The next day, the entire Arsenal squad reported back to the training ground.
After the new arrivals were introduced and Pat Rice delivered a brief speech outlining the goals for the season, the players began their physical assessments one by one.
The whole morning was devoted to testing.
The results, however, left the coaching staff deeply concerned.
Out of the entire first-team squad, only three players, including Kai, passed every fitness benchmark without issue.
Everyone else had at least one area that fell below the required standard. The reports painted a clear picture of how some players had spent their summer break.
Pat Rice's expression darkened as he reviewed the results. He was already thinking about the brutal conditioning sessions waiting for those who had clearly enjoyed their holidays a little too much.
What surprised everyone was seeing Jack Wilshere among the players who passed. In previous years, Wilshere almost treated failing his pre-season fitness test as a matter of course.
His summers were usually filled with nights out, beer, and enough unhealthy food to make any fitness coach despair. This time, however, his report was excellent.
His body fat percentage was comfortably within the required range, and his muscle mass had increased noticeably. For the coaching staff, it was an unexpected but welcome development.
It seemed that after turning a new page in his life, Wilshere had finally embraced discipline.
Once the examinations were completed, Pat gathered the squad and delivered a lengthy dressing-down that immediately wiped away any traces of post-Champions League arrogance.
The players listened in silence.
Among Arsenal's coaching staff, Wenger commanded the most authority.
Pat Rice, however, was the one players feared the most.
Partly because of his decades of experience at the club.
Partly because even Arsenal's captain had once been his student. Although Kai will argue he is still one.
Arguing with Pat was never considered a good idea.
Training officially began that afternoon.
Standing at the front of the group, Kai clapped his hands loudly.
"Alright, lads. Five-kilometre warm-up run. Let's move!"
A collective groan echoed across the training pitch.
Kai smirked.
"Come on, show some energy. You should've thought about this before spending your holidays eating and drinking everything in sight."
The squad immediately protested.
"Hey!"
"That's unfair!"
"We weren't that bad!"
Kai ignored them.
"You won the Champions League and suddenly think you've made it? Who gave you that idea? You've got one week to get yourselves back into proper condition."
He pointed at the group.
"One week. Holiday mode off. Match mode on."
Then his smile widened.
"And if anyone can't manage that, I'll personally train with you every day. Just me and you at night, under the spotlights in the London cold air."
The reaction was immediate.
Several players looked genuinely horrified.
Being trained by Kai?
That sounded less like extra practice and more like a prison sentence. Everyone knew he was obsessed with training. Once Kai focused on someone, there was no escape.
The squad instantly became serious. No one wanted to become his personal project.
"Five kilometres. Go!"
Kai set off first. The others followed behind. Unfortunately for them, Kai's idea of a comfortable pace was anything but comfortable.
While he had spent most of his summer training, many of his teammates had spent theirs recovering with beer, barbecues, and long holidays. The difference showed immediately.
By the time the run ended, most of the squad were bent over, gasping for breath.
Kai glanced around and shook his head in disappointment.
"Five-minute break."
Cheers erupted.
Their celebration lasted exactly one second.
"Then we're doing 100-metre shuttle sprints. Five players per group."
The cheers disappeared.
Several players collapsed onto the grass.
Kai folded his arms and snorted.
Five minutes later, his voice rang across the pitch.
"Up! Move! First group, let's go!"
Players slowly dragged themselves off the ground.
Kai pointed toward the starting line.
"Wilshere, Suárez, Sánchez, Kanté, Flamini. You're first."
The five men stepped forward.
Kai raised his hand.
"Ready."
They leaned forward.
"Go!"
The group exploded into motion.
By the finish line, Mathieu Flamini crossed last.
Without needing instructions, he jogged toward the goal and took up the punishment position.
Kai couldn't resist.
"Every one of you has fitness issues, and you're supposed to survive a full season? Look at Jack. His condition is excellent. Maybe try following his example."
Several players immediately turned to stare at Wilshere. Caught completely off guard, Wilshere waved his hand back awkwardly.
"Alright, alright. Stop looking at me."
His face had already turned red.
Meanwhile, Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang finished his sprint and bent over, breathing heavily. At least he had finished first. He still had no idea what happened to the player who came last, but judging from everyone's expressions, it couldn't be pleasant.
Soon enough, he found out. After several rounds, five unlucky players stood along the goal line.
Backs straight.
Hands at the side of the head.
Backsides sticking out.
The sight was ridiculous.
Kai carefully placed a ball on the penalty spot and looked up.
"Who's taking the first shot?"
"I am!"
Sánchez immediately stepped forward.
Pointing dramatically toward the goal line, he shouted,
"Flamini! Present that magnificent bum!"
The squad burst out laughing.
