Meanwhile—
After the first semi-final, the Neo Egoist League Final reached its climax.
–––
GOOOAAL!!
"The final of Neo Egoist League!!"
"The one who scored the final goal is—
ISAGI YOICHI!!"
"And in that moment,
FC BAYERN CLAIMS TOTAL VICTORY!!!"
The roar swallowed everything.
On the pitch—
Michael Kaiser didn't move.
Then—
He slammed his fist into the ground.
Hard.
"…No."
Grass tore beneath his fingers.
His vision blurred.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
He came to this insignificant league for one reason—
To prove his worth.
To raise his value.
To force the biggest clubs in the world—
To notice him.
To reach the level of monsters like Noel Noa.
And yet—
He lost.
Lost…
To him?
"A nobody…"
Kaiser's voice cracked under his breath.
"…a loser…"
"…So what does that make me…?"
Footsteps approached.
Calm.
Measured.
Isagi Yoichi.
The stadium was still roaring his name.
But he didn't look at the crowd.
He looked down at Kaiser.
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then—
He extended his hand.
Kaiser didn't take it.
Isagi's eyes glowed—sharp, calculating… alive.
Like he had just solved something no one else could see.
"…It's over."
His voice was quiet.
Cold.
"The deal."
A slight tilt of his head.
"You said one goal would decide it."
A pause.
"So this is the result."
Kaiser's jaw tightened.
Isagi's lips curled—just slightly.
Not joy.
Not arrogance.
Something worse.
Understanding.
"…Thanks for your hard fucking work."
A beat.
"MY FINEST CLOWN."
Silence.
The roar of the stadium felt distant now.
Because for Kaiser—
Everything had just changed.
–––
The Neo Egoist League had ended.
But its impact—
Was just beginning.
Across the world—
Screens replayed the final goal.
Again.
And again.
"A new generation is rising…"
"Blue Lock produces monsters?"
"Or just another overhyped system?"
Some called them prodigies.
Some called it luck.
Some asked the only question that mattered—
"Can they survive in Europe?"
–––
For the first time in months—
Silence.
No whistles.
No pressure.
No Ego.
Just home.
Isagi stood in his room.
The same room.
Same desk.
Same walls.
But everything felt different.
"…I won."
He whispered it.
Not loudly.
Not proudly.
Just—
To confirm it was real.
Elsewhere—
Bachira laughed as his mother hugged him tightly.
"You've gotten stronger, My baby monster."
He grinned.
"Of course I did."
Rin stood in silence.
No celebration.
No warmth.
–––
Cameras flashed.
Voices overlapped.
The world was watching.
And then–
He appeared.
Ego Jinpachi
Silence fell instantly.
"Congratulations," Ego said flatly.
"No—"
A pause.
"Congratulations for surviving."
The room stiffened.
"Because from this point on—"
His eyes sharpened.
"You are no longer diamonds in the rough."
"You've grown."
"Enough for the world to notice you."
"But whether you can shine…"
"…that depends on you."
A screen lit up behind him.
U-20 WORLD CUP — JAPAN
Murmurs spread.
Shock.
Excitement.
Fear.
Ego smirked slightly.
"This is your stage."
Elsewhere in a media conference Anri Teieri officially declared that the U20 world cup will officially host in Japan.
–––
Later—
Inside the facility.
Eleven names were called.
Rin.
Isagi.
Shido.
Baro.
Bachira.
Chigiri.
Reo.
Kunigami.
Otoya.
Aiku.
Karasu.
A table.
Eleven envelopes.
For the top Eleven players of Blue lock.
Inside—
Tickets.
La Liga Final.
Champions League Final.
Confusion filled the room.
Barou frowned.
"What is this supposed to mean?"
Ego stepped forward.
"This—"
A pause.
"Is education."
He looked at them one by one.
"You've learned how to survive here."
"But out there…"
A faint grin.
"You're nothing."
Silence.
"You will watch."
"You will analyze."
"And you will understand—"
"What real football looks like."
Isagi's eyes sharpened.
Ego turned away.
"And if you can't keep up—"
A final glance.
"Then you were never meant to stand on that stage."
Silence filled the room.
But this time—
It wasn't fear.
It was hunger.
–––
The room was dark.
No chatter.
No movement.
Only the faint hum of a screen coming to life.
At the front—
Ego Jinpachi stood with a stack of discs in his hand.
"Sit."
No one questioned it.
Eleven players.
One room.
One screen.
Ego placed the discs down on the table.
"UEFA Champions League."
A pause.
"Semi-final. Both legs."
Silence deepened.
"This," he said, voice flat,
"is what waits for you outside."
The screen flickered.
Play.
The match exploded instantly.
Speed.
Precision.
Violence in movement.
A pass split the defense.
A run—perfectly timed.
Jude Bellingham.
Goal.
The room froze.
"…He wasn't even there a second ago," Isagi muttered.
Rin's eyes narrowed.
"…No."
"He was always there."
Baro clicked his tongue.
"Tch. Lucky positioning."
Reo didn't look convinced.
"That's not luck…"
"…that's calculation."
Ego said nothing.
The footage shifted.
Left wing—
Vinícius Júnior.
One defender.
Gone.
Second—
Gone.
Chigiri leaned forward unconsciously.
"…That acceleration…"
Bachira grinned.
"Monster."
Karasu leaned back.
"…No wasted movement."
The ball rolled into space.
Karim Benzema.
Touch.
Shift.
Finish.
Goal.
Silence.
Aiku exhaled slowly.
"…He didn't even rush."
Otoya ran a hand through his hair.
"So composed…"
Shido mirked.
"He waited…"
"…just to kill it clean."
A solo run.
A defender—
Gone.
Another—
Gone.
Then—
The strike.
The net screamed.
Cassian.
The room didn't move.
No one spoke.
Not because they didn't understand—
But because they did.
Isagi's eyes widened.
"…What… was that?"
Baro stood up slightly.
"…He forced it."
The replay rolled again.
And again.
Cassian's movements.
His decisions.
His presence.
Not reacting.
Not adapting.
Controlling.
Bachira laughed softly.
"…That's fun."
Chigiri clenched his fists.
"…He's fast."
Reo whispered—
"…No…"
"…He's inevitable."
The screen flashed—
Quick cuts.
Kylian Mbappé — speed tearing through lines.
Lamine Yamal — impossible angles.
Jamal Musiala — control in chaos.
Different styles.
Same result.
Dominance.
–––
Black.
Silence swallowed the room.
Then—
Ego's voice.
"Well?"
No one answered.
Because they couldn't.
Ego turned slowly.
"This is reality."
"You thought you were evolving?"
A faint grin.
"You haven't even begun."
He pointed at the blank screen.
"Those players—"
A pause.
"They are the standard."
Silence tightened.
"And you?"
A step forward.
"You are still crawling."
No one moved.
But something shifted.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Hunger.
Barou smirked.
"…Good."
Rin's eyes sharpened.
"…Then I'll crush them."
Shidou grinned wildly.
"I'll devour them."
Bachira laughed.
"Let's play with them."
Isagi stood.
Quiet.
"…No."
A beat.
"I'll become the one they have to chase."
Silence.
Ego smiled.
"Good."
He tossed the envelopes onto the table.
"Tomorrow night—you leave."
"Spain."
"La Liga Final."
"And then—"
A pause.
"Russia."
"Champions League Final."
His eyes gleamed.
"You will watch."
"You will learn."
"And then—"
A slow grin.
"Try to survive."
The room stayed silent.
But inside—
Every single one of them was burning.
Not with admiration.
Not with respect.
But with something far more dangerous.
The desire to surpass the impossible.