"Woah! Ubers launches their offense right off the bat!"
The commentators barely had time to catch their breath before the field exploded into motion.
"Their defensive formation has switched to offense completely! So many players are joining the front!"
The kickoff had barely settled before Ubers surged forward as one, black and white jerseys flooding into Bastard München's half with reckless intent.
No probing.
No delay.
Straight into aggression.
'What…?'
Hiori froze mid-step, eyes widening as the shape of the field warped in front of him.
'Are they seriously leaving the defense with only four players…?'
The disbelief was natural.
Because the moment he counted again, the truth didn't change.
Ubers' back line had been stripped bare.
Only Aiku, Aryu, Riko, and Abdi remained behind — a skeletal defense holding the entire field on their shoulders.
Although this wasn't such a big deal as many formation consisted of only 4 defenders.
However, the team they were facing against isn't some ordinary one.
It's Bastard München.
And currently it could also be called the best team when it comes to offense, and now with Kaiser also being a part of it, Bastard München was in it's most dangerous state it has ever been.
So seeing everyone else committing to attack.
Six bodies charging forward with no intention of retreat.
Drago.
Perone.
Niko.
Lorenzo.
Barou.
And Snuffy himself.
It only gave away one conclusion.
That it was a gamble.
A full-scale offensive overload that abandoned safety, spacing, and long-term control in favor of one brutal idea:
Break them now — or lose everything.
The pitch felt smaller.
And quickly enough, the effect of the formation revealed itself.
With Niko's vision acting as the control tower, passes began firing off in relentless succession — not reactive, not hopeful, but calculated in real time based on the shifting positions around him.
Each touch adjusted to the next opening, every angle feeding perfectly into Lorenzo's zombie dribble.
It was efficient.
Together, they tore through the midfield at a brutally fast tempo, the ball never settling, never lingering long enough to be contested properly.
Kunigami stepped up to press — late by a fraction.
The ball slipped past him before his weight even finished shifting.
Raichi lunged in next, reading the line, trying to intercept — only for Lorenzo to glide past him, body loose, rhythm broken, dribble dragging defenders out of shape without ever looking rushed.
Then came Ness.
Stationed.
Too static.
They didn't even engage him.
They simply ran past his position, the ball already gone by the time he reacted, leaving his mentally disturbed head turning uselessly as Ubers surged onward.
Pass after pass snapped forward, the rhythm unbroken, the pressure compounding with every meter gained.
Still, Bastard München didn't collapse.
Their defense responded just fast enough to prevent immediate disaster.
Hiori locked onto Niko, abandoning space to man-mark him tightly, eyes sharp, vision clashing against vision.
Raichi adjusted, recovering onto Lorenzo, sticking close this time, matching his movement with grit instead of anticipation.
Two cores identified.
Two threats isolated.
For a moment, the bleeding slowed.
But even then, Ubers continued their rapid circulation under the Berserker Formation.
Niko received the pass — and without even a fraction of hesitation, slammed it straight toward Lorenzo.
The Berserker state continued unabated, the ball snapping forward.
As it cut through the air, one figure broke from Bastard München's line.
Kaiser.
He accelerated into the passing lane, eyes already locked onto the ball's path, reading not just where it was going — but where it had to go.
'That's the spot…'
The realization struck clean and precise.
The angle.
Kaiser arrived exactly where the ball was meant to pass through, foot drawing back to intercept, to tear possession away and flip the field in one motion—
And then—
Another presence crashed into the same space.
"Hold it there…"
An arm snapped out, cutting across Kaiser's path just as he reached the ball first.
The contact was perfectly measured, placed exactly where it needed to be to halt Kaiser's momentum without fouling.
The ball was stalled.
Kaiser's interception died on contact.
And Master Snuffy stood there.
He turned his head slightly, eyes settling on Kaiser with calm acknowledgment.
"Your vision really is good… Michael Kaiser."
The praise wasn't mocking.
It was factual.
Kaiser clicked his tongue as frustration flared through him, because he'd been read.
Neutralized at the exact moment his awakening threatened to flip the match.
This was the master stepping in precisely when a monster tried to bite.
The one to keep Berserker State of Ubers alive.
"No… that was good."
The voice cut in cleanly.
Noa arrived in a blur of speed and pressure, his presence crashing into the space like a sudden gravitational shift.
