On the pitch, Ibrahimović lost the ball after being swarmed and dispossessed while dribbling continuously outside the opponent's penalty area.
He immediately counter-pressed and rushed forward to complete a sliding tackle steal.
A sliding tackle sounded fierce, but in reality, Ibrahimović mainly used the advantage of his long legs to poke the ball away.
He did not even fully go to ground.
Moreover, he was very flexible, and most of the force from the tackle was absorbed by himself rather than crashing into the opponent afterward to release the momentum.
Even the strictest referee would not consider it a foul.
However, Jardel, who staggered a few steps after losing the ball, suddenly turned around and gave Ibrahimović a hard shove, directly knocking him away.
Ibrahimović was nearly 1.95 meters tall.
But Jardel was also over 1.9 meters.
And Jardel was much stronger.
Far stronger than the still-young Ibrahimović and Drogba.
"Can you fucking play football or not?" Jardel exploded in anger.
Half of it came from being dispossessed by Ibrahimović, and the other half simply came from disliking him.
That's football. If you already dislike someone a little, once the confrontation escalates, it's very easy for things to completely blow up.
"What are you doing?" Kai immediately rushed toward Jardel.
1.9 meters versus 1.65 meters… it was practically the cutest height difference imaginable.
"Get out of the way!" Jardel stretched out a hand and tried to shove Kai aside.
Ronaldo and Fonte reacted quickly and immediately followed.
Ronaldo grabbed hold of Jardel without saying a word.
When the big brother handled things, the little brothers had no right to negotiate. They only needed to take action.
"Jardel, don't do this," Fonte said while trying to pull Jardel away.
"Who the hell are you? Baldy, get the fuck away from me!" Jardel shoved Fonte aside with one hand.
See? That's the fate of a little brother who doesn't have enough presence.
Not far away, Deschamps immediately wanted to step in and stop the conflict.
But he first glanced toward Matthäus.
No matter what, the biggest figure on this team right now was Matthäus.
And by a huge margin.
Below Matthäus by several tiers were meritorious stars like Deschamps and João Pinto, then core players like Jardel and Quaresma.
After that came ordinary veterans like Paulo Bento, and club princes like Viana.
As for Ronaldo, Kai, and the others, they might not even become starters.
Before Triguera made a final decision, these young players were more like youth-team talents being rewarded with first-team training opportunities because of their excellent performances.
"It's just kids messing around. No need to get involved. Besides… the little guy isn't weak at all." Matthäus pursed his lips.
Deschamps turned back to look.
Pepe, Barzagli, and Drogba had also walked over.
Including Ronaldo and Ibrahimović, the five players standing behind Kai were actually pretty intimidating.
After all, even the shortest one there, Ronaldo, was over 1.8 meters tall.
On the other side, João Pinto and Bento were hesitating while slowly walking over.
After all, they were also newcomers to the team, and Jardel was the leading striker.
Offending Jardel would be unwise.
But offending six people wasn't smart either.
That was no small faction in any locker room.
Not to mention Kai and Ronaldo were among them.
Pinto, who had already seen the strength and temperament of Kai and Cristiano Ronaldo back at Benfica, also knew how deeply Triguera valued them.
Maybe… these two kids would become starters sooner or later!
As for the rest, they were only rotational players.
They all knew it.
Kwame Ayew, Marcos, Santos, and the other fringe players also didn't dare intervene. They only stood around watching from a distance.
"What, looking for backup? Just these short guys and skinny bamboo poles?" Jardel was brutally honest, true to his usual style.
But notably, his body did not move forward.
"Ibrahimović's tackle was completely within the rules. Everyone saw that he pulled back his strength," Kai stared directly at Jardel. "But your shove would be a red card in any match."
"So whose problem do you think this is?"
"If you think training is just children fooling around, then why the hell are you training? Isn't that unprofessional?"
"What, you want Matthäus-level treatment too? Sure. Win a World Cup, a European Championship, World Player of the Year, Ballon d'Or—pick one. Do you have any of those?"
"We're all ordinary players here. If you think Ibrahimović embarrassed you with that tackle, then steal it back from him. But don't fucking use boxing against him."
Kai's attitude was extremely firm, and Ibrahimović would later be nicknamed God.
Now Caesar had declared that this God belonged to him!
"Hmph!" Jardel looked disdainful, but he did not continue arguing.
After all, there were too many people on the other side. If he really started fighting, he would be at a disadvantage.
Fortunately, Maxa ran over at that moment. He scolded Jardel and said he would take both Jardel and Ibrahimović to the office.
"I'm going too. I saw everything, I'm a witness," Kai said.
Maxa agreed immediately.
Jardel raised an eyebrow, clearly disgusted by this "troublemaking" kid.
Ibrahimović said nothing, but a warm feeling flashed through his heart.
In a foreign country, when you're bullied by someone with higher status and greater strength, and someone chooses to stand in front of you—even willing to face the scary office and the scary head coach together with you—who wouldn't feel moved?
As for Kai, he only wanted to tell Ibrahimović that it really wasn't that scary. After all, both Old Te and Little Ma had practically been trained by him.
Sure enough, after entering the office, Triguera immediately blasted Jardel with a serious scolding.
After all, Triguera was the head coach, and a new official always burns three fires upon taking office. Since Jardel had run into him head-on, he couldn't blame Triguera for not giving face!
After a long lecture, Jardel was punished with running laps around the training ground.
Although Jardel was unhappy, he could only endure it after hearing Triguera say, "If you don't run, then apologize to Ibrahimović in front of the whole team."
To be honest, this scene shocked Ibrahimović a little.
Jardel, the absolute main force of the team and the unquestioned boss of the forward line, had been punished like this.
So what kind of criticism would a newcomer like him receive?
"Kai, Jardel didn't hurt you, right? If something happened to you, I really…" Triguera suddenly remembered Ibrahimović was still there halfway through speaking, so he quickly motioned for Ibrahimović to sit down as well. "Everyone sit down and talk slowly."
Ibrahimović's worldview collapsed on the spot.
Wasn't Mr. Triguera, the famous youth-development coach comparable to Professor Wenger, supposed to be stern, selfless, and expressionless?
How the hell…
"Kai, do you want iced water or black tea?" Maxa skillfully picked up the tea-making tools.
"Why not iced black tea?" Kai replied.
"That's no problem at all!" Maxa smiled slightly.
Ever since learning that Director Kai would return this season—no, Coach Kai, no, actually Sporting Director Kai, because there was only one true sporting director behind the club's summer operations—Maxa had worked desperately to master all kinds of skills.
This summer alone, he had learned tea-making, Portuguese egg tarts, coconut milk jelly, ginger milk pudding, tiramisu, latte art coffee, Wudu ice jelly, and even dry pancakes with cold noodles, along with many classic Chinese and Western dishes.
The goal was simple.
To make Director Kai feel right at home.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You can visit my Patreon page:
Patreon.com/PhoeniXcel
I upload 2 chapters daily on Patreon!
There are 250+ advanced chapters available for you to read.
Your support would be greatly appreciated.
📢 Check out my new Naruto fanfic!
[Marvel: Living the Laid-Back Life]