>>5483271Ego sits himself forward as he leans down towards the camera: <span class="mu-i">”The reason why it’s so shitty here compared to everywhere else in this facility is because you’re all so shitty at soccer, idiot.”</span>
“HUH?!” Raichi yells out to the screen.
You watch as Ego rolls his eyes at the protest from Raichi before putting one, singular finger in the air. Five hexagons appearing shortly after.
<span class="mu-i">”Allow me to say a little about Blue Lock. This facility that you’re all in is composed of five wings. Teams B through Z, twenty-five in all are split into groups of five and are living together in each wing.”</span>
<span class="mu-i">”By the way…One person has been eliminated from each room during the game of tag that I subjected everyone to. That means that there are currently two-hundred and seventy-five of you still remaining in the Blue Lock program.”</span>
Your eyes widen as you look towards your own number with a sense of shame and embarrassment. Of course. Why would you have ever thought that in the span of three whole days, that you could have raised yourself up by more than twenty whole ranks without other factors at play. You were a fool to believe otherwise.
Igaguri seem to have the same realisation: “Huh…? So even though I went from three-hundred to two-seventy-five… I’m still at the bottom? That was some short lived joy…”
<span class="mu-i">”You’re split into teams in order of RANK. Ranks one through 11 are Team A, 12 through 22 are Team C. You understand, right?”</span>
<span class="mu-i">”Your Team Z is the lowest ranked of the five wings, and also within WING FIVE itself. Additionally, your team is made up of the bottom tier of this wing, 265 to 275.”</span> Ego states as a matter of finality.
<span class="mu-i">’Even Bachira, who’s miles ahead of the current me… Even HE is in the bottom tier?!’</span> You think to yourself as you look at the others with incredulity.
“Seriously?!” Raichi says. “Don’t lump me in with this trash…”
“Look who’s talking, trash.” Kunigami retorts.
Another person yells out to the side, unable to be heard: “Don’t fight… please.”
Ego comes back to the fray, seemingly, with even more to say: <span class="mu-i">“Those in the upper ranks are enjoying good food and are training with the latest and best equipment that money can buy. They are leading a lifestyle of a top striker.”</span>
He taps his glasses thoughtfully, <span class="mu-i">“Whoever is best at soccer here will be treated like royalty. If you want a nice life for yourselves, then boost yourself accordingly.”</span>
<span class="mu-i">“Now then…”</span> Ego drawls out, <span class="mu-i">“Let’s begin Blue Lock’s first selection exam!” </span>
And with those final words of his, silencing the rest of the room in his wake, you can only imagine what kind of death-game he wants you all to play next…
(continued)
