22 The Third Round of Selection

At nine o’clock in the morning, the first match of the third round of selections was about to begin.

You, along with several other guides, arrived punctually at the stadium’s viewing stands, holding the schedule and roster in your hands.

Three teams were set to play five matches in total, with six-hour intervals between each, all aimed at selecting the top two best players from each team who champion coexistence.

The entire third round, spanning five matches, would last about a day and a half. You weren’t sure if it was because the Sentinels naturally possessed extraordinary stamina or if it was due to Huixin’s relentless rigor... Having accompanied Caesar during his daily training sessions before, you leaned toward the former.

As for the guides, Huixin required your mandatory attendance for the first two matches, leaving the last three optional. Before the official start, Huixin held a brief meeting with you all.

“For this U20 tournament, three guides are allowed per team. I will finalize the guide roster based on the lists you submitted and past match-ups. The usual counseling assignments remain unchanged this week.”

Since these Sentinels had yet to be assigned fixed guides, the selection was necessary to ensure the Blue Prison could perform at its peak. Of course, compared to the fierce battles you were about to witness on the field, the pressure on the guides was considerably lighter.

Team A was facing Team B, with several familiar faces among the five-on-five players, including Senchi.

The viewing stands were a fair distance from the field, but the Sentinels’ keen hearing picked up your cheering. Senchi, hearing you, turned and gave you a thumbs-up with a confident smile.

On the other side, Rin noticed the commotion and glanced in your direction. His expression had been impassive since before the match began, but after seeing your interaction with Senchi, his mood seemed even more sullen.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Though Rin’s face was as stoic as Sae Itoshi’s, when he looked at you like that, you always felt his coldness was a façade, a kind of immature aloofness. Perhaps because Rin had previously shown you moments of hope and helplessness, the ordinarily sharp Sentinel seemed softened in your eyes.

In good spirits, you waved at him, your smile just beginning to bloom when someone stepped in front of you.

Ryusei Shido flamboyantly spread his arms. His pink eyes gleamed excitedly beneath golden lashes. “Wow, she’s cheering for me!”

Not satisfied, he ran toward the stands, shouting, “If I end up with the highest goals, how about dating me?”

“Kill you—”

Rin’s muscles tensed instantly as he swung his arm forcefully, smacking Shido’s face from behind.

Shido reacted quickly, turning his head and yelling provocatively, “So fierce! Guides won’t like Sentinels like you~”

“Go die!”

...What’s going on with these two?

Your smile faded gradually.

The loudspeaker crackled with Huixin’s prompt to prepare—the game was about to start.

At the whistle, Shido charged forward with the ball at blazing speed, clearly in a great mood and form.

The Sentinels on the field sprinted quickly, and you rapidly identified some unfamiliar faces from the roster photos.

After Shido was intercepted, he swiftly passed the ball to Kiyoshi, who had rushed forward, and the players dashed toward the other half of the field. Senchi sprinted to intercept the constantly shifting ball control—but Shido was faster. Surrounded by opponents, he leapt and executed a bicycle kick without even glancing back at the goal.

Goal. The first score.

Everyone on the field froze, and those watching below were stunned.

That tricky, almost impossible shooting posture defied belief. Not only did Shido possess explosive power as a Sentinel, but his flexibility was exceptional.

He nonchalantly snorted, demonstrating his philosophy of play to everyone present.

The game resumed with the Blue Prison’s Sentinels executing a series of fluid maneuvers and tactical shifts that left you in awe.

Is this the standard of the Blue Prison?

You had already thought them impressive, and this wasn’t even the national team—it was hard to imagine how the world’s top-level Sentinels played. Even after cramming a lot of football knowledge in recent days, nothing compared to witnessing it live.

Fierce physical clashes unfolded on the field. Team B took the lead by one point, but Rin quickly equalized with another goal. When the whistle blew, the Sentinels’ expressions varied; you could sense the anxiety of those unable to showcase their scoring value.

Such brutal competition.

Your gaze settled on Senchi, who was half-crouched, tying his shoelaces. Sweat trickled down his cheek, and his once-flowing rose-red hair appeared somewhat disheveled. Hearing your voice, he immediately stood and rejoined the run, his bulging muscles moving with elegant strength, reflecting his indomitable spirit.

Senchi ran faster and faster, even accelerating once more, his hair flying behind him. Like a sleek cheetah darting across the field, he successfully assisted in scoring.

2 to 3. The score was tight. As Rin prepared to shoot again, Shido suddenly burst out to steal the ball. Senchi seized the opportunity—your eyes followed his every move, captivated by the dynamic flow of the game.

Such vivid, beautiful energy, as if ablaze with vibrant life...

You vaguely recalled the tender, innocent face of the neighbor boy from your childhood, not much older than you; now Senchi had grown into a tall, powerful Sentinel, his rose-red hair embodying the very essence of his speed, utterly uninhibited.

Just over ten minutes had passed when Rin and Shido clashed again. Everyone hurried to intervene, and the scene descended into chaos until Huixin’s loudspeaker warning restored order.

...Truly the Blue Prison, committed to egoism.

The first round ended with Team A narrowly victorious.

The Sentinels, breathless and thoughtful, gradually left the field.

In your eyes, it had been a thrilling match. You now somewhat understood why this sport captivated audiences worldwide.

“Senchi!”

At the exit, you called out to him, your face still flushed with excitement from watching the game.

Senchi, on the losing side, looked a little dejected but showed surprise upon seeing you.

“Were you waiting for me?”

He approached.

“Yes,” you nodded, smiling as you shared your thoughts, “I’m very happy that my first live match watched was one you played in.”

“I’ve been watching you all along. You played really well!”