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Ego Jinpachi has never been much of what anyone would call a “people person.” He’s callous, blunt, and honest to a fault, at best. At worst, he’s arrogant, rude, and altogether lacking in respect. He’s a slob, a pigheaded ass, and a bastard of the highest degree. The JFA hates him, except for Anri, who probably tolerates more than she should.
His pen hovers over the tablet, hesitating between two choices. Some of the team assignments are easy: those Wanima twins and that pair from Hakuho High School obviously belong together. A few are more challenging, but sorted within a minute. He briefly considers candidate #56 and #178, Barou Shouhei and Niko Ikki, together, but quickly rejects the idea. Barou is too stubborn for Niko to use him for any good purpose, at least for now.
He moves Barou to a team made up of eleven others he didn’t bother learning the names of. His notes say a few are decent at passing and defense; all the better for letting the selfish king shine. He puts Niko with Okawa, someone who is good enough, but not too good. If he’s being honest, he’d prefer Niko’s eyes over the other’s firepower. Good scorers are a dime a dozen, but analytic calculatability is something harder to teach.
He pads out their roster with more players, left hand flicking through his spreadsheet. Perhaps they should have another goal-scorer? No, Niko should focus on one person at a time.
Ego scrolls through the remainder of his list and begins picking out names he wants to keep. Rin Itoshi, obviously. That glasses Yukimiya kid. Shidou Ryusei. He reaches the top of his list and sighs.
Anri would be having conniptions if he told her that he’s planning on throwing out Japan’s Soccer Gem within the first two weeks, at most. The JFA would most definitely have his head if they knew this was purposeful.
Well. He’ll just need to make it look like an accident, then.
What kind of team should he assemble to get Kira out quick, then? He sits back and takes another look through the list. Trying to overpower him with pure skill wouldn’t work; at most, he’d simply lose the others. It’s too risky to put all his eggs in that one basket.
He needs someone ambitious. Someone hungry. Someone cutthroat and bloodthirsty and preferably unwitting enough to help carry out this murder without the slightest bit of hesitation.
Ego snorts. There’s not a chance in hell he finds that in any one person. He flicks through files on the computer in front of him, scrolling through video after video of high school soccer games. The oldest are from months ago, the newest just updated half an hour ago. He opens it up and begins watching.
Kira is nothing special. He’s skilled mechanically, of course, but as a striker there’s nothing remarkable. The moves that would have Anri drooling are perfectly repeatable by any athlete about his age with similar training. He runs pretty fast, passes more or less accurately, defends and steals with average ability, shoots with decent accuracy and power, and scores just fine. All in all, Kira is a good player and performs at a high level all around.
And that’s the problem: Kira is boring and bland and mundane. Ego doesn’t need stability, no, quite the opposite: He wants dangerous and unstable to ignite an explosion and demolish the current foundation of Japanese soccer. Kira might be a fine player, but according to Ego’s criteria, he fails miserably. He might be ambitious, maybe, but Kira isn’t hungry. Kira doesn’t thirst for glory and power and victory above all else. Kira isn’t an egoist.
And in Ego Jinpachi’s books, that constitutes a failing grade.
So, that settles it. Kira is the first one that needs to go. Because if Kira succeeds, then he will put a dent in Ego’s plans for raising an egoist who will reach out with both hands and take and take and take what they want, instead of waiting for it to fall into their lap.
He starts a new team, adds Kira as the first one on his new list, and skips to the last few minutes of the game.
And he sits forward. “Anri,” he says. She hurries over, he jabs the screen. “Who’s this?”
“Ichinan High? We didn’t have any players from there, did we?” She scans her clipboard. “Why?”
“I want to invite him,” Ego says, sitting back. “We have one more open space. You were at this game, so tell me about him.”
Anri pulls out her phone and looks over the match. “Rewind a minute–Why are you asking me about this kid on the opposite team when all they’re showing is the interview with Kira after the match?” She shoots him a worried glance. “You’re not cutting him, are you?”
“He’s on the list still,” Ego replies. Little does she know that he’s doing everything he can to get Kira off, pronto.
“Good. Here it is. Isagi Yoichi, Ichinan High, second year student, striker. Why so curious?” She puts her phone away. “We need the final list by tomorrow, you know.”
Ego waves her off. “What do you think I’m doing now? Let me work in peace, I’ll finish by midnight.”
Anri packs her things and leaves, muttering something about poor sleep and its impact on health. Ego ignores her and focuses on the glimpses of post match footage.
It’s almost pathetic, how Ichinan’s coach and the rest of the team is in shambles. Waterworks, snot, the whole nine yards–Only Isagi Yoichi in the middle of it all is stoic, almost unaffected. Ego pauses on a blurry shot of the winning team with them in the background, staring at Isagi’s back. No, he realizes. Isagi isn’t stoic. He’s apathetic.
It piques Ego’s interest. Isagi must be smarting from the missed goal. A striker, unable to score, is no better than tasteless soy sauce: good for looks and not much else. The iron is hot and the time to strike is perfect. Isagi Yoichi will be key to defeating Kira Ryusuke if Ego can fine-tune the conditions to polish him, and possibly even carry Blue Lock long after his own legacy has turned to dust. Is he willing to bet on that? Ego’s never been much of a betting man, but this calculated risk is one he’ll take.
To kickstart that apathy into ambition… Ego adds Isagi Yoichi to his list, right beneath Kira Ryusuke’s name. He’s interested in that boy’s growth. But to knock Kira out, he needs someone to compliment Isagi. His moves are too textbook, too stiff, too predictable…
Bachira Meguru is the third entry and Gagamaru Gin, the fourth. And, well, if he wants to set Isagi on fire, Ego might as well hope he acts as tinder for Chigiri Hyouma. Either they’ll both start burning or the whole thing will go up in flames. He adds Iemon and Raichi for defense, Kunigami for firepower, and a few more names to fatten up the team.
“The longer you delay, Ego, the more it’s going to cost to send the letters,” Anri calls from the door. “Same-day postage isn’t cheap!”
“I’ll get these hand-delivered if that’s so much of a problem,” He says, grouchily hunching over and scribbling on his tablet.
Anri leaves him again. Ego finishes his list, proofreads it twice, and emails it to Anri. “I told you I’d finish.”
“Finally,” Anri sighs, looking over the file in her email. “I’ll get everything sorted first thing tomorrow.” And off she goes, unaware that Ego has sentenced her precious Jewel to death.