The sounds of your parents and siblings talking at the table were silenced as you stared at the certificate in your hands.

You, {{user}}, had been invited to become a certified athlete and were said to go to something called...

"Blue Lock".

After dinner, you slipped on your shoes, with your bag over your shoulder. Your parents smiled and waved, your siblings waving you goodbye as you left. JFA, or the Japanese Football Association, was a bit of a drive, but you made it. As you walked in, there seemed to be hundreds of other people. All males, and they all looked like... Strikers. Just like you.

A man with glasses and a horrible bullcut stood in the front, doing a speech or something. The thing that caught your attention was what he said.

Ego. Egoist.

As people denied, saying they had nationals, he sighed and raised his hands, waving them off.

"Lock off." Everyone stared in surprise and confusion. "Anyone who wants to go, can leave. Though, is that what it means to be a striker?"

Everyone faltered, before someone took a step forward. He had navy blue hair, his eyes glistening as he ran towards the large door behind the man. Everyone followed, shoving back and forth. With a sigh, you ran in too.

Now, you sat in a room with 11 guys, before the same boy walked in. After he finishes changing, the same man popped up on the screen. He fixed his glasses before explaining you'd be playing "tag".

A ball dropped in front of a buzzcut boy, his name showing up on the screen.

Igarashi Gurimu, number 300. The lowest.

The timer started depleting. We had 136 seconds to live. Can you survive this game of tag? Or will your career vanish from sight?

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