Eventually, the hall filled up, and as the last few people trickled in through the doors, the trio of boys found themselves hemmed in by the crowd. Binck took Div's phone, causing the tall boy to groan tiredly while Infi helped him to his feet.

"Binck, give it baaack...." He gently tapped Infi's shoulder, instantly grabbing his undivided attention. Pavlov's Bell. Binck thought, almost aloud. "Can you get my phone?" he asked the boy as curious purple eyes conceded to his tone.

Infi glared jokingly at Binck. "Give him his phone back."

(A/N: @tchihirios MIGHT have been right)

Binck huffed in response, handing him his phone. You spoil him too much, Infi. How is he supposed to become the top striker if you do everything for him? Despite his thoughts, he was smiling - it was nice to have some familiar faces here. "Infi, why do you spoil him?"

"He's my treasure." Infi spoke matter-of-factly, slinging a friendly arm around Div's hunched shoulders. "He agreed to come here too, it's the least I can do!”

Binck blinked in surprise at the choice of words. He noticed the embarrassed look on Div's face as he lazily swatted Infi's hand away. He realized exactly what was going on. (Or, at least, so he thought.) "I see..." He said with an awkwardly nervous chuckle.

Something passed through the whole room, a gust of cold air that drew everyone's attention to the main stage. The lights dimmed slightly, and a man dressed entirely in black walked into view.

"And test, test, test.”

Everyone turned to face the man as he tapped his microphone, speaking in a heavy, serious tone.

"Congratulations, diamonds in the rough." A harsh spotlight hit the center of the stage, a bright circle of light illuminating the man. "You are the 300 strikers aged 18 and under chosen by my arbitrary and biased decision making."

So I was right! Binck smiled to himself. We're all strikers. Wait... but why? How will we form teams? How will this Red Latch Project even work, with everyone playing striker?

"And I, well, you can just call me Taifu. I'm the man hired to make sure Japan wins the World Cup." Those words sounded awfully familiar to Binck. Exactly like the man in charge of the Exaltation project, except Binck had never seen someone so scrawny. Does this dude even eat?

Whispers broke out among the crowd. Infi turned to face Binck. "Have you ever heard of him before?" He just shook his head in response, studying the man.

"To win the World Cup, Japan needs one thing, and one thing only."

Taifu's eyes scanned the crowd, landing on Binck momentarily with a cold, dead gaze before he moved on. "

“The best striker in the world. And here at Red Latch, I intend to make one of you three hundred into that person."

A large screen dropped down behind him, showing an animated video. "Starting today, you three hundred will live together at this facility - the Red Latch facility. You will undergo the special training I have devised, and compete against your fellows. You will not be able to go home.”

So it's exactly like Exaltation... Binck shuddered at the thought, but kept listening. Red Latch is supposed to put us directly on the U-20 Team, isn't it?

"If you battle it out and beat the other 299 guys here, you will be the greatest striker in history." Taifu smiled creepily. "That's it. Thank you for listening."