𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 遊ぶか死ぬか || 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊

𝐕. 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐧

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 boys, who were excellent strikers of Japan, but nobody could unnerve her. Several gazes were directed at her, not because she looked godly-handsome (she did), but because nobody knew her. She walked past them to the front. She heard several whispers that were saying the same thing—
"Who the hell is he?"
"I have never seen him in any tournament."
"But I thought only talented players were selected."
Unexpectedly, the lights went off. There was cluttering everywhere. Everyone started to mutter. Then, they heard a voice. A voice Siera knew all too well: the voice of Jinpachi Ego.

"Congratulations, diamonds in the rough," he said in his usual ominous voice. The spotlight plunged on him, and he looked the same as the day he had come to her house. "You are the 300 eighteen-and-under strikers who have chosen according to my arbitrary and biased decision thinking," he said, thin-lipped with an ominous look. "And I am Ego Jinpachi, the man hired to make Japan wins the World Cup." There were noises of shock and mockery. Japan winning the the World Cup? Impossible.

It was authentic that Siera lived nearly her whole life in the United States, but she was born in Japan and moved to the USA at the age of five but didn't accept US citizenship, so she still was Japanese. Playing for Japan sounded challenging after their macabre loss at the World Cup. After playing soccer for almost eleven years, starting at five, she felt ethereal playing for her home country. 

"Simply put, there's one thing Japanese soccer needs to become the best in the world: The birth of a revolutionary striker," he declared with remarkable decisiveness. Siera grinned. The man was deathly solemn. This Bluelock would be a challenge, and she just loved a challenge. "I'll be experimenting here to turn you, 300, into the world's best striker. And that's what this facility is for," he said, pointing to the screen behind him, which displayed the logo 'BLUE LOCK'. He started going on about the nuances which she already knew.

Siera ran her hands through her hair, disarraying it. It felt lekker to have short hair; it was hassle-free. Abruptly, somebody pushed her aside. A loftier, a slenderer figure stood in front of her. He had dark green locks with a bang going across his face. Before she could confront him, he strolled away. She rolled her eyes and zoned out for some tranquillity.

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Author's Note: Hello, lovely readers! Thank you all so much for 300+ reads 🔥! I'm honoured 🙏 . I don't write notes usually but this is to inform y'all that I won't  be uploading for a week or so 😢. I have exams and they're such a pain the ass. I know the chapter very short and I apologise for that. The next chapter is going to be longer (hopefully). Anyway, hope you liked the chapter. Any suggestions, ideas or constructive criticism is always appreciated. Ciao! 👋 
~ Katniss