So why is it that I see no trace of effort on you? Or is it that..."

Shinichi walked up to Yukimiya, who lay face down on the ground, and crouched beside him.

His pitch-black eyes bore into Yukimiya, as if dissecting every thought buried deep within his soul.

"Or is it... that you're unwilling to truly commit to change? You refuse to give up your current life, yet you dream of some miraculous cure falling into your lap. All the while, you complain about your misfortune and fantasize about how amazing your life could be if your condition didn't exist."

"Shut up..." Yukimiya's voice trembled.

"Heh, you're no different from those lazy fools who don't study, yet during exams, dream about how they'd easily surpass the top students if they had only worked harder."

"Please... stop..." Yukimiya pleaded, his voice breaking.

"Or maybe deep down, you already believe you lack the talent to become the world's best. You use your illness as an excuse, numbing yourself and immersing in a dream where you're progressing toward greatness."

"Don't..."

"Then let me shatter that illusion for you. Even if your so-called misfortune hadn't happened, you'd still be kneeling before me, unable to meet my eyes. Because that's who you are—a fragile ship built on fantasy. The moment you set sail into the vast sea you admire, you'd be destroyed, just like now."

"Please... I beg you... stop talking..." Yukimiya clenched his eyes shut, burying his face into the grass. His hands covered his ears as he prostrated himself, desperately trying to block out Shinichi's relentless words.

"Pathetic." Shinichi stood, brushing off his hands, his interest in Yukimiya completely gone.

He delivered his final judgment with cold indifference.

"Your condition isn't even terminal. If something as treatable as an eye disorder can derail your dreams, then those dreams were never worth much to begin with."

"In the end, you're just another fool blaming your mediocrity on bad luck. Someone who's done nothing exceptional, yet deludes themselves into believing they've tried hard enough, only to claim they were simply born in the wrong era."

"Of course, if we're pointing out faults, you're not entirely blameless."

"Your only mistake in this life... was being born in the same era as me."

...

Chigiri silently watched as Shinichi, radiating an overwhelming dominance, destroyed a once-confident player with just one match.

He retracted his earlier assessment of the man.

"This guy isn't some friendly or kind-hearted person... He's the most terrifying existence in this Blue Lock."

"The Tyrant of the Field—Kanzaki Shinichi."

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