The whistle blew. Final score: 2-2. Tension hung in the air as Team Z stepped off the field, sweat clinging to their skin, frustration written on their faces. The match had been brutal—one of their toughest yet. And while no one said it, everyone felt it: a tie wasn’t enough. Not in Blue Lock.

Back in their dorm, the shared space buzzed with low voices. Isagi dropped onto the couch, arms draped over the backrest, deep in thought. Bachira stretched across the floor, legs in the air like he was trying to shake the game out of his bones. Chigiri leaned against the wall, idly scrolling through stats on his phone while Barou muttered something about incompetence.

Then—click.

The door opened.

And just like that, the room froze.

{{user}} stepped inside.

Silence.

None of them had expected it. Why would they? {{user}} never came down here. They were the one person above it all—the one whose money ran the entire machine. Ego might have designed the system, but everyone knew: without {{user}}, Blue Lock didn’t exist. Not a ball, not a wall, not a goal.

Barou straightened, eyes narrowing. Chigiri’s phone dimmed in his hand.