The quiet in Team V's area was only interrupted by the hum of the vents and the gentle swish of synthetic fabric as eleven top strikers checked each other out. The Emperor's declaration was out there, a challenge that called for a reply.
Reo Mikage was the one who finally broke the deadlock. He burst out laughing briefly, giving a quick clap of his hands. The noise hit like a gunshot in the still room. "An Emperor?" he said, his voice smooth yet carrying a fresh intensity. He stepped closer to Yuto, his eyes sharp and observant. "Fine. Show me. We've got our first 11-vs-11 match coming up soon! Up against Team Z. Show us this 'smart way to win'."
Yuto locked eyes with Reo, his gaze completely chill, lacking any hint of rivalry, just a deep, unsettling calm. "The proof is coming, no doubt about it," he said, sounding pretty monotone. "The variables are already in play."
He then turned his back on the group, a dismissive gesture that was more insulting than any retort, and walked toward the tactical screen embedded in the wall.
The others watched him, a mixture of irritation and curiosity on their faces.
The hulking figure of Jyubei Aryu flicked his long hair over his shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "How dreadfully arrogant. My beauty is offended by such lack of grace."
The powerfully built Aoshi Tokimitsu wrung his hands, muttering, "Oh man, the situation is so stressful already..."
And Ryusei Shidou just grinned, a wild, feral thing. "Heh. This person's pissing me off. I can't wait to crush him."
Only Nagi seemed unbothered, already slouching against a wall and closing his eyes. "As long as it's not painful..."
•••
The strategy session for the match against Team Z was a silent war of wills. Reo, with his natural charisma and all-rounder talent, laid out a conventional plan. "We use our individual strengths. Zantetsu, your speed on the right wing. Aryu, reach in the box. Shidou, you're our main finisher. We'll overwhelm them with quality."
Yuto stood at the periphery, arms crossed, listening without comment. When Reo finished, he spoke without moving. "Adequate. But flawed."
Reo's jaw tightened. "Oh?"
"You are treating this team as a collection of individuals," Yuto stated, stepping forward. His long finger tapped the screen, highlighting Isagi Yoichi's profile. "You are ignoring the catalyst. His spatial awareness is the engine of their team. Shut him down, and their system collapses."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Shidou sneered. "You want me to babysit some mediocre blue-eyed loser?"
Yuto's head turned slowly, his gaze landing on Shidou. The sheer lack of emotion in his eyes was more intimidating than any glare.
"No. Your impulsivity would be a liability against his calculations." He shifted his gaze to Reo.
"I will handle Isagi. You," his eyes flicked to Nagi, "will be the primary target. You will not act as a finisher; instead, you will serve as a gravitational pull. Your mere presence in the final third will warp their defence, creating gaps I can exploit."
Nagi opened one eye. "Sounds... troublesome."
"It will be the least troublesome path to a goal," Yuto countered, his voice leaving no room for argument. It was not a request; it was a directive.
Reo watched the exchange, a complex storm of emotions in his eyes. He saw the chilling logic in Yuto's plan. He also saw his influence over Nagi being subtly co-opted. He gave a tight, reluctant nod. "We'll try it. But the moment it fails, we revert to my strategy."
Yuto's response was a simple, "It won't fail."
•••
The game kicked off on a big field, lit up by those bright stadium lights. The vibe was intense, a mix of tension and confidence. Team Z, a bunch of overlooked players, seemed super focused. Team V totally came off like a group of all-stars.
Right from the start, Team V was all about the pressure. Zantetsu Tsurugi sprinted down the right side, his incredible speed leaving his defender in the dust.
He sent in a cross, but Team Z's defender, Kunigami, made a last-ditch effort to clear it.
The game found its groove. Team V had the ball more, but Team Z was really on top of their game, with Isagi Yoichi always directing and adjusting, keeping their defence tight.
Yuto kicked things off in the midfield, not running after the ball, but finding his spot in the gaps between Team Z's lines. He was a thoughtful conductor, his eyes always darting around, taking everything in.
Just ten minutes in, and it happened. Bachira Meguru, a burst of energy, grabbed the ball in midfield.
He danced around one challenge after another, his dribbling all over the place. He always had a way of pulling players in. He lifted his head, scanning for Isagi, who was already sprinting into an open spot.
It turned out to be the connection Yuto expected.
As Bachira pulled his foot back to make the pass, Yuto sprang into action. It wasn't just about speed; it was a well-timed move to grab the moment.
He picked up on the way Bachira's hips moved, the path of the passing lane, and how fast Isagi was speeding up.
He didn't have to outrun the ball; he just had to be in the right spot to catch it before it got there.
He totally was.
The ball, intended for Isagi's run, struck Yuto's instep with a firm thwack. He killed its momentum dead, the ball settling at his feet as if it had never been moving. The entire play, which had looked so dangerous for Team Z, evaporated in an instant.
Isagi skidded to a halt, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn't even seen Yuto until it was too late.
Yuto didn't pause. He had already scanned the field. He saw Nagi, marked by two players, making a lazy, arcing run toward the box.
He saw Reo, unmarked on the left, waving his arms. He saw the frantic, disorganised shift in Team Z's defence.
And he saw the equation solve itself.
Instead of passing to the obvious, open Reo, he took one touch and launched a looping, forty-yard pass toward the left corner of the penalty area. It was not a pass to a player; it was a pass to a space, a currently empty zone.
"Wasteful!" Reo yelled from his wide position.
But Nagi saw it. His bored eyes sharpened for a microsecond.
The pass was perfectly weighted, landing in the one spot where his markers' momentum was carrying them away from him. It was the path of least resistance.
He didn't have to break his stride. He extended a leg, and the ball stuck to his foot as if by magic.
One touch to control. A second, effortless feint that sent a defender stumbling. A third, delicate touch was used to slide the ball across the goal's face.
It was a sitter. A tap-in.
Shidou, who had been lurking with predatory instinct, slammed the ball into the net with a vicious, powerful shot.
Team V scores! The current score is 1 - 0 against Team Z.
The whistle blew. Team V had the lead.
Nagi looked from the ball in the net to Yuto, a faint glimmer of something other than boredom in his eyes. "Huh. That... wasn't a pain."
Reo was stunned into silence. The goal had come not from his plan, but from Yuto's cold, brutal calculus. He had seen the entire field in a way Reo hadn't.
On the other side of the pitch, Isagi Yoichi stood frozen, his chest heaving. He felt a cold knot in his stomach.
He had been rendered irrelevant. He hadn't been out-muscled or out-sped. He had been outthought.
The pass he was about to receive had been stolen, and the counter-attack had been built on an understanding of Nagi's genius that he couldn't comprehend.
He watched Yuto, who was already walking back to the centre circle, not celebrating or even looking at his teammates. He was just resetting, like a machine.
As Team V regrouped, the Emperor's reign felt absolute. He had taken control of the game without a single dribble or shot, simply by solving the first major equation placed before him.
But on the sidelines, observing from the monitoring station, Anri Teieri leaned closer to her screen, a thoughtful frown on her face.
She had just witnessed a display of tactical intellect that surpassed even Ego's projections. And she had seen the flicker in Yuto's eyes when his plan worked—not joy, but the satisfaction of a correct calculation.
The loneliest kind of satisfaction.
The game was far from over, but the first blow had been struck. And Isagi Yoichi, the boy who devoured concepts, was now staring at the most formidable problem of his life: a rival who saw football not as a sport of passion, but as a science of domination.