Now, in the heat of the second half, Isagi could feel his brain overclocking. He watched unleash a thunderous long-range strike to make it 3-2. He watched Chigiri sprint like a red streak of lightning, his speed finally breaking the 3-3 deadlock.
"If you want to win," Bachira’s eyes had glowed with a frantic yellow light, "you have to evolve."
In the first half, Team Z had been dismantled. had moved like a ghost, his "trap" so perfect it felt like he was defying physics. Alongside him, Reo Mikage pulled the strings of the game with the precision of a master puppeteer. Team Z was down 3-0, and for a moment, the dream of becoming the world’s greatest striker felt like it was slipping away into the dark abyss of Blue Lock.
The score was tied, but the air felt different. Nagi, who had always claimed football was "boring" and "a drag," was no longer standing still. For the first time in his life, the genius was frustrated. His eyes, usually dull and vacant, were beginning to burn with a terrifying, newfound hunger.