Blue Lock: Natural Selection

Chapter 1: Tradegy

"Fuck! Fuck!" 

The air was thick with anguish as the young boy lay there, his body wracked with pain and his spirit shattered. His cries echoed through the stadium, a raw manifestation of his agony. Tears mingled with the sweat on his face, tracing lines of despair.

In the hushed atmosphere, each observer reacted differently. Some turned to their faith, seeking solace in prayer, while others recoiled from the gruesome sight, unable to bear the weight of such suffering. Among them, a few hardened souls regarded the scene with a chilling detachment, their eyes betraying no hint of emotion.

But for the boy, time seemed to grind to a halt, every passing moment a torment of its own. With only his trembling arm to shield his tear-streaked face, he awaited the arrival of the medical staff, each second stretching into eternity. The injuries he bore were not merely physical but a cruel blow to his dreams and aspirations. A broken leg and a ruptured Achilles heel threatened to rob him of his very essence, leaving behind only a shadow of the greatness he once possessed.

As the medical team rushed to his side, the boy closed his eyes, a whispered lament escaping his lips.

"Damn the egoists... Just as my story was reaching its crescendo..."

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"I also infer from an observation made by Professor Owen, with respect to the length of the arms of the ourang-outang, that he has come to a nearly similar conclusion. It is hopeless to attempt to convince anyone..."

The classroom was a tableau of disinterest, with the professor's voice droning on against a backdrop of yawning students. Only a handful bothered to jot down notes, while others succumbed to the lullaby of boredom, drifting into slumber or gazing aimlessly into the distance. One boy, however, sat upright, his gaze fixed on the pages of his textbook, his mind elsewhere.

Glancing around, he noted his seat partner's deep slumber, a common occurrence in these lectures. "Not again," he muttered under his breath, contemplating whether to rouse his comrade from his peaceful repose. Before he could act, a buzz from his Apple Watch interrupted his thoughts. "Yo! Outside!" the message flashed, drawing his attention.

Outside the window, his friend Joseph waved enthusiastically, prompting a surge of frustration in the boy. "What the hell!" he cursed inwardly, a vein pulsing with annoyance. "That damn bastard let his class out early again!"

Just as he contemplated his luck, the professor's gaze shifted from the pages of his book to meet the boy's eyes. Caught off guard, he scrambled for a response. "Is there something more interesting outside than what I'm reading (Y/N)?" the professor inquired, his tone tinged with suspicion.

Panicking, (Y/N) stuttered, "Uhm... No, professor!"

The professor's stern gaze lingered for a moment longer before returning to his book. "Just because you might be top of your class doesn't mean you get to slack off," he admonished.

"Absolutely," (Y/N) agreed hastily, feeling the weight of the professor's expectations pressing down on him.

"Good. Now, I want everyone to read chapter 8 by next class," the professor announced, heedless of the collective groan that rippled through the class. "Oh, (Y/N), for not paying attention, I want you to fill out this packet on the first two chapters."

Caught off guard, (Y/N) sputtered, "Wha—"

"Don't make me push it to 4," the professor interjected firmly.

"Absolutely, professor! I'll make sure to have it done by tomorrow," (Y/N) replied, resigned to his fate as the professor dismissed the class.

"What's always you?" Joseph's voice interrupted his thoughts.