Flamini responded by wiggling his hips provocatively.
The laughter became even louder.
Sánchez's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, you're asking for it."
He took several steps back, charged forward, and unleashed a thunderous strike.
Bang!
Aaagh!
A scream immediately echoed across the training ground.
Everyone froze.
Mustafi was clutching his backside as he spun around furiously.
"Scheiße!" he shouted. "Why me?!"
Sánchez blinked.
"I wasn't even the target!"
Mustafi pointed at him angrily.
The squad erupted into laughter.
Even Aubameyang couldn't hold it in. When his turn came, the new signing decided to show some mercy. He carefully adjusted his angle and gently curled the ball toward Flamini.
Thud!
The ball landed perfectly on Flamini's backside.
"That's my guy!"
Sánchez immediately ran over and wrapped an arm around Aubameyang's shoulders.
Then he shook his head dramatically.
"Far too soft. You should've hit it harder."
Flamini rolled his eyes.
"What exactly is your problem with me?"
Sánchez shrugged.
"You are just an easy target."
Kai immediately joined in.
"No, no. What he means is he's jealous. Girls dig a guy with a fine ass."
The entire squad burst out laughing.
Flamini playfully raised an eyebrow.
"Why didn't you say that earlier?"
With an exaggerated stance, he stuck his hips out even further.
"Go ahead. Appreciate greatness."
The players nearly collapsed from laughter.
Even some of the coaching staff were struggling to keep straight faces.
After the punishment round ended, the squad moved straight into the next set of sprints.
The joking disappeared almost immediately. Every Arsenal player pushed themselves hard. Watching from the touchline, the coaches exchanged relieved looks.
Goalkeeping coach Jens Lehmann smiled.
"After Arsène got sick, I was worried the squad might lose its edge. Looking at them now, I think they'll be fine."
Fitness coach Tony Colbert chuckled.
"I actually feel threatened."
The others looked at him.
Colbert pointed toward the pitch.
"Kai's doing half my job for me. At this rate, I might be unemployed."
Pat Rice folded his arms.
"You won't be unemployed."
Colbert sighed in relief.
Pat continued.
"You'll be busy creating a new conditioning programme. This one isn't difficult enough."
Colbert stared at him.
"You really are a monster."
Several members of the coaching staff nodded immediately.
Arsenal's training sessions were already among the toughest in England.
Yet Pat still wasn't satisfied.
It almost seemed as if he wanted to turn Arsenal into a long-distance running club.
Pat remained unmoved.
"Our style demands constant movement, pressing, and recovery runs. Stamina isn't optional. Every one of them needs to be capable of running all day."
He stepped forward and shouted toward the players.
"Ten minutes' rest! Then five more sets!"
The entire squad looked as if they had just received terrible news.
"Five more?!"
"Coach, that's attempted murder!"
"We've already suffered enough!"
Kai was breathing a bit heavy himself. Even he was feeling the effects after leading every session. After taking several deep breaths, he clapped loudly.
"Come on."
Nobody moved.
Kai smiled.
"Rest time's over. Sixth set, get ready."
Suárez looked at him as if betrayed.
Several teammates wore equally pitiful expressions.
Kai's smile widened.
"Or we can skip the running."
Hope immediately appeared on several faces.
Then Kai pointed toward the goal.
"Everyone lines up on the goal line and assumes the punishment position."
The hope vanished instantly.
Players scrambled to their feet.
"Get up!"
"The captain's a psycho!"
"I'm going to throw up!"
Kai pointed at the speaker.
"You can throw up after the sprint."
The squad groaned but reluctantly moved back to the starting line. Watching them complain while still obeying made Kai smile slightly, only for a moment.
His expression quickly returned to normal.
"Ready!"
The players lowered themselves into position.
"Go!"
The group exploded forward once more. At this stage, technique had completely disappeared. Several players looked like they were fighting for survival rather than running.
Aubameyang bent over with his hands on his knees after finishing another run. He was breathing harder than he had in most matches. Back at Dortmund, Klopp's conditioning sessions had already felt extreme.
Yet Arsenal somehow seemed even worse. Before joining the club, he had assumed Arsenal's players were exceptionally fit. Now he was beginning to suspect they were all slightly insane.
Every one of them looked completely exhausted.
Every one of them looked ready to collapse.
Yet somehow they kept standing up and running again.
Seeing everyone else continue, Aubameyang gritted his teeth and returned to the starting line.
Kai noticed and raised an eyebrow.
Not bad.
Many new signings struggled to survive their first Arsenal training session.
Some of the players who had arrived this summer had already made multiple trips to the side of the pitch, where they were busy introducing their breakfasts to the isolation barriers.
Aubameyang, however, was still standing. That alone earned a bit of respect from Kai.
. . .
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