Blue Lock: Phantom Striker

The whistle for the second half blew, sending a sharp echo through the field. Team Z, battered and chaotic from the first half, trudged back onto the pitch. Their faces reflected doubt, frustration, and exhaustion. The scoreboard read 2-0 in favor of Team X, with Barou standing at the center of it all, his domineering presence a monolith of raw power and ruthless precision.

Isagi's mind wasn't on Barou, though. Not yet.

Instead, his eyes darted around the field, mapping out movements, patterns, and tendencies. He had spent the entire first half as an observer, analyzing, storing information, waiting. Now, it was time to hunt.

"Alright, listen up!" Kunigami called out, rallying his teammates. "We can't just let them run over us. We need a proper plan!"

"But what plan?!" Raichi barked. "That bastard Barou just keeps shooting from anywhere, and our team doesn't even know what they're doing!"

The angry blonde midfielder, who had won the striker position in their rock-paper-scissors game, clenched his fists in frustration. He had tried to lead, but his selfish approach had only led to their downfall.

"I have a plan," Isagi's voice cut through the tension.

The others turned to him, surprised. Until now, Isagi had been relatively quiet. But there was something in his expression. Something different.

"I know how we can break them," he continued. "They think we're weak, but we can use that."

Kunigami raised an eyebrow. "Use what?"

Isagi's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Desperation."

As the game resumed, Isagi adjusted his stance. His mind replayed a memory....the puppy.

Years ago, when he had been just another starving street kid, he had found a small, abandoned puppy in an alley. It had been weak, cold, barely clinging to life. Isagi had named it Shiro, after the patches of white fur on its otherwise gray body.

For weeks, he had tried to keep Shiro alive, scavenging for scraps, stealing bits of food when he could. But it had never been enough. The world did not have mercy for the weak.

One morning, he had woken up to find Shiro's tiny body still and lifeless. He had cried, but deep inside, he had known, this was the way of the world. You take what you can, or you don't survive.

Now, standing on the field, he felt it again. That old hunger, that sharp-edged need to take what belonged to others.

And so, he moved.

The moment Team X's midfielder received the ball, Isagi pounced.

With a sharp cut-in, he closed the gap before the opponent could react. His foot flicked out, stealing the ball in an instant, moving as smoothly as a pickpocket swiping a wallet from an unsuspecting victim.

The others barely processed what had happened before Isagi was already sprinting forward.

The move was so clean, so precise, so desperate, that it resembled something more primal than just football.

He called it: "Fangs of the Starving Dog."

The defenders rushed toward him, but Isagi didn't falter. He had no speed advantage, no physical dominance, but he had something else...instinct.

He saw the shifting weight of the defenders, the angles of their feet, the micro-movements in their shoulders. It was just like watching a mark on the street, waiting for the exact moment when they were most vulnerable.

Just before they could box him in, he executed a sudden drop-step feint, cutting left when they expected right. A space opened up for just a second, but that was all he needed.

He struck.

The ball soared past the goalkeeper, sinking into the net with a whispering swish.

GOAL!

Team Z stood frozen for a moment before exploding into celebration.

"Damn, Isagi! Where the hell was that in the first half?!" Raichi shouted, running up to him.

Isagi simply wiped sweat from his forehead, his breathing steady. He wasn't done yet.

With the score now 2-1, the balance of the game shifted. Team X had been dominant because they were in control. But now, they hesitated.

And Isagi saw it.

With each passing minute, his mind sharpened. He stole the ball again and again, using his Fangs of the Starving Dog to disrupt Team X's rhythm. Barou noticed.

The self-proclaimed king scowled. "Hmph. So a rat finally learned how to bite."

With ten minutes left in the match, Barou made his move, cutting through Team Z's defense like a blade through paper.

Kunigami tried to block him, but Barou was too powerful. Another shot.

3-1.

Despite the setback, Isagi didn't stop. He had something new now. A feeling growing inside him, something he had never fully embraced before.

Hunger.

He wasn't just playing football. He was surviving.

Another steal. Another run toward the goal. This time, a defender closed in fast, expecting Isagi to turn away.

But he didn't.

Instead, he let his body fall into the tackle, but at the last second, he flicked the ball sideways with the inside of his foot.

A perfect fake. The defender was sent flying in the wrong direction, and Isagi recovered immediately, sprinting toward the box.

He planted his foot, swung back, and struck the ball with everything he had.

It was an act of defiance. An act of hunger.

The ball sliced through the air, almost silent.

Another goal.

3-2.

As the final minutes ticked down, Isagi's body screamed in exhaustion, but his mind felt more alive than ever.

He finally understood.

Football wasn't just about talent. It wasn't just about physical ability.

It was about taking what was yours.

And Isagi was done being powerless.