Bringing the whistle to his mouth, Kento blew it, sharp and piercing.
The sound ripped across the training ground.
Haruma, Yuya, Raya, Souma and Koujin exploded forward at the sa ti, resistance bands strapped around their waists stretching to their limit.
Their cleats tore into the grass, ripping up dirt as they drove forward with brutal force.
Behind them, the assistants dug their heels in and strained hard, arms shaking as they fought to hold the tension.
"Release!" Kento sensei roars.
The bands snapped free and Instantly, all of them burst ahead at full speed.
Haruma sprinted the fastest with focused intensity. Raya and Souma with determined smiles. Yuya drove ahead with his jaw clenched tight while Koujin tore forward with a wild, ferocious look carved across his face.
As they tore forward at full speed, balls were fired into different channels ahead of them.
Each forward attacked their lane without hesitation.
Haruma struck with ruthless precision. Raya finished with controlled technique. Souma unleashed his shot with raw power. Yuya finished with smooth grace. And Koujin attacked the ball with sharp, explosive intensity.
One after another the footballs scread toward the net.
Then ca the repeated violence of impact as the sound of balls crashing into the back of the net echoed across the entire training ground…
Next the group, including Izaya, Nagisa, Jiho, Ryotaro, Jotaro and Hiryuu moved endlessly between the cones, their rhythm almost hypnotic.
Sprinting, receiving, turning, releasing, then imdiately moving again.
The ball never stayed still for more than a second. Neither did they.
Boots skimd across the grass as short passes snapped sharply between them, each touch arriving like a reflex already decided. Every player scanned over his shoulder before the ball even reached his feet, reading space before it even opened.
Heavy breathing layered over the constant rhythm of quick touches and sharp pivots.
Nagisa stepped forward and played it first-ti, clean, instant release, then imdiately shuffled backward, dragging his position to seal the space behind him.
In the sa flow, Jotaro was exploding diagonally into the next lane without a call, bursting into the open pocket as if he had already seen it form.
No flashy skills. No wasted movent. Just them flowing together like a single machine, covering every blade of grass without ever slowing down.
Kento kept close watch on them, eyes tracking every movent across the drill.
His voice cut in at intervals, short, precise calls, correcting spacing, timing, and direction.
The midfield line kept flowing under that pressure, adjusting instantly without breaking rhythm, each instruction absorbed and turned into sharper movent…
Kabuto, Gaku, Tomoya, Arata, Takezu, Senji, and Kota moved as one unit, locked into perfect synchronization across the grid.
They shifted between cone channels in sharp bursts, the shape of their line constantly tightening and stretching like a living system.
The ball snapped from foot to foot at relentless speed, never lingering, never slowing.
The formation compressed in an instant, then exploded outward again as Takezu stepped forward into space while Gaku rotated cleanly behind him without breaking stride.
Boots scraped hard against the grass, cutting through turf as short, urgent commands echoed nonstop through the drill.
One-touch passes now snapped through the grid at a higher tempo, faster, sharper, almost violent in rhythm.
Sweat tracked down their faces as fatigue began to bite into their legs, but the shape never fractured. Every movent was compensated instantly, each player reading the next gap before it could even open, sliding into position like instinct itself was guiding them.
The unit held together under pressure, shifting, compressing, expanding, never losing structure.
From a distance, it no longer looked like seven individuals. It looked chanical. A single defensive organism moving as one body, absorbing every pass, every trigger, every change in direction.
Kento stood watching with narrowed focus, clapping a few tis, asured, satisfied, eyes locked firmly on their synchronized motion as the drill continued to burn forward…
Kurogami was moving rapidly between the cones, gloves brushing against the grass as he stayed low through every sharp shuffle.
Sweat dripped from his jaw while his feet kept adjusting nonstop.
At the final cone, he exploded sideways into a full-stretch dive, instantly rolling back onto his feet before the coach fired another ball toward the opposite corner.
The save barely left his gloves before he was moving again, shuffling across the goal line with exhausted legs and burning lungs…
Taking a deep breath, Koujin surged forward and struck through the ball with brutal force, sending a low, screaming bullet toward goal.
At the net, Rensora reacted instantly, as he pushed off hard, diving full stretch across the line, body fully extended as he t the shot and shoved it away in a sharp, controlled parry.
