"Are you really not going to teach him?" Bachira wiped sweat from his brow, glancing at Kunigami methodically kicking the ball across the field.
"This guy's got a beastly physique. If he learns your Volley Shot, he'll become even stronger."
Ryu rolled his eyes, half amused.
"Didn't you agree to this?"
Bachira scratched his head sheepishly.
"Well... I was about to say no. But then I thought… we're all on the same team now, right? Maybe what we teach each other today will help us win tomorrow."
Ryu smirked faintly, letting the words hang in the air.
His gaze swept the field—a collage of players locked in their battles with the ball. Each carving out their edge, their weapon.
Isagi still struggled with spatial awareness, his eyes not yet trained to read the chaos fully. Kunigami's technique was stiff and rigid—like his personality. Bachira's dribbling was wild and unpredictable, a double-edged sword.
As for the rest—Chigiri, Little Monk—none yet showed the offensive power to tip a real match's scales.
Ryu sighed and stepped onto the field, Bachira trailing behind with a bright grin.
"Hey," Ryu called behind Kunigami, who nearly stumbled mid-kick.
Kunigami turned, a hint of fatigue in his eyes.
Ryu sat down on the grass, motioning for Kunigami to join.
The younger man hesitated.
"I'm not on break yet."
Ryu's voice was calm but firm.
"Do you think this training is effective?"
Kunigami frowned, ball at his feet, confused.
Ryu continued,
"Repeating the same drills builds muscle memory, sure. But on the ever-changing pitch, relying too heavily on one weapon can become your weakness. It can shake your confidence."
He looked Kunigami straight in the eye.
"If you agree, then sit."
After a pause, Kunigami slowly lowered himself beside Ryu.
Silence fell.
Ryu gestured toward the sweating players relentlessly practicing.
"Do you think their training is enough?"
Kunigami glanced toward Yoichitaking shots, Little Monk chasing passes.
"They all have potential. Each one's a forward—a player who's already proven something."
Ryu's voice softened.
"But a weapon… a true weapon isn't just what you're good at."
He pointed at Bachira, flashing his cocky grin nearby.
"This guy's weapon? Spectacular goals—the ones that make everyone's eyes light up."
"Dribbling?" Bachira interrupted.
Ryu jabbed a finger sharply to his forehead.
"No. Scoring isn't just skill."
"It's selfishness."
"Isn't that why you want to learn my Volley Shot?"
"To shine brighter on the field. To score goals so unforgettable they turn the world upside down."
"That's selfishness."
"When it meets your skill, your weapon, then you become a real player."
Kunigami stroked his chin, slowly understanding.
"So… I'm missing something?"
"I don't think I have a problem. I want to master my skills perfectly. Even if I fail on the pitch, it's on my terms."
"If I want to grow stronger, I must learn more."
Ryu smiled, eyes sharp as daggers.
"If that's what you think, then I have nothing more to say."
He patted Kunigami's back and stood.
"But that Volley Shot needs flexibility."
"Your body isn't built for it."
"You'd be better off focusing on long-range fixed-point shots."
Kunigami fell silent, clearly contemplating the words.
Bachira chuckled beside Ryu.
"Wow, you're talking a lot today."
"Is his potential really that high?"
Ryu nodded.
"Kunigami's endurance is insane. He can bulldoze through the field with strength and stamina. With the right training, he'll climb far."
"But I told him to ditch what won't work."
Bachira smirked.
Days later, the players pushed their limits, their bodies honed to peak condition.
In the dormitory, the screen flickered on again.
Ego Jinpachi appeared, casually slurping instant noodles with a grin.
"Well, well… Looks like all you star players have been busy."
He set down the bowl, eyes gleaming.
"But now, break's over."
An image of five teams filled the screen.
"Here's the next challenge—a selection match. Only the top two teams advance."
Raichi snarled, teeth flashing like a shark's.
"All forwards? How's that supposed to work?!"
Ego's grin widened, unfazed.
"Back in football's infancy, positions didn't exist. Scoring was all that mattered."
"I want you to erase everything you know."
"Forget the old game; imprint new concepts—new styles."
"Because this isn't just football anymore."
"This is survival."
Ryu's grin sharpened.
A new hero, huh?
Or just a battlefield where only the strongest survive.
The match list glowed on the screen:
Team X vs. Team Z.
The next round of elimination was about to begin.
To Be Continued…