Kai and Pat's unexpected interruption brought the discussion about bonuses to an abrupt halt.
Martin Hughes wisely decided not to continue the topic. Instead, he arranged for Aubameyang's medical examination and instructed the club's media department to prepare the official announcement.
Before long, Arsenal released the news.
Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang had officially joined Arsenal.
In the new season, he would wear the famous No. 7 shirt and become a member of the Gunners.
With his new jersey folded neatly under his arm, Aubameyang left the training ground alongside his agent and headed back to the villa he had recently rented.
The rain was still falling outside.
As the car moved through the wet London streets, Aubameyang remained unusually quiet.
His mind kept replaying the scene from Martin Hughes' office.
After a while, he shook his head and laughed.
"I always thought Arsenal would be a very strict club."
His agent glanced at him.
"It is."
"Really?"
Aubameyang looked doubtful.
The agent smiled.
"There's a difference between discipline and atmosphere."
"Wenger spent years building this team."
"He demanded professionalism, but he never wanted the dressing room to feel like a military camp."
The agent looked out the window.
"Arsenal have always believed that players perform best when they enjoy being here."
"That's why the atmosphere feels relaxed."
He shrugged.
"Honestly, I think that's a good thing for you."
Aubameyang grinned.
"My mentality is already pretty strong."
His agent laughed.
"Strong, yes."
"Perfect? Not quite."
The car continued through the rain.
A few moments later, the agent's expression became more serious.
"Actually, the most important thing today wasn't Pat or Martin Hughes."
Aubameyang turned his head.
"What was it then?"
"Kai."
The answer came immediately.
Aubameyang frowned.
"What about him?"
His agent leaned back in his seat.
"It's already mid-July."
"Most players only returned recently for preseason."
"But from the conversation we overheard, Kai never really left."
Aubameyang blinked.
"What do you mean?"
His agent looked directly at him.
"He's been training the entire summer."
The words landed heavily.
Aubameyang's eyes widened slightly.
"You're serious?"
"Very."
The agent nodded.
"He just captained Arsenal to the Champions League."
"He lifted the trophy at twenty-three years old."
"He became one of the youngest captains in modern football to conquer Europe."
"And yet he didn't spend the summer celebrating."
"He didn't disappear to some beach."
"He didn't spend a month on holiday."
"He stayed here and kept working."
The agent's voice carried genuine admiration.
"That level of discipline is rare."
Aubameyang fell silent.
He couldn't help imagining himself in the same situation.
Champions League winner.
Club captain.
Twenty-three years old.
The entire football world is praising him.
What would he have done?
The answer was obvious.
He would have celebrated.
Everyone would have celebrated.
A holiday after winning the Champions League felt completely justified.
In fact, it would almost be expected.
Yet Kai had chosen something else.
Training.
Improvement.
Preparation.
No wonder he had become the player he was.
No wonder opponents hated facing him.
No wonder teammates followed him.
The agent suddenly smiled.
"You know, I think Kai is going to help you a lot."
Aubameyang nodded slowly.
For once, he completely agreed.
"I think so too."
. . .
Meanwhile, back at London Colney.
Pat Rice's office was considerably quieter.
The rain tapped softly against the windows.
Kai had already showered and changed into dry clothes.
Now he sat across from Pat, who was reviewing Aubameyang's scouting reports and performance data on his computer.
After several minutes, Pat leaned back in his chair.
"I have to admit it."
"What?"
Kai looked up.
"Pierre is almost the perfect signing."
Pat tapped the screen.
"After Di Maria left, we desperately needed pace on the right side."
"He gives us direct running, goals, and a completely different attacking threat."
"Whether he succeeds or not remains to be seen."
"But on paper, it's a very good fit."
Kai shook his head.
"I don't like calling players replacements."
Pat raised an eyebrow.
"No?"
"No."
Kai folded his arms.
"Di Maria was Di Maria."
"Pierre is Pierre."
"They're different players."
"They have different strengths and different ways of influencing a match."
Kai smiled slightly.
"My job is to help him become part of Arsenal."
"Don't become somebody else."
Pat stared at him for a moment before nodding.
"Fair point."
Then he smirked.
"Still, he'll have to earn his place."
Kai immediately nodded.
"Of course."
Neither of them had any issue with that. Arsenal's culture had always been built on competition. Reputation meant nothing once training started. Performance decided everything.
After a brief silence, Kai suddenly asked,
"Do we even have proper depth on the right side anymore?"
The question made Pat's expression stiffen.
Because it was a very real problem.
Rosicky was gone.
Chamberlain was gone.
Di Maria was gone.
Ramsey was gone.
Walcott was gone.
Looking at the squad list, the right flank suddenly appeared frighteningly thin.
Pat rubbed his forehead.
"Wilshere can play there."
Kai immediately raised an eyebrow.
"If Wilshere moves wide..."
He pointed at himself.
"Does that mean I finally get to play attacking midfield?"
The moment those words left his mouth, Pat nearly exploded.
"No!"
Kai laughed.
Pat pointed at him.
"You are still not ready."
"That's a waste."
