New Skill: "Strength lv1"

New Skill: "Strength lv1"

Finally, an upgrade!

Maël crashed to the ground and lay on the damp, soft grass, gasping for breath, his face full of satisfaction and release.

He had been close to his limit.

Luckily, he had gritted his teeth and held on to that last breath, earning the improvement today.

The bitterness was finally over!

"With sufficient preparation and full force, can occasionally produce shots of excellent quality."

That was the Proficiency Panel's assessment of Maël's current shooting level. The concept was a little abstract.

But Maël's own feeling was crystal clear.

This upgrade had brought him not only power, but also many force-generation techniques, aiming techniques, and Muscle Memory honed through endless repetition! With these, the probability of producing excellent quality, with both ball speed and angle, should be around thirty to forty percent.

"But there's one prerequisite: sufficient preparation and full force."

In the high-level competitive rhythm of modern football, defenders generally would not give attacking players too much space to adjust and aim.

For Maël to get a chance to "draw the bow to its fullest" in a match was as hard as climbing to the sky.

If he got one chance every ninety minutes, that would already count as lucky.

"But this is only lv2 Long Shot. There are still three levels after this."

Maël did not belittle himself. Everything had only just begun, and he still had enormous room to grow.

At the very least, by Youth Academy standards, he had gone from a mediocre player to a heavy cannon with a Brutal Long Shot, someone with a defined weapon.

This type of player was popular on any team.

Because they had the ability to suddenly break open the state of a match through their own power!

As for how he would make the coaching staff notice this strength? Maël was not worried. There were few chances to draw the bow fully in matches, but not few in training.

The twice-weekly shooting training sessions were his best chance to show it!

lv2 Long Shot had already given him a certain degree of competitiveness. What about lv3?

Would it shorten his preparation time and give him more chances to generate power on the pitch? "For now, I won't try to dig into other skills. I'll focus on training Long Shot."

Maël knew that having many skills without mastering any was no good. If he could raise Long Shot to lv3 before the trial period ended, staying in The Gunners' Youth Academy should not be a problem.

After resting for a while, his feet itching, he stood up and prepared to try a couple of shots before heading back to the dormitory to shower.

It was already four in the afternoon, and many Arsenal U17 players had also come to the field for extra training. Quite a few of them fixed their eyes on Maël.

"Maël, why did you change boots?"

A tall young man with a head full of blond hair led several others toward Maël, mockery on his face. "I heard someone say that after training, you still go work part-time?"

Maël glanced at him and did not reply.

This was Ian, Arsenal U17's English center-back. His football ability could be considered top-tier within the team.

However, Ian, who had been born and raised in London, looked down heavily on the foreign players in the team.

He believed that only people like him deserved Britain's youth academy resources, and that the other foreign players were nothing but thieves who had come to steal job opportunities.

"You earned those from part-time work?"

Seeing Maël ignore him, Ian's anger simmered, and his expression cooled slightly. "Doesn't look like the newest model. How about you clean my boots for me? Wash them for two months, and I'll give you a pair of the newest boots?"

"Hahaha." A burst of laughter came from behind him. Most of them split their mouths in grins, while only a small number looked grave, as if they felt this should not be happening.

"Oh."

Ian directed and acted out his own little scene, pretending as if he had just remembered something. "You're still not an official Arsenal player. Your contract with the team is only six months.

"Counting the days, it's almost up. Then forget the cleaning. I'm afraid you'll have to leave before you even finish two months. If you don't complete the term, you can't get paid."

Another burst of laughter rang out. Ian laughed along with them, then shook his head and continued fanning the flames. "What a pity. A kid with no home like you, once you leave, you'll never be able to come back here again."

After saying that, he and the group strolled past Maël, their steps light and cheerful.

Bang!!

But right then, a dull sound rang out.

Maël suddenly drew his bow and loosed an arrow, firing the ball hard toward the goal. The path of the football's flight happened to be right along the route Ian and the others were walking.

