Chapter 153: The Merchandise
The massive screen on the side of the pitch flickered to life, and Jinpachi Ego's hollow-eyed face filled the frame. He was holding a crystal wine glass, swirling a dark liquid as he spoke.
'Is that guy seriously drinking on the job?' Barou's brow furrowed in annoyance. As a man who lived by a strict, almost religious code of self-discipline, he found any lack of professionalism repulsive.
"Don't get the wrong idea. It's just grape soda," Ego said, as if he could sense Barou's judgment through the lens. He tilted the glass toward the camera, showing off the harmless bubbles before going back to swirling it.
"Welcome to the world of professional soccer. It's a lot like a high-stakes game of musical chairs," Ego continued, his voice dropping into that cold, lecture-like drone. "To join a top-tier organization, you have to fight for a seat. And every organization has its own unique philosophy—its own water, if you will."
He dipped a finger into the soda. "Rationality. Freedom. Order. There isn't just one way to survive in these waters. You either fail to adapt and drown in agony, or you survive long enough to stain the water with your own color."
Ego paused, a small, twisted smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, and by the way, running away is always an option. I won't force you to stay. If you can't handle the pressure, crawling back to your old life is a perfectly valid way to end your career."
Kira felt nothing but indifference toward the speech. He and Barou had already carved out their territory in Ubers; they were the engines of the team, not the scrap metal. But he glanced at Sendo and Gen Fukaku. Both of them looked pale, the weight of Ego's words clearly sinking in. They were the ones currently gasping for air in the Ubers' tank.
"Now, let's talk numbers. The second match of the week has concluded. Earlier today, Germany and Spain finished their bout with a 3-2 victory for Bastard Munchen. Which means..."
The screen behind Ego erupted with a cascade of names and numbers.
Kira stared at the display, his eyes widening as he found his own name. A digital ticker underneath his profile picture blurred with speed before finally clicking into place.
100,000,000 Yen.
'What the hell is Ego pulling now?' Kira thought.
"What is this? What do these numbers mean?"
The pitch was a chorus of confusion. Both the Ubers and P.X.G. players were looking at the screen as if it were written in an alien language.
"I see you've noticed the price tags," Ego said, his voice brimming with a strange kind of satisfaction. "I'll keep it simple: those are your annual salaries. This entire Neo Egoist League is being broadcast live to every club owner and scout on the planet."
As he spoke, the screen began flashing faces—men in expensive suits from every corner of the globe, watching the match footage with the intensity of hungry predators.
"No way…" Nanase whispered, his voice trembling.
Even Kira felt a jolt of shock. He knew Blue Lock was getting big, but an international human auction? This was a different level of exposure. The biggest powerhouses in the world were watching his every move.
"These owners are judging your value in real-time," Ego explained. "After every match, they place their bids. The highest offer on the board is the objective proof of your current worth as a human asset."
A chime signaled that the bidding window for this round had closed. The numbers froze.
"Damn... I'm only at five million?" Aryu muttered, looking genuinely offended by his valuation.
"Fifteen million. Not bad, but I'm worth more than that," Aiku said, though he seemed satisfied enough to have a baseline.
"Niko is at ten million," Aiku noted, scrolling through the list. "Rin is at forty-one million? Shidou at eighteen? And Karasu at twelve?"
Karasu's eyes scanned the top of the rankings, his breath hitching when he saw the lead. "Are you kidding me? This Michael Kaiser kid is at three hundred million?"
Karasu confirmed he hadn't miscounted the zeros, then looked at the name right below Kaiser. His rival.
"Kira... one hundred million? Why is the gap between us that huge?" Karasu's head felt like it was going to explode.
"Once the league is over, these bids become the starting point for your actual professional contracts," Ego said, letting the silence hang until the players had processed the weight of it. "This is your market value. This is what the world thinks you are worth."
'A bid from England? Manshine City?' Kira stared at the name of the club. It wasn't Ubers. That was a surprise; he'd assumed the Italian club would be the first to try and lock him down. He had zero history with the London-based team, yet they'd come in with a massive opening offer.
What Kira didn't know was that while Ubers had put in a solid 90 million yen bid, most clubs were still in a 'wait and see' mode since it was only the first game. The Iron-Blooded Blues were different because of Chris Blake.
Blake had gone to his owner—a man named Abu—and spent an hour raving about Kira. He claimed the kid was his 'number one fan' and a 'protege in the making,' insisting they had to sign him before anyone else realized he was the next great superstar. Abu had watched the footage and didn't see a single trace of Blake's flamboyant style in Kira's play, but he saw the raw potential. To get Blake to shut up and to secure a blue-chip prospect, he'd authorized the 100-million-yen bid. Ubers hadn't expected a sniper from the Premier League to jump the gun, but they weren't worried. There were still more games to play.
"Not bad, Kira. That's a hell of a valuation," Aiku said, walking over with a look of pure envy. "Makes my fifteen million look like pocket change."
"I'm still at zero..." Sendo muttered, his voice hollow. Gen Fukaku looked just as crushed. The harsh reality of the bench was that you didn't exist in the eyes of the market.
"One more thing," Ego added, his voice regaining its sharp edge. "Aside from the foreign players, the Top 23 players on this salary ranking at the end of the league will automatically form the roster for the U-20 World Cup team."
"For the superstars, this is a stage to show off. For the rest of you, it's a meat grinder where you either prove your worth or get discarded. This is the intersection where Blue Lock meets the world market."
"Tch. He's treating us like livestock," Barou spat. He played for his own throne, not to be some line item on a spreadsheet. Ego's casual talk of 'bids' and 'valuations' made his skin crawl.
"You are merchandise, Barou. That's all a player is," Ego said, setting his soda glass down. "The players are the products, and the teams are the shops. That is the reality of professional sports."
"Kira is the most popular product right now because he proved his quality. The market responded to the 'Ryosuke Kira' brand, and he was assigned a price. It's that simple."
Kira stood there, listening to the cold logic. He realized then that in the eyes of the men in the suits, they weren't people with dreams. They were just high-end goods sitting on a shelf, waiting to see who had the deepest pockets.