He had read the play in the same instant Kaiser had, and moved to steal the ball at the exact point where Snuffy's control threatened to crystallize.
"We'll box him in together, Kaiser."
There was no command in Noa's tone.
Only certainty.
Kaiser didn't hesitate.
The moment Noa stepped in, Kaiser adjusted his angle, snapping into position to seal the other escape route.
He blocked the lane Snuffy could slip through while deliberately opening a narrow corridor — one that led straight into Noa's reach.
At the same time, Kaiser shifted again.
Cutting off the passing angle to Lorenzo.
One option gone.
Then another.
Snuffy's field of choices compressed rapidly, the space around him shrinking as two of Bastard München's sharpest minds closed in from opposite ends.
"Oh?"
Snuffy's voice remained relaxed.
Almost amused.
"Thinking of your beloved pupil…"
He pivoted sharply, hand brushing against Kaiser's side — not to shove, but to guide the contact, using it to turn his own body.
In the same motion, he positioned his back against both Noa and Kaiser, anchoring himself between them while keeping his head free.
Eyes up.
Scanning.
"What a sweetie…"
The words came lightly.
Then everything happened at once.
With insane handling, Snuffy shifted his weight, rolling his hips and shoulders in a single, fluid motion. His body became the shield, the pivot, and the release point all at once — neutralizing Kaiser's block and Noa's press in a single instant.
No wasted movement.
No brute force.
Just flawless balance and control.
A textbook display of World-Class ball possession technique.
"Tch!"
Noa clicked his tongue, irritation flashing for the first time.
"Urgh—"
Kaiser was forced back half a step, the pressure of Snuffy's body hitting harder than expected, disrupting his center of gravity and shoving him off his line.
But even as his body gave ground—
His eyes didn't.
Kaiser's vision caught something else.
And in that same instant—
Snuffy smashed the ball forward toward Lorenzo.
The sound of contact was sharp.
Kaiser's eyes widened immediately.
He had seen it.
Before the pass was even released, Kaiser had already caught the movement in his peripheral vision — a figure slicing in from Snuffy's left blind spot, timing perfectly with the chaos of the press.
Isagi.
He was already lunging into the ball's projected path, body committing fully to the interception.
Isagi had read it.
He had predicted the exact moment when Master Snuffy would overpower both Kaiser and Noa, when the natural follow-up would be the pass toward Lorenzo — and he had placed himself precisely where that ball would go.
A perfect counter-read.
But Kaiser's shock didn't come from Isagi's presence.
It came from the next layer.
Because it wasn't just Kaiser who had noticed Isagi's movement.
So had Snuffy.
No—
He hadn't just noticed it.
He had goddamn orchestrated it.
To get Isagi out of the picture early.
The reason Kaiser froze was simple and horrifying.
Snuffy hadn't played a normal pass.
He lifted it.
A lofted ball.
Soft enough to rise.
Sharp enough to clear.
The pass arced cleanly over Isagi's interception line — over the space Isagi had sacrificed his body to claim.
And Isagi… was helpless.
Both feet were off the ground.
Mid-lunge.
Fully committed.
No ability to adjust.
The ball above him, untouchable, moving neatly towards Lorenzo, exactly as Snuffy had intended all along.
Noa had been boxed out.
Kaiser had been displaced.
Isagi had been baited.
Three reads layered on top of one another—
And Snuffy had been one step ahead of all of them.
In a single motion, Master Snuffy had outplayed the three sharpest minds of Bastard München.
Not with speed.
Not with power.
But with foresight so clean it felt cruel.
This wasn't just an endgame.
It was a master reminding monsters exactly how far the ceiling still was.
Yet the very next moment shocked everyone even more who witnessed it.
In one brutal motion, Isagi's outstretched right foot — the same foot he had thrown forward to cut off the interception line — slammed into the ground.
Not gently.
Not to brace.
It hit like a spring being fired.
Muscle and tendon reacted before thought, reflex overriding logic as his body answered a command his mind hadn't finished forming yet.
The force was obscene.
So violent that in that same instant, Isagi generated enough power to launch himself upward — an impossible jump born from a posture that should never have allowed it.
From that angle. From that commitment. From mid-air.
It shouldn't have worked.
And it almost didn't.
The angle betrayed him.
A clean vertical jump was impossible — physics refusing to cooperate — and gravity tore at his balance, twisting his center of mass sideways.
