𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 | 𝘽𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙘𝙠

13. 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵

"𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓...." The Blue Locker looked on in confusion, anger, sadness, just a multitude of emotion.

"Why choose him...? The worst player on this team? Why not me?? I scored both of my team's goals..! I'm a better player by far!"

Adonis looked down at the boy who gripped his jersey by the collar, a look of annoyance plastered on his face.

The boy was nearly crying, pleading for the man to choose him instead of the useless monk.

It made sense, the reason as to why he was begging so much. There was no more teams at this point in the selection, everyone had either advanced or had already been eliminated.

This was their last chance to advance, and he'd thought he'd be able to do it easily, but he scored twice anyways... He deserved to advance!

"Sure, you scored twice, but you're still shit."

By now, their team had grown to the size of four people, Adonis, Shidou, Reo, some random kid named Kurona, and they had just acquired their last player, Igaguri.

"You're a waste of breath, but i'll explain it to you," He starts, gripping the boy's wrist harshly, forcing it off his jersey. "You're useless. You'd do nothing but get in our way."

He turned for a second, seeing his team already traveling down the dark hallway without him.

"Plus, you only scored twice because I couldn't be bothered to stop you, you filth." He says, turning on his heel and following the othersp through the tunnel.

He trails his team, not bothering to catch up to them, letting out a heavy sigh and running his hands through his head.

He hated it here, he was far past over it at this point.

He hated this sport, this slave like facility, and everything inbetween. He despised it all.

Hiding his identity, constantly playing games, focused on nothing but the sport, what type of life was he living?

All Blue Lock did was help deepen his hate for the sport, and no matter what Ego said, it wasn't getting better.

He'd tried over and over again to convince himself he liked it all, that he liked the competition, that it was fun.

But it just wasn't. No matter how much he told himself it was, it just wasn't. He was exhausted. Tired of lying to himself, tired of trying to enjoy something he didn't.

He'd admit, the players had gotten a lot better im the time they'd been there, but not good enough.

He'd yet to feel that same excitement, that exhiliration he'd once felt when he'd battled Sae.

Nobody he faced could bring back that feeling. He truly tried, he gave every team a chance to show their worth, and each time he was dissapointed.

His sister's words rang in his head, pounding on his skull and bouncing around inbetween his ears.

He had tried to make it fun, time and time again, fancy goals, beautiful assists, his more than exceptional dribbling, but it was all for naught.

Even Shidou, the closest player to his level was still mediocre in his eyes.

Maybe it was because they were eyes that had witnessed world level talent firsthand, or maybe it wasn't.

He understood Ego's intentions fully, he understood why the man wanted him to pair with the demon, but it didn't make a difference.

"Fuckin' hell." He muttered, fed up with it all.

He'd seriously left his sister for this? Abandoned his life for this money dump of a training facility?

A mistake. An exceptionally large mistake.

However, he felt It wasn't too late to right his wrongs.

He exited the hallway, the bright lights of the room bringing him out of his thoughts, seeing his team infront of him, their eyes trained on the board.

He hears the man briefly talk about the concept of Luck, a topic he'd already knee about, lowering his head and opting to get lost in his thoughts once again.

"You may want to hear this part, Mr. Kaguya" He heard Ego speak, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Next is the third selection. Like I promised, it'll be a training program with some of the world's top players," The screen clicks from Ego's face to five players, Adonis's eyes widening in shock, "It'll begin in twenty-four hours."

"So how about a five-on-five match with these superstars? It's time to learn about the world."

The taller boy's eyes locked on one specific man's face, the only striker his age that could Rival him.

If he was his generation's equivalent of Noel Noa, this man was Chris Prince. They were easily the best two of their generation.

Julian Loki.

Yet, he still felt no excitement.

—

800 words.

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