And without missing any beat he hurriedly sprang back to his feet as another strike ca, this ti from Nagisa, quicker, tighter, rising toward him with less ti to react.
Rensora, still struggling on his footing, raised his forearms, absorbing the impact high, blocking it away before stepping forward through the rebound, and in one motion, he gathered the loose ball tightly into his chest.
Kento clapped firmly, voice cutting through the drill with clear approval, praise sharp and imdiate, while keeping his eyes fixed on Rensora's control and composure under pressure…
Kabuto, Souma, Gaku, Rensora, and Tomoya stood in a straight line, hands locked behind their heads as they held a deep squat on the grass.
Their thighs shook under the strain, muscles trembling violently, each second of stillness carving deeper burn into their legs.
But they didn't break form.
"Jump!" Kento sensei shouts out.
All of them exploded upward at the sa ti, driving their knees and necks upward as high as possible before landing and dropping straight back into the squat hold again, holding for almost a minute before again exploding upwards.
Repeating again and again. Each jump beca slower as exhaustion set into their legs, but they kept forcing themselves upward, sweat dripping from their jaws onto the field beneath them…
Hiryuu, Nagisa, Izaya, Jotaro, and Yuya were locked inside a tight grid, shuffling at relentless pace as direction changed on command.
Their legs burned, but they kept cutting through space, sharp pivots, explosive stops, imdiate re-acceleration.
And at the next command, they dropped instantly, hands to ground, driving through mountain climbers at high speed, cores tightening under strain.
Then they snapped back up in one violent motion.
High-knee sprints exploded across the field, each step pounding harder than the last as fatigue tried to drag them down, but their feet never stopped moving…
Takezu, Shinji, Kota, Ryota, and Arata lined up along the touchline, bodies coiled in anticipation.
The whistle snapped through the air.
They burst forward together, ten ters in a straight, explosive sprint, boots tearing into the grass.
In the sa motion, they dropped hard, hands hitting the turf, ripping through five fast push-ups under tension.
Without any pause they quickly snapped back up instantly, breath sharp, legs already shifting as they shuffled sideways to the next cone, controlled, precise, never crossing their feet as the drill pushed forward without rcy.
At the second cone, they exploded straight into a backward sprint on the return, legs already trembling, each step fighting fatigue as it crept deeper into their muscles.
Sweat were pouring down their faces, breaths turning heavier after every transition, the rhythm never slowing.
Sprint. Drop. Push-ups. Rise. Shuffle. Backpedal. Repeat, no break in between, no room to fall out of sync…
Drenched in sweat, Haruma now sprinted through the mannequins like a predator unleashed, boots tearing across the grass and as he exploded the final mannequin he positioned himself to shoot. But, before he could strike, Kurogami had already charged off his line with terrifying speed.
And now the distance between them vanished instantly.
Haruma's eyes narrowed, and with one touch he shifted the ball slightly left to which Kurogami reacted instantly and threw his entire body across the angle before the shot even ca.
Clenching his jaw, Haruma fired anyway and the strike slamd directly into Kurogami's outstretched arm, the impact echoed aloud.
The ball rebounded and spun loose only a few feet away.
But Haruma wasn't stopping. He chased the rebound like a madman and struck again from almost point-blank range.
BAM!
Kurogami blocked it with his shoulder, this ti a smirk on his face before crashing hard onto the grass.
The ball spun loose inside the box. And with smirk both of them lunged toward it at the exact sa second, one desperate to bury it, the other willing to break himself to stop it.
On the sidelines, the new players stood frozen, jaws slightly parted, eyes wide, watching the madness unfold in front of them.
anwhile Kabuto and Jiho stood with the sa proud smirk, quiet pride flickering in their eyes
Izaya out of excitent was leaning forward with an excited grin, Raya held a warm smile with folded arms, and Nagisa kept a faint, composed look, as all eyes stayed locked on the pitch.
"Damn! They're monsters!" Souma blurted out, eyes wide with disbelief.
"No doubt," Rensora replied in a steady tone. "What else would you expect from the very best of JFC?"
"Yeah, that's our captain and vice captain!" Koujin added with a smirk.
All of them kept their eyes locked forward as the two at the center reset their positions, preparing to repeat the drill.
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