Arsenal was preparing for a warm-up match after their training session.
Most of the squad had already left, leaving only Kai and Chamberlain behind.
"Why didn't they take us?" Chamberlain complained, clearly frustrated. "It's just a warm-up match—there was a chance for us to play."
Pat Rice responded calmly, "You're not ready yet."
He then gestured toward Kai. "Learn from him."
Chamberlain turned and noticed that Kai had already started jogging around the pitch, quietly beginning his warm-up without any fuss about being left out.
Under Pat's watchful gaze, Chamberlain muttered something under his breath and followed Kai.
As they jogged together, Chamberlain couldn't hold back his curiosity. "Don't you want to play in the match?"
"Of course I do," Kai replied without hesitation.
"Then why didn't you say something? Protest with me."
"It wouldn't make a difference," Kai answered simply.
He added, "Stick to the training plan and stay focused. There'll be chances in the future."
Chamberlain looked at Kai's calm expression. He opened his mouth to argue but ultimately said nothing.
Kai had his reasons for not rushing. For one, his labor certification hadn't been processed yet, so he wasn't eligible to play. Second, Pat had told him that he would need at least a season to transition into a capable midfielder.
And most importantly, he was only 17. Time was on his side.
After the warm-up, they moved into the next session, ball control.
Midfielders handle the ball the most during matches, so their control has to be top-tier.
Chamberlain had a solid foundation in this area, with good dribbling and the ability to break through defenses.
Kai, by comparison, wasn't as polished technically. But his strengths were clear—he had a knack for passing and, more notably, stealing the ball.
His ability to anticipate and intercept stunned Pat.
At Pat's instruction, Chamberlain kept changing direction to try and outmaneuver Kai.
After several failed attempts, a flustered Chamberlain tripped over himself and fell to the ground.
Lying on the pitch, he called out, "Coach, I told you—he knows exactly where I'm going to break!"
Pat was equally astonished.
He'd never seen a defensive style quite like this—it bordered on precognition.
Still processing what he'd witnessed, Pat leaned over, grabbed Kai's arm, and asked, "How are you reading his moves so accurately?"
Kai simply replied, "Intuition and talent."
"Intuition?" Pat echoed, clearly intrigued.
"There are some other details involved, too," Kai added.
Now that Kai had revealed this talent, Pat couldn't hide his excitement. It was as if fate had dropped a gem into his lap. With development in ball control and midfield coordination, they might just shape one of the greats.
And even if things didn't pan out as hoped, Kai could still become an outstanding defensive midfielder.
Kai saw the change in Pat's expression but couldn't guess what he was thinking.
After a pause, Pat asked enthusiastically, "Anything else you're especially good at?"
Kai scratched his head. "Does passing count?"
"Passing?" Pat perked up. "How good are we talking?"
Kai grinned. "Have you seen that Ronaldinho ad—you know, the one where he keeps hitting the crossbar?"
Pat and Chamberlain stared at him, surprised.
"You can do that?" they said in unison.
Kai smiled and placed the ball about fifteen meters from the goal.
They both followed.
"So you can hit the bar like Ronaldinho?" Pat asked.
"Not quite like him," Kai said. "I can't control the bounce, but I can hit the bar."
Chamberlain asked, "How consistent are you?"
Kai placed his foot on the ball and said, "I've tested it before. Out of 50 attempts, the first 10 are usually spot-on—I can hit all ten. After that, accuracy starts to drop."
"Fatigue," Pat nodded. "Even so, hitting all ten is impressive."
Kai nodded and set the ball.
He stepped back three meters, took a running start, and shot.
The ball struck the goalpost with a sharp ding and bounced back.
Kai quickly adjusted, juggling the ball with his foot before letting it rise to chest height. He turned, raised his left foot, and fired.
Ding!
This time, the ball clipped the goalpost and deflected off the fence.
Kai nodded in satisfaction. "That's what I meant."
Pat and Chamberlain stood in stunned silence.
Chamberlain pointed. "Does it usually bounce back to you like that?"
Kai shook his head. "Not often."
Chamberlain let out a breath. "Good. Thought you were Merlin or something."
Pat, however, focused on Kai's feet. He had used both his left and right feet for the ball to strike the bar.
He was ambidextrous.
That was rare, even in pro football.
Pat forced himself to stay composed and began mentally listing Kai's strengths.
First, elite defensive instincts—a potential defensive wall.
Second, precise long passing from either foot. That kind of flexibility opened the door for counterattacks from any area. If his short passing was just as accurate, it would be an incredible asset.
And finally, as Wenger had mentioned, Kai seemed to possess an exceptional ability to read the game.
Pat's lips trembled slightly.
This was a number 10 in the making.
An elite central midfielder.
Who in their right mind put this kid at full-back? What a waste. And for only 800,000 euros?
Pat couldn't believe it.
His gaze toward Kai shifted noticeably.
There was a spark of something new in his eyes.
Right now, Kai looked like the future centerpiece of Arsenal's midfield—a pillar for the next decade.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Pat barked, "Ball training! Now—immediately!"
Kai's passing technique was self-taught. He'd spent over a decade honing that skill. He wasn't sure how he'd measure up to top-tier professionals, but in this area, he felt confident.
...
That evening, Kai walked out of the training center with a ball in his hand.
The afternoon session had been tough, and Pat seemed even stricter than usual. Each of them had a different focus.
Chamberlain had to refine his passing.
Kai needed to master ball control.
Pat had emphasized there were no shortcuts—it was all about building muscle memory.
So Kai dribbled all the way home.
When he reached Billy's house, he noticed a small figure at the door, hurriedly trying to put something in his backpack.
"Kevin, what are you doing?"
Startled, Kevin spun around and lowered his head. "Nothing."
Kai frowned.
He noticed the bruises on Kevin's face.
From what Billy had told him and what he'd observed, it was likely Kevin was being bullied at school.
Unfortunately, that was all too common—teenagers caught in a rush of hormones, trying to be tough and attacking others.
Looking at Kevin, Kai sighed.
The boy didn't want to talk.
Kai simply smiled and patted his shoulder. "Let's go inside."
"We're back!" Kai called out as they stepped into Billy's house.
Kevin dashed upstairs, clearly trying to avoid being seen in that state.
Billy came out of the bedroom. "Did you play in the warm-up match today?"
Kai offered an awkward smile.
After a brief explanation, Billy patted his shoulder. "Don't worry—your time will come."
Kai nodded. He wasn't in a rush.
He wanted to build a solid foundation for the future.
"The season's about to start. I hope Arsenal can lift a trophy this year," Billy said with a sigh.
It had been nine years since Arsenal had won a major title.
The club was in a difficult spot, especially after losing Cesc Fabregas.
Some fans believed Fabregas was the root of the problem and that his departure might help the team.
Kai said nothing.
He didn't want to crush Billy's optimism.
But deep down, he knew: Arsenal was in for a rough start to the season.