Hitting someone from close range was not difficult. With his current level, he could absolutely do it.

"Pff!" Ian heard the sound and instinctively turned around to look, only for the football to slam squarely into the area around his stomach. The huge impact made his stomach cave in sharply, churning violently inside.

Afterward, an indescribable pain surged from his stomach. He clutched his belly and dropped to his knees, utterly furious, but only able to make muffled "hnn, hnn" sounds.

"What are you doing?!"

A player who was on good terms with Ian supported him with one hand and pointed at Maël with the other, demanding an explanation. "That Frenchman definitely did it on purpose!"

Beside him, two people quickly approached Maël with fierce expressions, as if they would start fighting at the slightest disagreement.

The scene instantly descended into chaos. Some people from other parts of the pitch also came over to watch the commotion. Some sighed, while others secretly felt delighted.

"Shoot! What kind of footballer is afraid of getting hit by a football?"

Maël shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That really would be a coward."

With that, he turned and headed off the pitch. The test had worked pretty well. Time to go back to the dorm and rest.

The people behind him hesitated, but in the end, they did not follow.

Starting trouble and getting into a fight inside the club was definitely unwise. If the coach found out, they could be suspended from matches and training, or even kicked off the team.

Anyone could tell Maël had done that on purpose, but he had controlled the degree perfectly. There was nothing they could really pursue.

"Damn it!"

After thinking for a while, some of the local England players still could not swallow their anger. Two of them copied him, tacitly took out footballs, aimed in Maël's direction, and lashed them hard.

But their accuracy was far off. They did not even get within a meter of Maël.

The two kicked in perfect tacit understanding, then blushed in perfect tacit embarrassment. In the end, all they could do was point at Maël's back and curse, "Just you wait!"

At nine o'clock the next morning, in the gym at the Training Base.

Every member of Arsenal's U17 Team was on the floor doing side planks, training their core strength.

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

Head Coach Hans walked as he spoke, scratching his shiny bald head, his tone stern. "That's why strength training three times a week is essential, and I will absolutely not allow anyone to slack off.

"I don't want the Arsenal Youth Academy to produce nothing but showpieces with good technical ability. My players must possess fierce ability in physical duels.

"Many of you already have tactics and techniques at the level of EFL League One, even the Championship. The reason no club has loaned you out is that they're afraid you won't be able to keep up with the physical rhythm!"

Hearing the Head Coach define their level of ability like that, quite a few of them grew excited, gritting their teeth and holding on.

In their eyes, the EFL Championship and League One were definitely not second-tier leagues no one wanted to go to.

They were the best places to sharpen their level and experience, and to build their value and visibility! They were also places they could actually see and touch.

"Damn Frenchman. One day I'll skin you alive and pull out your tendons."

Unlike the others, who were dreaming of professional teams, Ian clearly had not yet moved on from yesterday's humiliation. He kept muttering something under his breath, his gaze locked firmly on Maël.

Maël noticed it, but he did not really care about him.

Just from that name, he looked like someone who never made a name for himself later, the type with only a bit of ability who still liked to slosh it around.

He was different. He had a bright future. All he had to do was focus on football and improve his own strength.

Someone like that could hardly count as an opponent. Once he grinded a little more, he would leave him far behind.

At that moment, several lines of text abruptly appeared before Maël's eyes again, drawing his attention.

Skill: Strength lv1

Proficiency: 129/300

Effect: You have gained a preliminary understanding of the necessity of increasing bodily strength and enhancing physicality, but you are still far too thin and weak. You long for the moment of upgrade.

A new skill? Maël's eyes shifted. Strength lv1 came from the strength training I'm doing right now?

It seemed his guess had indeed been right. As long as he carried out specialized training for a certain amount of time, he could obtain the corresponding specialized skill.

Only, why was the proficiency for Strength lv1 directly equal to Long Shot lv2?