Chapter 22: Great Victory Over Team W
Drop!
The match resumes, and Team Z takes possession.
Isagi Yoichi quickly passes to Yūshin Seiichi, whose eyes scan the field like a high-speed printer, memorizing Team W's formation and player movement frequencies.
"Let's go! For our dream!"
Team W, invigorated by their previous goal, regains a sliver of morale. Their movements grow sharper. Their hunger to score—renewed.
Seiichi quickly relays the ball to Bachira Meguru on the right flank, then bolts forward like a leopard slicing through underbrush, darting past several defenders in an instant.
"Someone stop them!" Tsuchiya's younger brother shouts, racing back to defend.
He has no choice now—this is all or nothing.
Seiichi and Bachira execute a dazzling series of one-twos, gliding forward until they're only five meters from Team W's penalty area.
"You bastard! You're not getting through me!"
Tsuchiya Keisuke braces himself, glaring fiercely.
Seiichi narrows his eyes and takes a long stride with his right foot, baiting Tsuchiya to shift right. Tsuchiya bites, his body twisting to shadow the movement.
But in the very next heartbeat, Seiichi sidesteps with explosive agility, cutting sharply to the left and leaving Tsuchiya behind.
Dammit—he's fast!
"I feel it! Go, egoist!"
Boom!
Bachira swings his right foot up, slicing under the ball. It rises into the air on a perfect arc, curving toward Seiichi's advancing position like it's magnetized.
Step! Seiichi leaps into the air, body poised like a bird mid-flight, fully balanced in midair.
His eyes lock on the ball's trajectory. His right leg extends, tense like a drawn bow.
Bang!
A thunderous volley explodes off his boot.
The ball screams into the goal like a meteor. The goalkeeper doesn't even flinch—he can only watch it blur past his fingertips.
Ding! Goal confirmed.
Team Z: 4 | Team W: 1
"This guy's a freak!" Tsuchiya's younger brother exclaims, stunned. He stares at the ponytailed midfielder in disbelief.
Dribbling, passing, shooting, organizing… is there anything he can't do?
That kind of shot wouldn't be out of place in a pro match.
…
Seiichi… you're like a mountain standing in my way.
Isagi doesn't join the celebration. He simply watches Seiichi from afar, solemn.
His dream is to be the world's greatest striker… yet somehow, Isagi feels relieved that Seiichi only aims to be the best midfielder.
But why? Why does he feel that way?
Is it fear? Is it awe?
The unease brews quietly in his chest.
…
Drop!
Team W restarts play.
"Let's go, brother! No matter what, we have to score one more!"
Tsuchiya Jun'ichi has no more fire in his voice—just quiet resolve. If nothing else, he must help his younger brother stay in the Blue Lock.
The final 10 minutes. Just one goal—that's all they need.
The Crocodile Brothers resume their intricate passing plays. Their rhythm returns.
"Dammit, not again!" Mao Li—Team Z's defender—gets bypassed once more. Desperate, he chases after Jun'ichi with everything he's got.
"You're like sticky tape! That's what I said to my brother," Tsuchiya's younger brother mutters, translating his brother's expression yet again.
Just as Jun'ichi finds breathing room, his brother pushes the ball toward him with the inside of his foot.
Bang!
But before the ball reaches him—
Slide!
Yūshin Seiichi flies in from the flank, executing a textbook sliding tackle with perfect speed and timing.
He snatches the ball cleanly.
Jun'ichi tumbles to the ground, stunned.
"What?! Ref! That's clearly a foul!"
Tsuchiya's brother shouts, but the whistle never comes.
Seiichi doesn't even glance back. If there's no whistle, the hunt continues.
He springs back to his feet, eyes locked ahead, and passes long to Chigiri Hyōma charging up the left wing.
Seiichi rockets after the play like a fired cannonball.
"They're counterattacking! Cut them off now!"
Kuon Wataru yells from the backline, directing Team W's defenders to close in on Chigiri.
They try to hold a 3-meter buffer—close enough to disrupt, but not so close they'll be annihilated by his speed.
But—
"This distance isn't enough."
Chigiri's voice is full of fire.
He flicks the ball up with his toe—whoosh—it flies over the defender.
Then he explodes forward, flames in his gaze, feet blazing across the turf.
Gone in a flash.
Chigiri closes in on the penalty area, defenders flanking from both sides.
He scans the crowd. He has no clean shot.
"Then I'll give someone else the chance!"
Chigiri plants his right foot and strikes with his left—an arcing cross that sails toward the far side of the goal.
"It's too high!"
Bachira Meguru jumps, but it's out of reach.
Kuon Wataru locks onto the landing point.
"This one's mine!"
He leaps, limbs coiled like springs—bounce is his weapon!
But in midair, a shadow eclipses him.
That aura…
BOOM!
Too late.
Yūshin Seiichi crashes through like a hunting eagle, smashing a header toward the lower right corner.
Swish! It flies past the keeper untouched.
Drop!
Team Z: 5 | Team W: 1
"Damn! You're good at headers too?!"
Bachira runs over, jumping on Seiichi's back in amazement.
"Well, of course," Seiichi says smugly. "If necessary, even my butt's a weapon."
The whole team laughs.
Kuon Wataru stares blankly. Did that just happen?
He glances at Seiichi's wristband—Rank 221.
No. Impossible.
Rank 221? This guy?!
How monstrous must the top 227 be?
Kuon shudders.
Even his own best weapon—jumping—was meaningless against Seiichi.
…
As for the rest of Team W, strangely, they no longer feel anger or despair.
Instead, a strange relief washes over them.
They've been beaten—thoroughly—by a true genius. Yūshin Seiichi's presence made them realize: they were never meant to reach the top. Not here.
Not in Blue Lock.
Drop!
Final whistle.
Full-time: Team Z 6 – Team W 1
In injury time, Bachira dribbled past two defenders and curled in one final goal.
"Yeah! We advance!" Youda shouted.
"YES!"
"Well done, everyone!"
"Seiichi, treat us all to steak with your points!"
"…Scram."
Everyone laughed.