Blue lock: Reborn Egoist

Eito had spent years mastering his instincts, refining his ability to score goals under any circumstance. His speed, power, and technical ability had carried him this far, making him one of the most feared young strikers. But now, standing on the training pitch with his father, Jinpachi Ego, watching him, he felt an unfamiliar weight pressing down on him.

He had reached a plateau.

Ego had made it clear the previous day—if you want to be the best, you can't just be a goal-scorer. You need to control the game itself.

Eito exhaled sharply, his muscles aching from the relentless training sessions. He was no stranger to hard work, but this felt different. This wasn't just about pushing his body to the limit; this was about reprogramming the way he played football altogether.

"Your instincts have been fine-tuned for years," Ego said, pacing along the sideline. "But instinct alone is limiting. What you need now is awareness—not just of the ball, but of everything around you."

Eito nodded, rolling his shoulders, already preparing himself for whatever new challenge was coming.

Ego tapped his clipboard. "Your training from now on will revolve around three principles: positioning, vision, and tempo control. If you master these, you won't just score goals—you'll decide when and how the game unfolds."

The words sent a chill through Eito's spine. Control the game itself…

Ego smirked, sensing his son's anticipation. "First drill: a 5v5 match. But for the first 10 minutes, you are not allowed to take a shot."

Eito's brow furrowed. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

Ego's gaze sharpened. "Influence the game without scoring. Make the defenders react to you. Create space where there is none. Learn how to manipulate their positioning."

Eito clenched his jaw, nodding. If this was the next step in his evolution, he would embrace it.

The First Drill: Breaking the Habit

The whistle blew, and the scrimmage began. At first, Eito found himself lost in his usual rhythm—pressing high, looking for openings, ready to pounce on any scoring chance. But each time he moved toward goal, he had to stop himself.

Instead of instinctively attacking, he had to think.

For the first few minutes, it felt unnatural. He dropped deeper into midfield, something he rarely did, and at first, the defenders didn't know how to react. They hesitated, unsure whether to follow him or hold their line.

There it is.

That moment of hesitation was all Eito needed.

Instead of turning toward goal, he quickly distributed the ball to a teammate and immediately made a run—not toward goal, but toward an area where he knew defenders didn't want him to be. His movement forced the backline to adjust, opening up space behind them.

Within minutes, Eito's team had created multiple scoring chances—not because he was taking shots, but because he was forcing the defense to break its shape.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. This was new.

Then, exactly at the 10-minute mark, Ego's voice rang out across the field.

"Now, score."

Eito's body moved before he could think. He had spent the last ten minutes shifting the defense, pulling them apart, and now, the opening was there.

A perfect pass arrived at his feet, and without hesitation, he struck the ball cleanly.

The net rippled.

Goal.

But this time, it didn't feel like any normal goal. It felt like something designed. He hadn't just scored—he had dictated how the goal happened.

As his teammates cheered, Eito turned toward Ego, who gave him a knowing smirk. "Not bad. Now, let's make it second nature."

The Second Drill: Expanding Vision

The next part of the training was even harder.

Eito was placed in a new drill where he wasn't allowed to look at the ball while making runs. Instead, he had to watch everything else.

"Your vision is too narrow," Ego explained. "You focus too much on the ball, and while that works at lower levels, the best strikers track everything. Their teammates, their opponents, the space between them—that's what dictates their movement."

At first, the restriction felt impossible. Every time he ran forward, he instinctively wanted to glance at the ball. Every time he tried to anticipate a pass, he struggled to read the defenders without focusing on the play itself.

But little by little, something changed.

He started tracking defenders instead of the ball. He noticed tiny details—the slight shifts in their weight, the small hesitations in their movements.

By the end of the session, he was running without looking, receiving the ball at full sprint because he knew where it would be.

Eito wiped the sweat from his brow. His heart pounded, his legs burned, but something inside him felt electrified. He was seeing the game differently.

Ego walked up to him, arms crossed. "Starting to get it?"

Eito smirked, exhausted but determined. "Yeah."

The Final Drill: Tempo Control

For the last part of training, Eito was given a single instruction: control the pace of play.

Instead of pushing forward at full speed, he had to decide when to accelerate and when to slow things down.

At first, it was frustrating. His natural instinct was to attack every moment he saw an opening. But as he experimented, he noticed something—when he slowed down, defenders hesitated. When he suddenly exploded forward, they panicked.

For the first time, Eito realized he had been predictable.

Now, by controlling the tempo, he wasn't just reacting—he was making defenders think.

At the end of the session, Ego nodded approvingly. "That's enough for today."

Eito sat on the bench, catching his breath. His body was exhausted, but his mind was alive.

He wasn't just a striker anymore.

He was evolving.