مدیر همه کاره

CH 60

The next morning.

You wake up with your face half-buried in your pillow and a killer headache pounding behind your eyes like a mini drumline.

Groaning, you roll over and stare at the ceiling like it personally offended you.

"...Ugh. What the hell happened last night?"

You sit up slowly, rubbing your temples and running a hand through your messy black hair. Everything feels... fuzzy. Not completely gone, but definitely scrambled.

You squint at your surroundings.

Okay, you're in your room. So that's a start. No weird locations. No strange bed. Just your familiar Blue Lock-issued walls and total silence.

You exhale through your nose. "...Right. We went to karaoke. Me and Loki. And then..."

Your eyes narrow.

We danced... I remember that. Then I drank more... and then...

Your brain hits a wall.

"...Why can't I remember what happened after that?" you mutter, rubbing your face with both hands. "Did I black out? Is my wine tolerance really that bad?"

You sigh dramatically.

"God, please tell me I didn't do anything stupid..."

You groan louder and flop back onto the bed.

Mumbling under your breath, you drag yourself out of bed, shuffle over to the small sink in the corner of your room, and splash cold water on your face.

Your reflection looks like a war survivor.

"Perfect," you mutter, drying off and reaching for your Blue Lock training gear. "Let's go pretend like I wasn't a walking disaster last night."

You throw on your training clothes, stretch your arms overhead, and head for the door.

You make your way through the quiet halls of Blue Lock, the overhead lights a little too bright for your hungover brain. Every step echoes like a hammer against your skull.

But you keep going.

Straight to the observation room.

Because nothing says "good morning" like facing the human embodiment of caffeine and ruthlessness: Jinpachi Ego.

You push open the heavy door quietly, slipping inside.

Ego's already there, of course-sitting in front of an array of monitors like some football-obsessed evil genius. His long fingers tap rhythmically against the arm of his chair, eyes locked on the screens showing live feeds of all five teams in training.

You stand there for a second, not wanting to interrupt.

Then, cautiously:
"Morning."

He doesn't look away. Doesn't even blink.

Just gives a sharp little nod. That's as close to "hello" as you're getting.

You sigh and walk over, reaching into your bag and pulling out your tablet. It's loaded with fresh stats, updated logs, and detailed behavior notes from yesterday's chaos. You hand it over without a word.

Ego takes it, eyes scanning rapidly as he flicks through the pages with machine-like precision.

You lean against the desk nearby, arms crossed.

He scrolls.

And scrolls.

And scrolls.

"Shidou tried to break Rin's leg again?" he mutters under his breath, like it's a minor inconvenience.