From Arsenal, Forge the Path to Football God

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Finally, Level Up!

Maël collapsed onto the ground, lying on the wet grass, panting heavily, his face filled with satisfaction and relief.

He was almost at his limit.

Fortunately, he managed to hold on to the last bit of energy and gained a level-up today.

Bitterness turned to sweetness!

"Under the condition of 'Fully Prepared and Exerting Maximum Effort,' I can occasionally deliver a shot of excellent quality."

This was the evaluation of Maël's current shooting level on the Skill Proficiency Panel, a concept that was somewhat abstract.

However, his personal experience was very clear.

This level-up brought him not only strength but also many techniques for generating power, aiming, and muscle memory honed through repeated practice! With these, the probability of delivering a shot with excellent speed and angle should be around 30-40%.

"However, there's a prerequisite: being Fully Prepared and Exerting Maximum Effort."

In the high-level physical confrontation of modern football, defensive players generally don't give attacking players much space to adjust and aim.

For Maël to get a 'Fully Prepared and Ready to Shoot' opportunity in a match was as difficult as climbing to the heavens.

Getting one chance every 90 minutes would be considered lucky.

"But, this is only Level 2 Long Shot. There are still three more levels to go."

Maël didn't belittle himself. Everything was just beginning, and he still had a lot of room for growth.

At the very least, by the standards of the youth team, he had transformed from an average player into a heavy artilleryman capable of delivering powerful shots, giving him a certain characteristic.

This type of player is always in demand on any team.

Because they have the ability to suddenly change the course of a game with their individual strength!

As for how to get the coaching staff to notice this strength?

Maël wasn't worried. Opportunities to be Fully Prepared and Ready to Shoot were rare in matches but not in training.

The twice-weekly shooting practice was his best chance to showcase his skills!

Level 2 Long Shot already gave him a certain level of competitiveness. What about Level 3?

Would it reduce the preparation time, giving him more opportunities to generate power on the field?

"Temporarily, I won't try to explore other skills. I'll focus on long shots."

Maël knew that quantity without quality was no good. If he could raise his long shots to Level 3 before the trial period ended, staying at the Arsenal Youth Academy shouldn't be a problem.

After resting for a while, he stood up, feeling the urge to kick the ball. He planned to take a couple of shots before heading back to the dorm to shower.

It was already four in the afternoon, and many Arsenal U17 players had also come to the field for extra practice. Several of them were eyeing Maël.

"Maël, why did you change your shoes?"

A tall, blonde youth approached Maël with a few others, a mocking smile on his face. "I heard someone say that you do part-time work after training?"

Maël glanced at him but didn't respond.

This was Ian, the English center back of Arsenal U17, whose skills were considered top-notch within the team.

However, Ian, who was born and raised in London, looked down on foreign players within the team.

He believed that only someone like him deserved British youth training resources, while other foreign players were just thieves coming to snatch job opportunities.

"Is this what you earned from your part-time job?"

Seeing that Maël ignored him, Ian felt a surge of anger and his face turned cold. "It doesn't seem to be the latest model. How about you wash my shoes for two months, and I'll give you a pair of the latest football boots?"

"Hahaha," laughter erupted from behind him, most people grinning, while a few looked serious, seemingly disapproving of this behavior.

"Oh."

Ian put on a show, pretending to remember something. "You're not a formal Arsenal player yet. Your contract with the team is only six months.

"Calculating the days, it's almost over. So, no need to wash them. I'm afraid you'll be gone before two months are up, and you won't get the reward if you don't complete the work."

More laughter followed, and Ian joined in, shaking his head and continuing to stir the pot. "Unfortunately, a homeless kid like you, once you leave, will never come back here."

With that, he and his group strolled past Maël, their steps light and carefree.

"Bang!!"

But at that moment, a dull thud echoed.

Maël suddenly drew back and shot a powerful kick toward the goal, the ball's trajectory intersecting with Ian's path.

Hitting someone at close range wasn't difficult; with his current skill level, he could easily do it.

"Puff!" Ian instinctively turned around at the sound, only to have the ball hit his stomach. The immense impact caused his stomach to cave in, and he felt a churning sensation.

Then, an indescribable pain shot through his stomach, and he clutched his abdomen, kneeling down, filled with rage but only able to groan.

"What are you doing?!"

A player who was close to Ian supported him, pointing at Maël and demanding, "This French guy must have done it on purpose!"

Two others quickly approached Maël with menacing looks, ready to start a fight at any moment.

The situation became chaotic, and some people from other parts of the field came over to watch, some sighing, others secretly enjoying the spectacle.

"Shooting, are football players afraid of being hit by a ball?"

Maël shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. "That's a coward."

With that, he turned and walked off the field. The test was successful, and it was time to head back to the dorm to rest.

The crowd hesitated for a moment but didn't follow him.

Picking a fight within the club was a foolish move. If the coach found out, there was a risk of suspension, training bans, or even expulsion from the team.

Maël's kick was clearly intentional, but he had controlled the degree just right, leaving no grounds for punishment.

"Damn!"

After a moment, a couple of English players, still seething from the humiliation, mimicked Ian's actions. They took out a ball and aimed it at Maël, kicking it forcefully.

However, their aim was far off, not even hitting within a meter of Maël.

They kicked in unison and then awkwardly blushed, finally pointing at Maël's back and shouting, "Wait for us!"

The next morning at nine, at the Training Ground Gym.

All members of the Arsenal U17 team were doing side planks on the ground, training their core strength.

"In the British football system, represented by the Premier League, physical confrontation is always the main theme on the field."

Head Coach Hans walked around, scratching his bald head, his tone serious. "Therefore, three strength training sessions per week are essential, and no one is allowed to slack off.

"I don't want the Arsenal youth academy to produce only technically skilled players who are just showpieces. My players must have strong physical confrontation abilities.

"Many of you have already reached the level of the English Football League (EFL) League One or even the EFL Championship in terms of technical and tactical skills. No team is willing to loan you because they fear you won't keep up with the physical confrontation pace!"

Hearing the head coach's assessment of their abilities, many players' eyes lit up with excitement, and they gritted their teeth to keep going.

The Championship and League One, in their eyes, were not just lower leagues that no one wanted to go to.

They were the best places to hone their skills and gain recognition!

And they were tangible goals.

"Damn French guy, I'll skin you alive one day."

Unlike the others who dreamed of professional teams, Ian was still seething from yesterday's humiliation, muttering to himself and glaring at Maël.

Maël noticed this but didn't pay much attention to him.

This guy, judging by his name, was clearly someone who never made it big, just a half-baked player.

Maël was different; he had a bright future and needed to focus on improving his football skills.

This person was not a real opponent; he would soon be left far behind.

At this moment, a few lines of text suddenly appeared in Maël's vision, catching his attention.

[Skill: Strength Level 1]

[Proficiency: 129/300]

[Effect: You have initially experienced the necessity of enhancing physical strength and physical confrontation. However, you are still too thin, and you yearn for the moment of leveling up.]

A new skill?

Maël's eyes flickered. Was Strength Level 1 due to the ongoing strength training?

It seemed his guess was correct. As long as he engaged in a certain amount of specialized training, he could gain the corresponding specialized skill.

However, why was the proficiency of Strength Level 1 directly equal to that of Long Shot Level 2?

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