FORESIGHT Chapter 302 302: Under the Boos

The first day of filming wrapped up quickly. On the second day, after coordinating with Arsenal Football Club, the production team received special permission to observe a training session.

That was when they truly witnessed what Kai ant by a high-intensity two-hour workout.

Before the internal training match had even begun, the squad had already completed thirty-two shuttle runs. It was the kind of load that left even seasoned professionals breathing heavily.

And yet, the session wasn't over.

Straight after that, Arsenal moved into a full training match.

At that mont, the production team finally understood what elite-level football really demanded.

The overall session didn't last long after that. Arsenal soon shifted into tactical drills—an area strictly off-limits to caras.

They were preparing for the next league fixture.

In the second round, Arsenal would travel to face Everton.

The Toffees had been impressive over the past few seasons, known for their tough, traditional English style and their ability to produce fiercely contested matches.

Their biggest issue, however, was consistency. Against top sides, they often struggled to sustain their level.

Even so, Arsenal couldn't afford to take them lightly.

Everton had invested heavily ahead of their Champions League campaign. Their headline signing was Rolu Lukaku, brought in for a fee of €36.37 million.

The powerful striker—nicknad Big Rom, with his short afro—had once again been discarded after a single season at Chelsea.

This ti, Lukaku had clearly lost patience. He chose Everton to restart his career and prove his worth.

His performances in pre-season and training had been encouraging. Though he hadn't found the net yet, he showed strong presence and effectiveness as a central striker.

This match against Arsenal would be a genuine test.

Could Lukaku recapture the form he showed during the 2012–2013 season with West Bromwich Albion—especially against a reinforced Arsenal side led by Kai?

Could he deliver on such a big stage?

And for Arsenal, the question was just as clear: could they take all three points at Goodison Park and maintain the montum from last season?

All the answers would arrive in Round Two of the Premier League.

...

On August 24th, Arsenal arrived at Goodison Park.

Everton, having been held to a draw in the opening round, were desperate for a win. Facing the reigning league champions so early in the season, however, was hardly ideal.

Still, Everton manager Roberto Martínez struck a confident tone before kickoff, insisting that while Arsenal were strong, Everton feared no challenge and would make them suffer at Goodison.

Arsène Wenger responded coolly, brushing off the comnts and stating that Arsenal was getting the three points.

The match hadn't even kicked off, yet the tension was already evident.

anwhile, the CCTV production team also made the trip to Liverpool, renting a car to capture footage of the match.

"Wow… there are so many people!"

As the van door slid open, a young woman stepped out in an Arsenal shirt, long black hair falling over her shoulders. Her voice carried both excitent and curiosity.

It was Ma Fanshu—Xiao Ma—whom Kai had t earlier.

She had joined CCTV only the year before, but through a series of assessnts had earned her place on the Journey of a Superstar docuntary team.

Though relatively new to football, she was diligent. She studied relentlessly, already familiar with basic tactics and club histories, though player recognition still required ti and match experience.

The crew gathered and moved toward the stadium entrance together.

Ma Fanshu held a match briefing sheet, packed with statistics, player profiles, and historical data.

She clearly supported Arsenal—Kai had influenced that—but she was also visibly nervous.

"Height: 190 centiters. Weight: over 200 pounds…" she muttered, staring at Lukaku's profile.

"Isn't that basically a tank?"

She knew Kai was strong, but Lukaku looked like an entirely different class of physical specin.

The director beside her laughed.

"Relax. Kai will handle him."

"But Kai's under ninety kilos," Ma Fanshu replied, still uneasy.

"How is that supposed to work?"

The director smiled.

"Football isn't decided by numbers alone. And when it cos to strength—Kai won't lose."

"Why?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

One player weighed far less.

The other was close to a hundred kilos.

On paper, the answer seed obvious.

Lukaku even carried the nickna The Tank. How could he possibly be at a disadvantage?

The director didn't explain further. He knew Ma Fanshu was hardworking, but she still approached football like an academic—trusting data too much.

And in football, data could be deceptive.

"You'll see soon enough," he said simply, leading the group inside.

Goodison Park—the first Premier League stadium with a double-tiered stand—rose before them, capable of holding nearly seventy thousand fans.

And tonight, it was ready for a battle.

The atmosphere inside the stadium quickly reached a boiling point.

The mont they stepped through the gates, a wave of noise and heat washed over everyone. It felt as if the air itself was vibrating.

Ma Fanshu was imdiately swept up in it. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes moving constantly as she took in everything around her—the stands, the banners, the sea of blue shirts.

After about ten minutes, both teams erged from the tunnel to the Premier League anthem.

"They're coming out!" Ma Fanshu exclaid, unable to hide her excitent. She instinctively waved and shouted,

"Go, Kai!"

Her voice disappeared instantly.

A wall of boos crashed down from every direction.

Boooooooooo——!

Everton supporters poured relentless pressure onto the Arsenal players. When Kai's face appeared on the big screen, the volu rose even higher, sharp and unforgiving.

Ma Fanshu flinched slightly.

"That's a bit much," she said, frowning.

The director remained calm.

"This is nothing. If you ever go to Dortmund or Istanbul, you'll understand what a real hostile atmosphere looks like."

Then he added casually,

"They're booing Kai because they're worried about him."

Ma Fanshu blinked.

"Really?"

Her eyes drifted back to the pitch.

Kai stood there, expression composed, almost detached from the noise. The captain's armband was wrapped firmly around his arm. From the away section, Arsenal fans were doing everything they could to drown out the boos with chants of their own.

She understood what that armband ant.

It was authority, trust, and presence.

Both teams lined up before shaking hands.

Kai and Rolu Lukaku shared a short, friendly embrace. They weren't close friends, but there was mutual respect. Once the whistle blew, that would disappear.

The players retreated to their halves.

Monts later, Kai and Everton's captain, Jagielka, completed the coin toss and exchanged a brief handshake.

Starting lineups:

Arsenal (4-2-3-1):

Goalkeeper: Navas

Defenders: Sagna, rtesacker, Koscielny, Gibbs

Def. Midfielders: Flamini, Kai (C)

Midfielders: Di Maria, Cazorla, Sanchez

Forward: Suarez

Everton (4-2-3-1):

Goalkeeper: Howard

Defenders: Coleman, Jagielka, Distin, Baines

Def. Midfielders: Barry, McCarthy

Midfielders: Mirallas, Naismith, Pienaar

Forward: Rolu Lukaku

Kai's eyes settled on Lukaku.

He had to admit it—Lukaku looked even more powerful than he had two years earlier. Broader, heavier, more imposing. Standing still, he already felt like a problem.

Intimidating was the right word.

But Kai also knew sothing most people overlooked.

Lukaku didn't enjoy physical battles.

For soone built like a tank, he strangely avoided using his greatest weapon. Instead of backing into defenders, he preferred drifting wide, carrying the ball, relying on speed and technique rather than brute force.

Though that will change later in his life.

But for now, that habit had drawn criticism everywhere he went.

Chelsea had hoped he'd grown out of it. After one season, Mourinho clearly decided otherwise—no loan, no patience, just a sale.

From Kai's perspective, that trait was dangerous in a different way.

The key wasn't strength.

It was montum.

If Lukaku was allowed to run into space, even Kai couldn't be certain of stopping him cleanly. Stick too close, and one shoulder charge could send you flying.

So the rule was simple.

Don't let him turn.

Don't let him run.

Everything else could be managed.

. . .

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