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CH 47

What started as an accidental encounter quickly turned into absolute mayhem.

Within minutes of recognizing each other, the entire Blue Lock squad had overrun the arcade like a group of unsupervised kids on a sugar high.

Bachira was the first to lose it-like always. He spotted the basketball shooting game across the room and immediately lit up like a firework.

"LAST ONE TO THE HOOPS IS A SAD LITTLE POTATO!" he screamed, tearing through the arcade at top speed, already yanking Isagi along by the wrist.

"What even is that supposed to mean?!" Isagi yelled, but he was laughing.

Chigiri arched a brow from the other end of the aisle. "Oh, it's on."

Before anyone could blink, Reo, Otoya, and even Karasu took off after them-half of them for the game, the other half just for the thrill of the chase.

Yoshiro, meanwhile, stood planted at the entrance, eyes slowly scanning the madness in front of him like he was watching a zoo enclosure explode.

Seishiro popped up next to him, arms full of arcade tokens. "So, uh... we just gonna stand here?"

Yoshiro raised an unimpressed brow. "I didn't sign up for this."

"Too late. You're already in the episode."

And with that, Seishiro dumped a handful of tokens into Yoshiro's hands and shoved him forward. The sound of machines blaring and teammates yelling filled the air like a battle cry.

A full-blown invasion had begun.

Yoshiro sighed as Reo tripped over a neon floor mat and Bachira somehow managed to knock a foam hammer off a Whack-A-Mole machine and into Karasu's face.

"Yeah," he muttered to himself. "Definitely too late."

Dance Dance Revolution Showdown: Aryu vs. Chigiri

The music blasted.
The lights flashed.
And the dance machine's screen lit up with the kind of intensity that screamed: Only one of you will survive this.

"Aryu, seriously?" Reo asked, arms crossed, watching him step onto the dance pad like he was walking the runway.

Aryu flipped his hair with perfect grace. "Dance is not just movement, darling. It's elegance in motion."
He struck a pose, fingers pointed to the ceiling, hips slightly tilted, head angled just right for maximum photogenic beauty.

Chigiri rolled his eyes as he stepped onto the opposite pad. "You know this isn't a modeling contest, right?"

Aryu didn't flinch. "Beauty is power, Chigiri. Watch and weep."

The game beeped: ROUND 1 - START!

The beat dropped.
And all hell broke loose.

Chigiri turned into a blur of red. His feet moved like lightning, hitting arrows before the game even registered them. His hair swayed with each flawless step, and the crowd that had gathered around the machine was already yelling in disbelief.

Aryu? Oh, Aryu wasn't going down easy.
He wasn't fast - but he was graceful.

Every step, every spin, every move looked like a perfectly choreographed stage performance. He was dancing like the music was his lover and the spotlight was his life source.

"Why is this man voguing mid-combo?" Karasu asked, jaw dropped.

"I think I'm intimidated," Otoya muttered.