Chapter 6: A Successful Player

Tuk, tuk, tuk.

Kai skillfully trapped the ball, alternating between both feet to maintain stability.

As he controlled it with consistent height and rhythm, he began using his thighs, head, and back, keeping the ball afloat with dynamic movements.

Despite the near-acrobatic display, the ball never touched the ground.

Tuk, tuk. Tuk, tuk, tuk!

He kept the ball within the marked boundary, freely controlling it to sharpen his sense of touch.

"Not bad."

Satisfied, Kai flicked the ball with his heel, sending it over his head. Then, raising his right foot, he trapped the ball between his instep and shin.

As the ball threatened to slip away, he carefully balanced it before letting it drop to the ground.

Kai slowly rolled the ball forward with his left foot.

Then, with precise form, he curled the ball using his inside foot.

It traced a beautiful arc, heading straight for the top-left corner of the goal.

The net rippled elegantly.

Despite the impressive shot, Kai bit his lip in dissatisfaction.

"My ankle strength is still lacking."

The ball traveled a bit too slowly.

It might work here, but in a professional match, it wouldn't be as easy.

Unless the goalkeeper made a huge mistake, they would block it with ease.

Shaking his head, Kai took a deep breath.

"I need to let go of impatience."

Rushing things would only be detrimental.

It wasn't as if he was going to the first team right away—there was no need to push himself unnecessarily.

Picking up the ball, he started dribbling it toward the center line, alternating between slow and fast touches.

Tuk, tuk. Tuk, tuk, tuk, tuk! Tuk, tuk.

His ball control was no longer an issue.

His touch had become precise and refined.

The rough touches he had displayed on the first day were long gone.

"Hoo. Not bad."

After nearly three weeks of keeping the ball close to his body, he had managed to refine his timing.

Switching things up with a flip-flap, he then smoothly bypassed an imaginary defender with a La Croqueta.

Another imaginary opponent appeared immediately.

Feigning with a body feint, he used La Croqueta again to breeze past them.

Was the opponent too easy?

After a moment of contemplation, Kaidecided to bring out a mental image of Elmanuel Frimpong.

Among all the players he had encountered since regressing, Frimpong had the best man-marking ability.

Kai smirked mischievously.

"I'm going to leave you completely helpless."

Having trained alongside Frimpong for the past few days, he had already grasped his tendencies.

Recreating him in his mind wasn't difficult.

Tuk, tuk. Tuk, tuk, tuk.

As Kai approached, Frimpong immediately closed in with aggressive pressure.

Kai spun 360 degrees with the ball, breaking free from the pressure.

Frimpong flailed momentarily and stumbled as Kai accelerated past him.

Despite being well-regarded in his debut season, Frimpong was helpless against Kai's dribbling.

"Huh?"

Falling for a simple body feint, Frimpong conceded an easy shooting angle.

Kai wasted no time.

A clean strike sent the ball curling into the corner.

The net rippled lightly.

Whoosh!

Kai tilted his head.

"Did I miscalculate?"

He had spent the past few weeks closely analyzing Frimpong's playstyle.

His movements, his defensive tendencies, his habits—kai had memorized everything and projected them into reality.

His methodology had worked in the past.

His assessment shouldn't have been wrong.

"Either my form has improved, I chose the wrong opponent, or both."

Regardless, he didn't let himself become complacent.

The Premier League was a brutal environment teeming with monsters.

It was fast, physical, and unforgiving. Without both mental and physical strength, one couldn't survive.

"Hoo. Alright."

After steadying his breath, Kai dismissed his imaginary Frimpong and continued his individual training.

With time to spare before team practice, the field was empty.

Kai maximized every second.

The Premier League wasn't a place where raw talent alone could guarantee success.

Just as he was sweating profusely—

"Arata!"

The reserve team coach, Benfield, called out while walking onto the training ground.

Kai stopped dribbling and greeted him warmly.

"Hello, coach!"

"You're here early again?"

"Of course! Hard work is key."

Benfield nodded but couldn't help offering some advice.

"Talent alone isn't enough. You never know what the future holds, so don't neglect your academics."

"I won't."

Benfield didn't push further.

Too much advice could sometimes backfire—especially when dealing with young talents with fiery tempers.

Like handling fine china, one had to be delicate.

Passing the ball to Kai, Benfield commented,

"I've been watching you. Your dribbling is much smoother than on the first day."

"Effort pays off, after all."

"If effort alone worked, everyone would be in the first team."

"Haha."

Benfield smirked and patted Kai's shoulder.

"No need to be modest. In my opinion, they should be calling you up to the first team instead of Frimpong."

"Haha, is that so?"

"He still needs to work on his fitness... Wait, why am I even discussing this with you?"

Kai simply smiled.

Benfield clicked his tongue.

He had heard that Kai not only excelled at football but also had top academic grades.

Now, after talking to him, he realized—this kid was a monster.

He looked like a teenager, but having a conversation with him felt like speaking with a seasoned professional.

It was an oddly unsettling experience.

"Coach, what's today's training about?"

"Tactical meeting."

"Oh, that sounds fun."

Benfield looked dumbfounded.

"Most players find tactical meetings boring as hell, but you actually enjoy them?"

---

"The meeting was so boring."

"Right? I'd rather be out playing."

"Arata! Want to join us for a kickabout?"

As Kai packed up his materials, he gave an apologetic smile.

"Not today. You guys go ahead."

"Alright! See you tomorrow!"

"Yeah, see you."

In his past life, he had alienated himself from his teammates by completely obliterating them 10-0 in a scrimmage.

The nickname Evil Genius followed him, and he ended up ostracized.

Back then, he hadn't cared much.

Being alone felt easier.

But football wasn't an individual sport—it was a team game.

There was no need to repeat past mistakes.

And who knew?

Maybe someone else had also regressed like him.

Kai nudged a drowsy Frimpong awake.

"Hmm? It's over?"

"Yeah, it's over."

"Yawn! That was a great nap. Tactical meetings always put me to sleep."

"And yet you're supposed to be heading to the first team?"

Frimpong rubbed his eyes, still groggy.

"You'll make it before me. I'm still recovering from my injury."

"You're almost back to full fitness."

"No, no. I'm not there yet. But once I am, Jack won't stand a chance."

"You? Better than Jack Wilshere?"

"Of course! You have no idea how good I was before my injury!"

Frimpong jumped up and started showing off stepovers.

"I used to destroy defenders with this."

"Oh, I can see that."

Throwing an arm over Kai's shoulder, Frimpong grinned.

"I'll thread you killer passes, and you'll bang in the goals! It'll be perfect in the first team!"

"Sure."

Kai didn't have high expectations.

He just hoped Frimpong's future turned out brighter than in his past life.

As they were about to leave, Benfield called out.

"Arata!"

"Yes, coach?"

"Can we talk for a bit?"

"Of course. You go ahead, Frimpong."

Frimpong looked disappointed.

"Can I wait in the parking lot?"

"For another gaming rematch?"

"Obviously! I need revenge for yesterday!"

Benfield chuckled, saying it would only take ten minutes.

As Kai walked with Benfield, their conversation naturally revolved around one thing—football.

"By the way, Wenger wants to meet you this week. You available?"

Kai grinned.

"Of course!"