Although in the end, the key to dribbling past people is speed, having at least a few extra flashy moves still helps.
Cristiano Ronaldo had basically reached the point where he could consistently suppress Pepe now.
Honestly, with Pepe constantly pushing him, Ronaldo had improved tremendously during this period.
And Fonte... forget it. He was the kind of basic player with no obvious characteristics. Just let him practice whatever; it didn't matter anymore.
"You can't do it today?"
On the pitch, Pepe completed another steal.
Ronaldo clearly seemed off his game today.
"Haha, I've got something to do today, so I'll deal with you next time." Ronaldo greeted Kai as he spoke. "I'm heading out for a bit. Don't wait for me for dinner tonight."
Watching Ronaldo leave in such a hurry, Kai frowned.
This felt... wrong.
Ronaldo had never left early before.
What's more, he had lost to Pepe today.
With Ronaldo's personality, he should've dragged Pepe into one-on-one battles until either Pepe lost or Pepe intentionally let him win.
Strange. Too damn strange.
Two hours later, it was already dark, and the extra training session finally ended.
Barzagli, Pepe, and Drogba went out to eat together, while Fonte headed home.
Zlatan wouldn't eat until later and returned to the players' dormitory first.
After taking a few steps, he realized Kai was following beside him.
"What are you doing?" Zlatan knew perfectly well that Kai didn't live in the players' dormitory.
Kai walked side by side with him. "From the way you moved today, it looks like you've practiced martial arts before. Karate? Taekwondo? Muay Thai?"
Zlatan paused for a moment. "Karate."
Kai asked, "Blue belt?"
Zlatan replied, "Black belt."
Kai smiled.
Zlatan thought Kai was mocking him and immediately got annoyed. "What? Want to try it?"
Kai shook his head. "I just think you made the wrong choice."
Zlatan snorted coldly and stayed silent.
Some people simply couldn't hold a conversation if their views didn't align.
"You're very tall, but your heading ability isn't good," Kai said bluntly. "Your physical confrontation isn't strong either. Physically, you're nowhere near Drogba, let alone the upgraded version of Jardel."
"I've watched your match videos. You love dribbling and showing off your footwork. Your balance and flexibility are excellent, and you can pull off a lot of outrageous passing and shooting techniques."
"You're not the type of player who likes solving problems with brute force. That's why when you're in trouble—whether it's Matthäus, Jardel, or even me—you subconsciously avoid using violence."
"With your personality, practicing karate is useless. Even if I locked you in the Red Room, you still wouldn't become some killing machine."
Zlatan narrowed his eyes.
The veins on his hand bulged slightly.
He was genuinely stunned.
Why did this Kai... understand him so well?
Even Zlatan himself had never thought about it this way, but after hearing Kai say it out loud, he realized it was true.
"If I had to describe you with a metaphor," Kai continued, "you're actually a lot like an elephant."
"You both look like giant war beasts capable of crushing mountains and destroying everything."
"But in reality, charging around violently isn't what you're best at. What you're best at is something more artistic, almost feminine. You deliberately make yourself look domineering. 'Zlatan never needs a trial,' right?"
"But deep down, you're an artist. You're not Shaquille O'Neal—you're Hakeem Olajuwon. You have no interest in violent aesthetics. What you really prefer are dreamy dance steps."
After a long silence, Zlatan neither agreed nor denied it. Instead, he asked, "You said I made the wrong choice. Karate doesn't suit me. Then what does?"
Kai suddenly made a strange movement that looked like someone playing mahjong.
Zlatan frowned. "What the hell is that?"
Kai replied, "Tai Chi, Deng Kai style!"
For some reason, Zlatan suddenly had the urge to shout something like "Wing Chun" or "Ip Man."
Kai explained, "Tai Chi looks calm and slow, but without calmness, where does the explosion come from? And to preserve that calmness, once you truly can't endure anymore, then you explode."
"The soft contains the hard, and the hard hides within the soft."
"Tai Chi can strengthen your natural flexibility, coordination, and your calm personality. But it can also teach you when to explode, where to explode, and how to explode."
"Of course, your football can be a beautiful waltz. But at the same time, hidden beneath that elegance, there also has to be a knife."
Boom!
Kai suddenly blasted a shot, trying to show Zlatan that explosive release after absolute calm.
Bang!
"Fuck! Who's playing football next to the dormitory? Isn't the training ground big enough for you idiots?"
"That Zlatan, I've got something to do, I'm leaving first. If anyone asks, don't tell them I was here."
"Don't worry, Kai!"
"Shit! Swedish boy, was that you?"
"No, no, no! It was Kai! Deng Kai! Caesar! He did it…"
…
Kai didn't know whether Tai Chi would actually help, but the problems within Zlatan were very real.
The first thing a rich second-generation kid says after achieving some minor success is usually, "My success has nothing to do with my family."
Which is honestly hilarious.
Most poor people also refuse to admit they're poor—unless someone asks to borrow money.
Football works the same way.
Players with strong physiques want others to praise their technique.
Players with excellent technique wish they had taller, stronger bodies.
Only after a rich kid truly accomplishes something significant, or after ordinary people finally understand the hardships their poor parents endured, do they begin acknowledging the advantages or disadvantages they were born with.
As Zlatan grew older, he gradually realized that his body was actually his greatest weapon. He began relying more on physical confrontation in his playing style, eventually becoming an overwhelming target-man striker.
But by then, it was already too late.
Realizing earlier what his height and strength truly meant might have been the key difference separating Zlatan from the heights of Messi and Ronaldo.
"Zlatan's style seems to have changed a bit." Triguera noticed the recent transformation from the sidelines.
"I heard he joined Young Master Kai's training group." Of course, Maxa couldn't see the deeper changes in Zlatan, but he knew where they came from.
"He's using his body much more frequently. Look at that play—he leaned into Deschamps, controlled the ball with his chest, flicked it up, then headed it forward twice in a row," Triguera said. "Deschamps was right beside him, but he couldn't do anything. Zlatan just bulldozed through."
"In the past, Zlatan would've avoided the physical duel and gone straight for the ball. But because he never limited Deschamps physically, Deschamps always had opportunities to knock him over during the process."
"His style has become more practical. From karate with all claws out... to Tai Chi balancing stillness and movement."
Maxa scratched his head in confusion. "But... didn't he practice karate before?"
"Fuck!"
The shout from the pitch instantly interrupted the conversation between Maxa and Triguera.
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