After the interview, Chen Yilun immediately switched back into work mode. Next up were the Bulls. The Kings once again defended their home court, but in the following four away games, they only managed a 2–2 record—losing once to the red-hot Rockets and once in San Antonio, where the Spurs completed the sweep against them.
By the time they returned to Sacramento, it was already late November. Their next opponent was the Grizzlies, who had been on fire since the start of the season with a 14–2 record, sitting second in the West. The Kings were currently 11–5, holding fourth place in the West—just barely inside the top four.
But now, Chen Yilun had a new problem on his mind. One of the System's challenge tasks required that at least two players from his team make this year's All-Star lineup. The reward? The Intermediate Boost Gift Pack—the one he wanted most.
From the last Boost Gift Pack, he had pulled a Dual-Threat Guard 101 badge and a Team Three-Point Boost card. The 101 badge was already bound to his go-to guy CJ, while the Boost card remained his most powerful hidden ace.
If he could produce two All-Stars, he'd get another Intermediate Boost Gift Pack. That would be a massive boost to his plans.
The problem was—how was he supposed to make two All-Stars? Sure, the Kings had a solid record so far, but Sacramento was still a small market—low population, low exposure.
And to make things worse, the Western Conference was stacked. The league was in a clear "West strong, East weak" era. It wasn't like in the East, where even a 3-and-D player like Kyle Korver could make the All-Star Game. Out West, it was a shark tank.
Right now, the only players with any real shot were Cousins and CJ. Cousins was a given. As for CJ, under Mike Malone's guidance—and with the boost from his badge—he'd already become a top-tier guard. But in the Western guard rankings, he was barely hanging on. In front of him were Curry, Kobe, Harden, Paul, Lillard, and Thompson. Every single one of them was a mountain to climb—and that's not even counting the guys behind him: Westbrook, Rondo, Jeremy Lin...
Wait. Jeremy Lin?
Seeing Lin's name on the voting list, Chen Yilun froze. How was Lin even here?
If he remembered correctly, Lin's "Linsanity" days were long past. This season, he was bouncing between being the Lakers' second and third scoring option, averaging maybe 12 points a game. So how was he on the list?
The confusion lasted only a second before Chen Yilun slapped himself on the forehead. Of course! Lin still had a huge, loyal fan base across Asia, which gave him a big boost in the voting.
Even though the NBA had changed the voting rules after Yao Ming famously knocked Shaq off the top spot as a rookie—greatly reducing the impact of overseas voting—his international following was still massive enough to make a difference. Which meant... there was a window of opportunity.
The thought made Chen Yilun jump to his feet from his office chair.
...
In the home locker room, Mike Malone was in the middle of a tactical briefing when the door burst open and Chen Yilun stormed in, grabbing his hand.
"What's going on, Yilun? Your face is all red," Malone said, bewildered.
"Mike, let's talk outside."
Without waiting for agreement, Chen Yilun pulled Malone out of the room, leaving the rest of the players staring at each other in confusion.
"How many All-Stars do you think we can have this year?" Chen Yilun asked, eyes intense.
"All-Stars? Why the sudden question?" Malone was puzzled, but he thought it over seriously. "We didn't have a single one last year. Cousins has a real shot this season—last year our record was too bad for him to make it. Gay isn't even in the top ten. CJ made the list, but there are so many elite guards in the West that his chances are slim."
"Do you think we could get both CJ and Cousins in?"
At first, Malone thought he was joking. But the serious look on Yilun's face said otherwise.
"That's almost impossible. Even with our improved record, our foundation is weak, and our market's too small to get that many votes."
"I know it's tough, but there's still a chance, right? My point is—while keeping the team competitive, can we boost their stats significantly over the next month?"
"That's on them. I can give them more touches, but they still have to make the shots."
"That's fine, that's fine. Just do it my way—give them the ball and let them pile up stats." Yilun pressed the point hard. "Mike, I've got your back. The boss has high expectations this season. He even asked me if we should bring in a big-name coach. I've been vouching for you, even putting my word on the line to keep you here."
The half-truths left Malone dazed.
"I also heard a rumor," Yilun leaned in, "the boss might be looking at George Karl."
Boom. It was like a nuclear bomb went off in Malone's head. George Karl—a thousand-win coach, future Hall of Famer. If it was really him, Malone wouldn't even compare.
"Then... what am I supposed to do?" Malone's brain felt like it had short-circuited. One moment, he was dreaming of becoming a legendary Kings coach; the next, he was being told he might be packing his bags.
"That's why we need results—results that will make the boss not want to fire you." Yilun's voice was like a devil's whisper. "Like getting two All-Stars this year. That way, we lock in a strong record, make the boss look good, and he won't want to let you go. What do you say?"
Seeing Malone nodding vigorously, Yilun suddenly realized—he might actually have a knack for persuasion. This great coach had just been talked into it.
...
When Malone returned to the locker room, he scrapped all the tactics he'd just set up.
"Everyone—run your spots and crash the boards! If Cousins calls for it inside, give it to him immediately and space the floor for his iso. Second unit—set solid screens and get CJ open looks! Got it?"
The players didn't understand why the coach had suddenly thrown out the previous plan for something different. Well... not entirely different—this was a strategy usually saved for when all else had failed and the stars had to go one-on-one. It had never been used as a standard game plan.
But strange or not, no one objected. The only player who might have complained was Gay—but he was perfectly happy to have fewer touches. Less work, same paycheck. What was there to argue about?
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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