Blue Lock: Phantom Striker

Jinpachi Ego leaned back in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he exhaled slowly. His apartment was minimalist, bare walls, a simple desk, a few books stacked neatly beside his laptop. A large monitor illuminated the room, casting a pale glow over his face as he stared at the file open before him.

It was the Blue Lock candidate list.

Two hundred and ninety-nine players. Each one selected through rigorous scouting, advanced statistical models, and an unforgiving evaluation of their ability to become the ultimate striker.

But he had just found number three hundred.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the desk, his mind replaying the events of earlier that night.

Yoichi Isagi.

A thief. A street rat. A nobody in the world of professional football. Yet, in that fleeting moment, when Isagi had stolen his wallet, Ego had seen something extraordinary.

Speed. Precision. Calculation. Instinct.

Most pickpockets relied on luck or brute speed. They snatched and ran, hoping to avoid confrontation. But Isagi? He had been deliberate. His timing impeccable. His misdirection flawless. Even after Ego had caught him, the boy had shown no panic, only sharp eyes scanning for an escape.

And the hunger in his expression when Ego made him an offer… that was what had sealed it.

Ego smirked.

Football wasn't a game for the selfless. It was a battlefield for the ambitious. He had spent years searching for players who embodied the pure, unfiltered ego required to stand atop the world as a striker.

And he had just stumbled upon one in the most unexpected place.

He turned away from his screen, standing up and stretching his arms. His muscles ached from sitting too long, but his mind was restless.

A thief with the instincts of a predator…

No. That wasn't right.

A thief who was ready to evolve into a hunter.

Isagi wasn't polished, wasn't refined. But neither were the greatest players when they first began. Blue Lock wasn't about finding perfection, it was about forging it.

And if he was right about Isagi…

He pushed up his glasses again.

He would either become the greatest weapon Japan had ever seen…

Or he would break.

Either way, it would be entertaining.

With that thought, Ego sat back down, cracked his knuckles, and reached for his phone. It was time to make a call.

The call connected after three rings.

"You're calling this late?" A female voice said tired but alert.

Anri Teieri. His assistant. One of the few people who tolerated his erratic work hours.

"If I cared about time, I wouldn't be me," Ego replied smoothly. "I have an addition for Blue Lock."

There was a pause. Then, Anri sighed. "We've already finalized the list. The selections were based on---"

"Forget the selection process," Ego interrupted. "This is an override."

Silence.

Then, a rustling sound, likely the sound of her sitting up from wherever she had been resting. "Ego-san… this isn't like you. You don't just add players at the last second."

Ego smirked. "Normally, no. But I just met someone interesting."

He heard the faint tapping of a keyboard. Anri was already preparing to take notes.

"Name?"

"Yoichi Isagi."

Silence. Then more typing.

"...There's no record of him in any major youth leagues. He's not even in the national ranking system. Are you sure---"

"I don't need records, Teieri," Ego cut in. "I need talent. And this boy? He has something the others don't."

A pause. "Which is?"

Ego leaned forward, fingers steepled. "Survival instincts. Pure, unfiltered hunger."

Anri hesitated. "That's… not exactly the foundation of a great striker."

"Isn't it?" Ego's voice was sharp. "What separates the greatest strikers from the rest? Talent? Training? Those help, sure, but at the core of every goal-scoring monster is a single, undeniable truth: they take what they want."

He didn't wait for her to respond.

"Isagi has already spent his life fighting for scraps. He knows what it means to steal opportunities. That instinct, that desperation, is what turns ordinary players into killers. If he learns to apply that same mentality to football…"

A dark chuckle escaped Ego's lips.

"He could become the deadliest weapon in Blue Lock."

There was a long silence.

Ego could practically hear Anri debating with herself. She was meticulous, always considering the big picture. She wasn't reckless like he was.

Finally, she sighed. "You really believe in this?"

"I don't believe in people," Ego replied flatly. "I believe in data. And my instincts tell me this boy is worth the gamble."

More typing. "If we add him, it'll be difficult. He'll be coming in without prior competition experience. He'll be an outlier."

Ego smirked. "Outliers change the game, Teieri. That's what we want, isn't it?"

Another sigh. Then, finally: "Fine. I'll make the arrangements. But you better be right about this."

"I'm always right."

She groaned. "That's the ego talking."

He grinned. "Exactly."

The call ended.

Ego leaned back, his smirk widening.

Isagi Yoichi…

His gamble had begun.

And he couldn't wait to see how the boy played the game.