"It isn't."
"It is."
"It isn't."
Pat had no intention of encouraging those dreams. Now every Premier League manager has spent months studying Kai. Throwing him into an advanced role permanently would be an enormous gamble.
For both Arsenal and Kai.
Pat shook his head firmly.
"No attacking midfield."
"Not yet."
Kai sighed dramatically.
"My talents are being wasted."
Pat ignored him.
Even so, he knew certain adjustments were unavoidable. Cazorla's absence left a clear gap in Arsenal's creativity, and that responsibility had to be redistributed.
As he had already discussed with Kai some time ago, Kai's role would shift slightly higher up the pitch compared to previous seasons, giving him more freedom and a stronger influence in the final third. He would be given more freedom.
But the foundation remained unchanged.
He was still the team's midfield anchor.
The player around whom everything revolved.
As Pat looked at the tactical board, his headache returned almost instantly.
Pat buried his face in his hands.
Kai looked amused.
"Tough day?"
Pat slowly raised his head.
"Tough day?"
He pointed at the tactical board, then at the stack of reports, before finally at the transfer files.
"I've aged five years in two weeks."
Kai burst out laughing.
Pat Rice sighed deeply.
At that moment, more than anything else, he wanted to drag Wenger out of the hospital, sit him in the office chair, and hand all the problems back to him.
Unfortunately for Pat Rice, that was the one solution he couldn't use.
"You should go take a shower," Kai said, looking at Pat. "Your clothes are soaked. Staying in wet clothes can make you sick."
Pat Rice waved a hand dismissively. "I had hot coffee."
Kai shook his head. "That doesn't help much. Just go shower."
Pat grinned slightly. "You're starting to sound like a nanny. Managing players isn't enough, now you're managing the manager too?"
Kai gave a small smile. "I'm doing it for the team's survival. Wenger is already down. If you go down too, the season collapses before it starts."
Pat Rice rolled his eyes, but the tension in his face eased. He stood up. "Fine, I'm going."
He paused at the door. "You head home too. Rest. Tomorrow is medical day. Don't forget to bring the new signings."
Kai nodded. "I won't."
A moment later, he left the office.
. . .
July 27th was approaching. The Premier League clubs would begin recalling players for preseason preparations, and Arsenal was no exception.
On his way back to the villa, Kai slowed for a moment outside his neighbor's house.
The lights were off.
Empty now.
Ma Fanshu and the production team of Journey To Stardom had already returned to China.
He had exchanged a few messages and calls with her recently. She mentioned joining CCTV's Football World program. It was a step forward in her career.
Kai had simply congratulated her, nothing more, nothing heavy.
He continued walking and entered his house. Not long after, there was a knock at the door. He opened it and saw Wilshere standing outside.
The midfielder was holding a large wrapped parcel in foil.
"Look at this," Wilshere said, lifting it slightly. "I brought you something. Iberian ham."
Kai accepted it with a nod and a quiet smile. "Thanks."
Wilshere stepped inside without waiting.
Their relationship had grown noticeably stronger over the break.
Wilshere had also taken his wife, Lauren, and the children to Spain for a short holiday. Things at home had started to settle. The talk of divorce had cooled. They were still living separately, but the situation no longer felt broken.
That change showed in Wilshere as well. He looked lighter. Sharper. More focused.
There was another reason for that energy.
With Cazorla injured, Wilshere was expected to start more matches next season. That possibility had clearly lit a fire in him.
"I've been told I'm a club hero," Wilshere said with a grin. "Archie said my late goal helped Arsenal make history."
Kai smiled and nodded. "He's not wrong."
Nothing meant more than that kind of validation.
While Wilshere's goal in the Champions League final had put the game to bed, it had also shifted how his family saw him, especially his children.
At that moment, Wilshere pulled out his phone and made a call.
"Hey, Lauren. I'm with Kai."
"Say hello to Kai for me."
Because the phone was on speaker, Kai could clearly hear Lauren's voice from the other end.
Kai smiled slightly. "Lauren, good to hear you two are getting along so well."
Lauren laughed immediately. "Getting along? He's still on probation."
Wilshere covered his face with one hand. "I'm standing right here, you know."
Kai chuckled. "That sounds about right."
There was a brief pause, then Wilshere leaned closer to the phone.
"When are you planning to move in properly?" he asked.
Lauren replied without hesitation, "When you win another Champions League, maybe."
That line triggered laughter from both Kai and Wilshere.
Wilshere shook his head, still smiling. "I was planning to have a drink with Kai tonight. Maybe I'll even stay here."
Lauren didn't respond immediately.
Before she could, Kai spoke first.
"Don't worry, Lauren. He'll be back on time. No drinking. And if he isn't home when he should be, you can take him straight to court."
Lauren burst out laughing. "Alright, Kai. I trust you."
Wilshere stared at the phone in disbelief. "Whose side are you on?"
Lauren's laughter continued as she ended the call.
The line went dead, leaving Wilshere frozen for a second.
Kai glanced at him, then shook his head lightly.
"You're not very convincing."
Wilshere sighed. "I know."
. . .
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