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18 THE TOP 3

Bachira hums, and he looks down at the ground—as if lost in thought. Looking at him, it really does look like he's doing some heavy deduction skills. "Good to know. So, more teams of three will show up eventually, and we'll have to be strategic about who we play."

Nagi shrugs, eyes half-lidded, "Sounds like it. If we can steal a player after we win... we should probably choose opponents based on the player we want to take."

Ego's voice booms out—"That's exactly right. Who you choose to battle will be the key to clearing this stage. To inform your choice—I will now announce the latest Blue Lock rankings."

On their sleeves—their numbers all flash and count down until they're at their supposed ranking. You look over at Bachira, who's standing next to you, and his number is 16. Then Isagi must be 15... because he came out just before Bachira. And that means Rin Itoshi is...

You squint at his sleeve, fists bunched up, number one.

"Naturally, there are no fake numbers this time around. These ranks are in the order in which you passed the first stage. If put forth a suitable showing, each of you are players who can turn zero into one on the field. To move forward, you'll need to figure out how to mix your talents to enhance one another. Only strikers who are able to harness their egos will get the opportunity to move on. Use any means necessary to win."

Ego's voice drops to a low whisper before the screen glitches out once again, and fades to a bright white. You stare at the blank white for a few more seconds, then breathe out heavily through your nose, eyes resting on the floor, "What a weirdo."

"So in short, we advance by winning and forming a team of 5," says Nagi.

"Bingo." Bachira snickers, hands resting behind the back of his neck. He rests his eyes, and looks oddly at peace with himself, "Given the circumstances, it sounds like we can take our sweet time picking who we play against. What do you think, Isagi?"

Said male perked up at the mention of his name, but quickly averted the eye contact in favour of closing his eyes—clearly deep in thought. You give him a worried look that he does not catch, but your attention is quickly drawn away to the big, bulky boy on Rin Itoshi's team.

Tokimitsu whimpers, fingers pressed together to stop them from shaking out of control, and face riddled with anxiety, "What a nightmare! I can't stand it... aaaaah... I don't wanna play this game! If we end up blowing it..." He slaps his hands over his ears, eyes wide with worry, "No one will pick me over those two! And if I lose again after that... AAAAAH! I'll be left all alone—this is awful! I don't want it to end here!"

You stare at him with a deadpan expression, eyes narrowed at his trembling figure trying to figure out if he's actually being serious or not. Talk about zero confidence.

"We should play against ranks four through six, that would be fair," Aryu twirls a strand of his hair around his finger, a nonchalant, calm expression on his face. You stare at him incredulously, lips parted in shock at his glowing aura, he's totally gorgeous. "And glam. Beating those losers who just walked in would be much too easy. So sad. Destroying them would be an ugly look."

Your deadpan expression almost seems to grow even more blank at his response—staring at him with a parted jaw. You're in practical disbelief at how these two were part of the top 3 in all of Blue Lock as of this moment. A boy with hair longer than Rapunzel, and another who's so anxious that he might spontaneously implode.

Rin Itoshi steps forward, face as cold and distant as ever, with hard eyes pointed down at the two freakshows he's partnered with. He distinctly told them to shut up, voice contorted with displeasure, "I don't care who we play. I'll win and move on no matter the circumstance. You two don't even need to join in."