Prince | Blue Lock

an' i don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation (oh no, not me)

Barou's frustration reached its peak as he slammed his fist into the locker, creating a resounding thud that echoed through the locker room. His teammates, already intimidated by his aggressive demeanor, flinched at the display of his anger.

Although, Barou didn't care as he seethed with disbelief and anger, unable to comprehend how he had lost to someone he considered a nobody. Who the hell is this person? He had never heard a single thing about them, and yet they had bested him on the field.

The thought crossed his mind that perhaps this was all part of Ego's manipulative plan. It wouldn't be surprising for Ego to send someone like that to the team, a player capable of shaking up the status quo and challenging the hierarchy. It made sense in a twisted way, as Ego reveled in his control and enjoyed placing talented individuals in seemingly unworthy positions.

Barou couldn't fathom how he, the King, found himself labeled as the lowest weakling among the group. The sheer audacity of such a notion fueled his anger even further. How dare they underestimate his skills and talents? In his mind, he was destined for greatness, a force to be reckoned with on the field. Yet, here he was, facing defeat at the hands of an unknown person.

His clenched fists trembled as he tried to figure out his next move. The fire in his eyes burned brightly as he vowed to himself that he would prove his worth, no matter the cost. Barou was determined to overcome obstacles and prove himself as the rightful King, ignoring any doubts or criticisms others had about him.

Barou stormed out of the locker room, his face contorted with rage and determination. The veins bulged on his forehead as he clenched his fists tightly. The weight of his defeat weighed heavily on him, fueling the fire of his fury.

"I am going to destroy you, you self-proclaimed Emperor!" Barou seethed through gritted teeth, his voice laced with venom. His footsteps echoed with purpose as he left his teammates behind, their feeble cries of concern falling on deaf ears.

The intensity of Barou's anger radiated in the air, leaving behind a dark tension in his wake. His mind raced with thoughts of vengeance and reclaiming his perceived rightful place. The humiliation of losing to someone he considered beneath him fueled his burning desire for retribution.

With every step he took, Barou's determination grew stronger, his muscles tensing with unyielding resolve. The echo of his footsteps seemed to echo the beat of his racing heart, as he vowed to exact his revenge upon the one who dared to stand in his way.

Leaving his trembling and cowering teammates behind, Barou embarked on a solitary path towards his ultimate goal—bringing down the so-called Emperor and reclaiming his rightful throne on the soccer field.

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"If anything, him saying 'to create soccer from zero' has to be a hint," Hyoma pointed out, his damp hair clinging to the towel as he dried it. It was the day after their victorious match against Team X, and Team Z had gathered for a small meeting, anxiously waiting to learn about their next opponents from Ego. [Name] nodded in agreement, acknowledging the validity of Hyoma's observation.

"I have an idea about what he meant by creating a 'one'," [Name] chimed in, capturing the attention of the rest of the team. Faces turned towards them, eagerly wanting an answer.

"So? What is it?" Raichi asked impatiently, a look of curiosity mixed with impatience on his face.

"In yesterday's game, everyone was solely focused on scoring for themselves in the beginning," [Name] tried to explain, showing how important their discovery was.

However, Igarashi interjected, pointing out the obvious. "Well, isn't that the point of the game?"

Exhaling a silent sigh, [Name] realized they needed to spell it out for their teammates, who seemed to have missed the underlying message.