Ascension│Bluelock x male reader

3.5. Rival King

Noa took the field. Y/N followed dutifully behind him, the pair of them sweeping across the field towards the Bastard Munchen team. As Y/N watched, Kaiser grabbed the top of his shorter friend's hair, yanking it back so the boy's neck was exposed. He tapped the light skin, making the other boy cough horribly. Could you even call them friends?

"Sorry, Yoichi. I underestimated you." Kaiser grinned madly. Y/N frowned. "You're no shitty clown at all!"

He was about to go jump in, mouth opening, but Noa shot him a look. Y/N instantly fell still. Kaiser continued, not noticing either of them as they stood a small distance away. "Let's see... Rensuke Orange dude is the bandit leader out to steal my goals. You're Bandit A, who follows him around like a dog."

"Fine. I've got a role for you then." Isagi levelly met Kaiser's gaze. "How about the naked king who had everything stolen from him? Like that?"

Kaiser smirked. "Oh man. You're making me blush." His voice was completely free of venom, relaxed and sarcastic. "But I'm not done."

Y/N expected him to point at Bachira, or one of the other Bastard team members. He didn't expect Kaiser to whirl, eyes locking onto Y/N's surprised ones, smile spreading even wider. One slender finger pointed right at him. "And you. You can be the rival king, soon to be crushed under my foot like a fucking ant."

Y/N fumed. "You-"

As always, a screen far overhead lit up. A crackle sounded across the arena, and everyone from the foreign teams looked up with surprise. The Bluelock players didn't react, too used to the appearance of Ego in seemingly every single room.

The black-shirted man was reclining in a beach chair, holding a glass of dark purple liquid in a fancy cocktail glass. "Good job on your first match, Neo Egoists. I hope you enjoyed your first taste of the international leagues?"

Cringe name. Y/N kept his eyes on the screen without talking. Even though he really wanted to. He interrupted me... I wanted a chance to insult Kaiser.

"The world of pros is like a game of musical chairs." Y/N's eyebrows raised with disbelief. Ego is going senile if he's rambling like that. "To get into an existing team, you have to steal someone else's space. On top of that, every team has 'water' called philosophy. Logic, freedom, or rules - there's many ways to survive in that water. Some people die in water not suited to them."

Ego paused. He raised the cocktail glass up, light reflecting off it into the camera. "Or you may adapt, and live. Some may even dye the water their own colour. But for what it's worth... running away is also an option. Nobody's forcing you to be here."

"At any rate... the first match is over. Let's move on to the new Bluelock rankings."

Mouth opening into a silent 'o', Y/N stared upwards as on the screen, holograms sprang to life. A swarm of player names floated up, each with their own rapidly changing number. Some numbers stopped fast. Others kept rising, flickering as the noise of coins clinking echoed through the room.

He already knew about the biddings. The entire system had been explained to him beforehand, but apparently not to the Bluelock players. Isagi was staring up with wide eyes, watching his own number go up.

"These numbers are yearly salaries." Ego stated. His voice echoed. Nobody spoke. "Every game in this league is being watched by soccer club owners around the world. They watch all of your plays... bid on you... and the highest bid at the end represents your value!"

"Each bid gives the club rights to negotiate a contract with you, at that salary. Excluding overseas players, this is how we will determine the twenty-three players that will make up the U-20 World Cup team. For Bluelock players, this is a way to get stronger. For foreign players, it is a way to showcase yourself to the world."