His upper body rotated horizontally, dragged down by momentum, his form collapsing into something wild and broken.
But Isagi didn't stop.
He refused to stop.
As his torso tilted and the ball above his head began to slip past him…
His left foot shot out.
Instinctive.
And it found the ball.
The touch was sharp.
Clean.
"Seriously…?"
The words escaped from Hiori's mouth as an astonished grin forming on his face.
"What…?"
The reactions came naturally — disbelief rippling through players who had just watched logic shatter in real time.
But Isagi wasn't finished.
Not even close.
Because he didn't just stop Snuffy's pass.
The instant his left foot made contact, Isagi flicked the ball downward, snapping it toward the ground with precision, killing its momentum before it could escape again.
At the same time, his right hand slammed into the turf, fingers digging in as an anchor point, his entire body hinging around that contact as he twisted himself back into control.
One hand.
One foot.
Total possession.
Balance restored through violence.
Control seized through refusal.
When Isagi finally came down fully, the ball was his.
By sheer, irrational insistence.
And in that frozen second — as the audience roared late, as players stared, as even the masters recalculated —
Isagi Yoichi had flipped the game.
The ball rested at his foot.
One knee pressed into the turf, his body still low from the impossible recovery — and yet his eyes were already lifted, locked directly onto Snuffy.
For the first time since entering the field…
Snuffy was shocked.
The reaction was natural.
He had outplayed everyone in that exchange.
Kaiser.
Noa.
Even Isagi.
The sequence had been clean, layered, airtight — a master's solution meant to continue Ubers' attack without resistance.
And yet—
This boy had shattered it.
With nothing but pure insane physical abilities and instinct.
That alone was disturbing.
And then there was Isagi's face.
He was smiling.
It wasn't cocky, or of excitement either.
It was quiet.
Almost serene.
As if something inside him had loosened instead of tightened — a strange, luminous calm that made his presence feel unnaturally light.
He looked… free.
The sight struck Snuffy harder than the interception itself.
It seemed awfully similar to the previous match Bastard München had played — of that same unbound state where Isagi stopped looking like a player operating within logic and started feeling like something drifting just outside of it.
Something dangerous.
A shiver ran down Snuffy's spine.
Isagi pushed himself up smoothly, his right foot rolling the ball forward as he rose, movement flowing without hesitation as he began running straight at Snuffy.
"I get that you want to show off for five minutes…"
His voice was steady.
Too steady.
"But it's time to end this match…"
The words carried weight far heavier than their volume suggested.
There was something off about his tone — not anger, not excitement — but a hollow certainty, as if the decision had already been made somewhere deeper than conscious thought.
Not a declaration.
A verdict.
Snuffy stepped forward to meet him.
The clash came fast — bodies closing, pressure collapsing inward as the master moved to shut Isagi down before he could fully take over.
But Isagi was already ahead.
In one smooth motion, he lofted the ball to his right with the outside of his right foot, lifting it just enough to clear Snuffy's immediate reach and sending it sailing toward Noa.
Snuffy reacted instantly.
He pivoted sharply, turning his body toward the new threat as Noa came into range, positioning himself between Noa and Kaiser in one compact adjustment.
As Snuffy closed in to press, Noa didn't rush.
He kept possession calmly, letting the pressure arrive — and then, with perfect timing, slid a pass to his left.
Kaiser stretched his leg out immediately.
He was already moving into position, already convinced.
It had to be for him.
But it wasn't.
From behind Kaiser's left shoulder —
Isagi burst through.
He appeared out of the blind spot like a phantom, receiving the pass from Noa cleanly, his first touch seamless, almost casual.
The moment the ball met his foot, Isagi exploded forward.
Acceleration detonated beneath him, legs driving with ruthless efficiency as he tore past the space Kaiser and Snuffy had just occupied.
In a single exchange —
Snuffy was bypassed.
Kaiser was misdirected.
And Noa had trusted the right answer.
By the time they turned, Isagi was already gone — sprinting into open field, his momentum absolute.
And in that moment, watching Isagi advance with that vacant smile and glowing presence, Snuffy understood something unsettling as a weary smile appeared on his face.
That wasn't bravado from Isagi moments ago.
Isagi Yoichi wasn't riding the flow of the game anymore.
He was inside it.
Lost in it.
Possessed by it.
Isagi Yoichi was in a trance.
And the gamble Ubers had relied on... has backfired!
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