From Arsenal, Forge the Path to Football God

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In the following days, Maël's life gradually became more regular and stable.

He spent most of his time in a few fixed areas, either Training or Eating. In the evenings, he would return to the Dormitory, wash up, and fall into a deep sleep.

The intense Training was starting to take a toll on his body.

He had multiple muscle strains, and each Training session required a long warm-up before he could start any exercises.

"At least it's tiring but enjoyable."

He himself didn't have any negative feelings. Compared to others, his opportunities were already much better.

Not putting in his best effort would be a waste of these opportunities. On June 16th, Thursday, the U17 Team's Morning Training focused on finishing skills.

It could also be called specialized shooting Training.

The opportunity to show his skills had finally arrived. Maël stood in the lineup, feeling refreshed and ready, waiting for the Training to start.

"Goalkeepers, warm up separately. Everyone else, follow Captain Gilbert."

At Head Coach Hans' command, the players followed the team's 10th Captain, Gilbert, to start a slow jog for warm-up. Many players began to whisper among themselves.

"I heard someone has been spending all their time at the Training ground and the gym?"

Someone said teasingly, seemingly setting the stage for someone else.

As soon as he spoke, Ian chimed in with a sneer, "Yeah, very diligent. You never see him in the Dormitory, and he's given up all his entertainment."

"Effort..."

Someone else commented sarcastically, "I hope he can make it to the Premier League through his effort."

"What a joke."

Ian laughed as he ran, "If effort alone could get you into the Premier League, then talent wouldn't be needed. I think he's about to be let go, he's getting desperate."

"Good riddance."

Another player laughed and glanced at Maël, shaking his head, "I heard he eats all his meals at the club and doesn't spend a penny on himself. Isn't he just a leech?"

Their voices were loud enough for almost everyone warming up to hear.

"Focus on your warm-up!"

Captain Gilbert intervened, clearly unable to tolerate the gossip.

The few of them reluctantly shut up, but they still wore smirks, which was quite bizarre.

Maël ignored these 'wise guys.' Arguing with such people would be degrading and unnecessary.

Let them remain immersed in their own world, playing with their worthless sense of superiority.

He had to move forward, and soon they wouldn't be on the same level.

Laughing now didn't mean much; it was about who could keep laughing.

The warm-up Training ended quickly, and the shooting Training began.

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

The first exercise was heading from high crosses. Players on both flanks continuously sent crosses for the central players to head towards the goal.

"Good pass! I'll take it!"

"Ah, mine!"

"No worries, keep it up!"

Encouragement and disappointment echoed together, and everyone was enthusiastic and excited.

Maël's performance in this exercise was not outstanding; heading had never been his strong point.

If needed in the future, he could work on improving his heading skills.

For now, he would focus on strength and long-range shooting.

After the heading exercise, they moved on to low crosses, dynamic shooting in the penalty area, and high-speed one-on-one drills.

Maël's performance remained average, not particularly outstanding.

"Next, Long-Distance Shooting!"

It wasn't until Hans announced the long-range shooting exercise that Maël finally lifted his head, his eyes filled with confidence.

Captain Gilbert was the first to stand at the penalty arc, waiting for Hans to pass him the ball. He controlled the ball and took a shot.

"Thud!"

Hans sent a ground ball, and Gilbert quickly followed up, controlled the ball, and took a curling shot.

The ball was struck with precision, not overly powerful but with a tricky angle.

The team's number one goalkeeper, Hopkins, was immediately on high alert, diving to save the ball, but he was just a step too late, and the ball slipped past his fingertips.

"Swish!" The ball hit the net with a crisp sound, and Gilbert leaped high, celebrating with a rising dragon punch.

"Beautiful!"

Hans gave an approving look, and many players clapped and laughed.

The Training atmosphere was generally good, with only a few troublemakers disrupting the harmony.

"Thud! Thud! Thud...!"

One by one, players took their positions and took their shots. The ratio of goals to misses was about one to one.

Hans' reminders echoed throughout the Training ground: "Your supporting foot is too far away. Do you usually shoot like that?

"Defender's footwork! My grandmother could shoot more accurately than you!

"Not bad, be more confident! Keep your foot taut, don't let it relax! You're all 17 years old; I don't want to have to remind you of the details every day."

As he spoke, he rolled another ball towards the penalty arc.

A figure in the 31 jersey suddenly dashed out, took a quick look at the goal, planted his supporting foot, and rapidly folded his right leg, striking the ball with a powerful shot.

"Thud!!"

A dull thud followed, and the grass under his feet flew up. The ball shot towards the goal, leaving a trail that was hard to follow with the naked eye.

Hopkins, who had just lowered his center of gravity, turned back in shock, unable to determine the direction of the ball.

Only his instinct made him turn his head to the right.

"Clang!!" He saw the ball hit the inside of the crossbar, causing the entire goal frame to vibrate violently, before changing direction and sliding into the net.

The scene fell into a dead silence, as if everyone was stunned by the shot and couldn't speak.

It wasn't that no one had used an instep shot or that no one had scored with such a technique.

The main issue was the incredible speed of the ball, which seemed to exceed 100 yards.

And the angle, nearly 10 degrees?

"Oh!"

Hopkins was the first to open his mouth, turning to look at the shooter, "Maël, how...?"

Someone else finished the sentence for him, "That's just too much!"

"Even if the first-team goalkeeper, Fabianski, had been there, he might not have been able to save it."

Captain Gilbert furrowed his brow, looking puzzled, then shook his head vigorously, "No, not might, but definitely!"

Ian and his companions exchanged blank looks but quickly found a new excuse, "He must have been lucky."

"Definitely lucky. I can sometimes hit a 10-degree angle, and I'm a defender."

"He doesn't have that level; otherwise, he would have been given a contract extension."

"One more!" Head Coach Hans didn't give them a chance to argue. He quickly rolled another ground ball towards Maël's position.

A shot that powerful couldn't have been a fluke; he wanted to see it again.

Maël watched the ball, lowered his center of gravity, and used the outside of his foot to control the ball to the right. He then followed up, planting his left foot next to the ball.

"Thud!!"

Just like countless nights of practice, he folded his right leg and snapped it forward, striking the ball with a powerful shot towards the goal.