FORESIGHT Chapter 22 22: A Statement Made

Arsenal had been running as usual—until a thunderbolt hit.

When Kai walked into the office carrying a baseball bat, Wenger's mind went completely blank.

He had imagined several ways Kai might retaliate, but never sothing this... physical.

This was far beyond anything he had expected.

After quickly gathering the details, Wenger imdiately dispatched staff to contain the situation.

The coaching team rushed into the parking lot, where they found Park Chu-Young unconscious in a corner, stuffed into a sack. They carefully carried him away.

Watching the aftermath of this ss, the staff couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Especially Pat Rice—he felt like he was seeing Kai for the first ti all over again.

This guy, who usually looked so obedient and quiet, had done sothing this outrageous.

They brought Park to the infirmary, where Dr. Levin examined him.

The final diagnosis: Temporary shock and bruises.

Back in Wenger's office, all the coaches gathered, with Kai standing in the middle.

They looked at him, then occasionally glanced at the bat resting against the wall, eyelids twitching.

It was wooden, fortunately.

Still, Kai had stirred up real trouble.

Wenger looked grim. He knew he had failed to act early enough.

He'd been aware that Kai might retaliate but had chosen to wait.

Deep down, he had even hoped Kai would strike back a little, just not like this.

A fight? Fine. That could be handled.

But this wasn't just a scuffle.

Kai stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back, head lowered, and bowed, ready for the punishnt—like a kid caught doing sothing bad.

Wenger sighed to himself.

Still just a 17-year-old kid...

But—

"I need an explanation," Wenger said sternly.

If you're going to do sothing this reckless, you'd better be ready to face the consequences.

He had no intention of letting Kai grow into a brainless brute.

Kai raised his head, voice steady: "It was going to co to a confrontation sooner or later."

That was not the answer Wenger had expected.

He paused. "Why?"

Kai looked sincerely apologetic. "I don't believe you weren't aware of what's been happening in the dressing room these past two months and on the pitch yesterday. But I also get that, as head coach, it's not easy for you to step into personal grievances. I know it was not the best way of handling it, but it was the only way I knew."

"You're saying this was necessary?" Wenger frowned.

Kai nodded slowly. "Yes."

"You beat him up! That's not a fight—that's a one-sided assault!"

Wenger's voice rose—a rare outburst for the usually composed manager.

He might be thin and scholarly, but the man had presence.

Genuine embarrassnt crossed Kai's face. Then he said, "No one likes getting hit. I was nearly taken out yesterday. I even had a conversation with him before the incident due to his previous challenges. I thought we had smoothed things over. Then Bang, I was on the pitch. I have worked too hard not to even be on the Emirates Bench due to a teammate's mistake. "

So of the coaches winced at what he said.

They all glanced at Pat.

Who glared right back—What are you looking at for?

Wenger, who looked like he wanted to explode, cald down and sighed.

"Out!. Go run laps. Don't stop until I say so!"

"Huh?" Kai blinked.

"Now!" Wenger barked. "Laps!"

"Okay, okay! I'm going!"

Kai turned to leave, then paused and looked back.

"Uh... the bat belongs to Kevin. It's a gift from David Seaman—I want to return it."

Wenger's face darkened. He then replied.

"Take your bat. And go!"

"Alright, alright! Prof."

Kai grabbed the bat and took off.

Once he was gone, the coaches glanced at each other.

That's it? It's over?

Pat smiled faintly.

After a beat, Wenger asked, "How's Park?"

"Looks bad, but he'll be fine," Levin said casually. Then, with a hint of amusent, he added, "Most of the hits were to the stomach and butt. If he hadn't flailed and hit his head during the struggle, he wouldn't have passed out."

The coaches let out a collective sigh.

So Kai had shown so restraint.

Wenger said. "This needs to be contained."

"Not easy. Park's agent is already threatening to call the police."

This could beco a real ss.

Wenger thought for a mont. "Tell managent—we intend to keep Park. He's got three years on his contract. Make it clear: if he won't cooperate, he can forget about training or playing during that ti."

Pat grinned.

Cold-blooded.

"And inform everyone in the squad—if anyone dares leak this to the dia, they'll be dealt with."

The staff nodded.

Wenger was making it very clear: Kai was under his protection.

The manager walked to the window and looked out.

He saw Kai running laps, but with a ball at his feet.

On the pitch, Kai looked completely at ease.

He'd beaten the opposition, and he felt it was a pity it had to co to that.

But he felt clear-headed.

This show of strength had been necessary.

Kai didn't want to be so naless benchwarr or locker room background noise. If he was going to have a voice, he needed to prove himself—or make others wary of him. He had fought hard throughout his youth to beco a footnote in football history due to a reckless challenge by a teammate.

When he finally got the chance to play, Kai was confident he could win people over with performance.

As for the fallout, he'd already thought about it.

He hadn't expected Wenger's reaction to be this light, though. The man had seed furious, but his actions showed otherwise.

His punishnt? Laps. In other words, nothing.

So why had Kai turned himself in to Wenger?

Simple.

If he hadn't, and the story blew up, it would've hurt him more.

He needed soone who could cover for him.

And Wenger was the perfect choice.

The club had to act fast to prevent bad press. Kai knew they'd suppress it, but it helped that he'd voluntarily taken the hit.

Wenger might bench him for a while, but Kai could use the ti to train harder.

He'd already planned it all out.

Even so, Wenger's handling of the situation had surprised him.

Kai felt a quiet gratitude toward the old man.

He'd taken a risk—a big one—to make a statent in the locker room.

And it looked like he'd succeeded.

His punishnt? Laps. In other words, nothing.

By the ti dusk settled, Kai was still running.

Eventually, Pat showed up.

"The Korean's willing to reconcile," he said. "But he wants an apology."

Kai blinked. "What did you guys do?"

Pat glared. "Don't ask. Just go to the locker room tomorrow and apologize. Then we're done."

Kai nodded. "If he goes in for another dirty tackle next ti…"

"There is no next ti!" Pat cut him off.

Kai smirked. "Alright, alright. No next ti."

"Get outta here!" Pat said with a smile.

As he watched Kai walk away, Pat's expression grew distant.

Arsenal had invested in this kid.

There was no way they were letting a talent like Kai walk away.

The old Arsenal might've done so—but not now.

"I hope you bring so change to this club," Pat murmured. "God knows Arsenal needs it."

He shook his head and turned, shoulders heavy with the weight of a club still bleeding from Fabregas's betrayal.

They couldn't afford another hit.

...

[Billy's House]

That evening, Kai returned the bat to Kevin.

Kevin sat up in bed, grinning. "So? Did you win?"

Kai scratched his head. This wasn't really about winning or losing.

Still, he nodded. "This bat definitely brings luck."

Kevin laughed. "The bat stands for courage, man. You're the lucky one now, Kai!"

"Haha… I'm starting to like that nickna."

"Dad said he's taking us to the Emirates next week! You excited?"

Kai blinked. " too?"

"He said you need to get used to the stadium's atmosphere—so you're not frozen with nerves when your ti cos."

Kai grinned. "I've got nerves of steel."

"Hey, I believe it. You're brave and lucky!"

Kai smiled.

"When I beco a star, I'll give you a signed shirt. Deal?"

Kevin grinned. "Match-worn final jersey. Preferably from a championship."

Kai held out his hand. "It's a promise."

Kevin slapped it with a grin. "It's a deal!"