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Chapter 22: A Statement Made
🕑 Added 2025-05-14 15:18:05 +0000 UTCArsenal 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 something this... physical.
This was far beyond anything he had expected.
After quickly gathering the details, Wenger immediately 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 mess, the staff couldn't help but feel uneasy.
Especially Pat Rice—he felt like he was seeing Kai for the first time all over again.
This guy, who usually looked so obedient and quiet, had done something 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 punishment—like a kid caught doing something 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 something 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 come 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 embarrassment 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. ”
Some of the coaches winced at what he said.
They all glanced at Pat.
Who glared right back—What are you looking at me for?
Wenger, who looked like he wanted to explode, calmed 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 amusement, 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 some restraint.
Wenger said. “This needs to be contained.”
“Not easy. Park's agent is already threatening to call the police.”
This could become a real mess.
Wenger thought for a moment. “Tell management—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 time.”
Pat grinned.
Cold-blooded.
“And inform everyone in the squad—if anyone dares leak this to the media, 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 come to that.
But he felt clear-headed.
This show of strength had been necessary.
Kai didn’t want to be some nameless benchwarmer 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 become 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 seemed furious, but his actions showed otherwise.
His punishment? 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 someone 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 time 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 statement in the locker room.
And it looked like he’d succeeded.
His punishment? Laps. In other words, nothing.
By the time 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 time…”
“There is no next time!” Pat cut him off.
Kai smirked. “Alright, alright. No next time.”
“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 some 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 nickname.”
“Dad said he’s taking us to the Emirates next week! You excited?”
Kai blinked. “Me too?”
“He said you need to get used to the stadium’s atmosphere—so you’re not frozen with nerves when your time comes.”
Kai grinned. “I’ve got nerves of steel.”
“Hey, I believe it. You’re brave and lucky!”
Kai smiled.
“When I become 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!”
