Early morning at the Arsenal Training Base.
Kai had just finished warming up and was heading toward the equipnt room.
But as he reached the door, he noticed sothing unusual—it was locked.
"Huh?" Kai muttered, trying the handle again.
Still locked.
That was strange. The equipnt room was usually accessible 24/7. He jogged over to the gym—sa result. Door locked tight.
"What on earth is going on?"
With no other choice, Kai waited until the staff arrived. Once the facility officially opened, he went to find Paul Johnson, the facility manager.
"The key? Sorry, can't give it to you," Paul said firmly.
Kai blinked. "Why not?"
Paul gave a knowing smile. "Arsène's orders. Everyone else can use the equipnt, but not you. Especially now, with your dical check-up coming up."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "But I just had one last week."
"And you'll have another this week—and the next. From now on, it's weekly."
"That's a bit much, don't you think?"
Paul crossed his arms. "Wenger doesn't want to take any chances. We're short enough on players as it is. If you get injured again before Cazorla and the others return, how are we supposed to compete?"
Kai scoffed. "Feels like you're guarding against thieves."
Paul chuckled. "If I didn't lock it, would you really stay out?"
"Of course I would," Kai said, deadpan.
"Rubbish! You snuck in for a session two nights ago. You think we don't know?"
Kai's eyes widened. "You guys—"
"Surveillance, mate. We reviewed the footage."
Kai let out a defeated laugh. "You're monitoring ?"
"If we didn't, how else would we catch you sneaking in for extra reps? We gave you freedom, and you used it to break protocol."
Kai sighed. "So what now? No training at all?"
Paul was adamant. "No additional workouts. Finish your scheduled training and go ho. Rest. No sneaky gym ti, not even at ho. Don't think we won't find out."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "Billy's working for you too, isn't he?"
Paul grinned. "Always has been."
Kai gave up. "Fine. But at least give a ball. I need to get so touches in."
Paul reached under his desk and handed him a ball. "Three hours in the morning. Two in the afternoon. And if it's not returned on ti, I'm coming for you."
Kai shook his head. "This feels like anti-theft security."
As Kai walked off, Paul chuckled to himself.
The whole thing amused him. It was probably the first ti Wenger had ever ordered a player not to train.
Most players needed pushing. Not Kai. He needed holding back.
But Paul respected that.
Nothing about Kai's breakout season was luck. It was a product of relentless effort, months and years of discipline. Talent counted, but work ethic defined the ceiling.
anwhile, from the office window above, Arsène Wenger watched Kai from afar, nodding slightly.
He turned and joined team manager Martin Hughes on the sofa. In Wenger's hand was a contract.
"We're offering him a new deal," Wenger said calmly.
Martin raised an eyebrow. "Another one? That'd be the third revision this season."
Wenger nodded. "And each one deserved. There are two options. First—a five-year deal at ninety grand a week. Second—ten years. Three hundred grand weekly."
Martin nearly dropped his pen. "Three hundred? That's top-tier money. For anyone."
Wenger didn't flinch. He placed the contract on the table.
"He will earn every pound."
Wenger continued, "There's more. On portrait rights—we're not asking for exclusivity. But the club will help him manage that side of things. We'll just take a 10% cut of whatever he earns from it."
Martin let out a low whistle. "Ten percent? That's practically charity. My son wouldn't get a deal that sweet."
Wenger smiled faintly. "There's also a loyalty bonus. If he extends again after five years, we'll reward him generously."
"Not pulling any punches, are we?" Martin said, scanning through the pages. "You've got clauses stacked like a chessboard. What's this one—no external offers below €50 million are even brought to him?"
Wenger nodded. "Exactly. If a bid doesn't et that threshold, we reject it outright. No distractions, no drama."
Martin raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like that odd Suarez clause Liverpool had."
"Similar, but tighter," Wenger said. "It's designed to protect us—but also to send a ssage. He's part of our long-term vision."
When Kai received the two contract offers, he read through them carefully. His eyes moved from line to line, then paused.
Martin handed them over. "Five years, £90k per week. Or ten years, £300k per week."
Kai studied them both in silence, then reached for the five-year deal.
"This one."
Martin wasn't surprised. "Solid choice. The professor also wants to add sothing—only with your approval."
"Go on," Kai said.
"If, during Arsène's tenure, the club fails to qualify for the Champions League, you won't be allowed to trigger your release clause."
Kai tilted his head. "What exactly defines 'not qualifying'?"
Martin replied, "No Champions League football. Simple as that."
Kai didn't hesitate. "Fine by ."
Martin looked up, almost in disbelief. "You're agreeing to that? Just like that?"
Kai nodded. "Yeah. Let's get it signed. I've got training in twenty minutes."
Martin double-checked the docunts, half-expecting to find a misprint. Everything was in order.
Still, he had to ask, "Why? Most players wouldn't touch a clause like that."
Kai capped the pen and smiled. "Because I don't like disloyalty."
Martin froze, the words jogging a mory—Kai's quiet answer on a rainy night the year before.
He took a breath and said softly, "Thank you."
Kai grinned. "No need."
He stood and walked out, heading for the pitch with the sa casual confidence he carried into every match.
...
On February 9th, Arsenal visited Sunderland and ground out another hard-fought win.
The match was anything but pretty. With Arsenal's midfield still depleted, the team leaned heavily on Kai's ball recovery and distribution.
Offensively, they lacked fluidity. But they scraped out the result.
After 26 rounds, Arsenal had racked up 53 points, on par with Manchester City. They led Arsenal with goal difference.
The turnaround thrilled the fans. What once looked like a fading season was now alive with possibility. The press had written them off, pundits declared Arsenal "OUT!"
But sohow, with a decimated midfield and mounting pressure, they clawed their way back.
Four consecutive league wins later—against Chelsea, Liverpool, Stoke City, and Sunderland—Arsenal had beco the Premier League's dark horse.
Even the London Sports Daily took notice, publishing a full-spread map of the UK with a cannon in North London. The headline read:
Who Else?
Though their wins were narrow, they were steady, and the ssage was clear—Wenger's Arsenal weren't done yet.
The Daily Mail echoed the sentint:
"With Wenger's Arsenal finding their late last season form this season, everyone else better watch out. That fearso Arsenal is stirring again."
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