In a high-end restaurant in Boston, Chen Yilun and Danny Ainge sat face to face. As the man most likely to cause trouble for Cleveland in the East, Chen Yilun wasn't opposed to lending Ainge a hand. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
"Tsk." Ainge sipped a fine sherry and said, "Yilun, I've been wanting to sit down for dinner with you for a long time, but time's always been too tight. Finally caught you today, so we've got to enjoy a proper drink."
Chen Yilun raised his glass in return and took a sip.
It wasn't surprising that Ainge didn't know much about him. In fact, the entire circle of general managers knew very little about Chen Yilun. He had risen too quickly. Aside from a few connections within the Spurs system, most people in the league had barely noticed his existence.
"I've admired your work for a long time," Chen said, "but unfortunately, we never had the chance to meet before."
"Your Kings are running the West right now—you've even pushed your own teacher down the ladder," Ainge said slyly, narrowing his eyes with a grin.
Chen laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Better not let Pop hear that, or I'll be in trouble." Casually adjusting the food on his plate, he continued, "Danny, you didn't come to dinner today just to chat, did you?"
"I just enjoy working with young guys like you." Ainge paused and gave him a thumbs-up. "Same as Stevens—always full of fire. So I'll get straight to the point. We're planning to make a move before the trade deadline. Thought I'd ask if you might want in."
Chen set down his fork. "Oh? You're planning something?"
Ainge glanced around, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice. "Phoenix."
Sure enough. Chen instantly understood. History was repeating itself—the old fox was circling the Suns once again.
"You're after one of those three, aren't you?"
"Nothing finalized yet. Either Dragic or Thomas."
"And you're coming to me because…?"
Ainge spread his hands helplessly. "The price hasn't been settled. I figured I'd see if you'd be interested in joining a three-way."
It all clicked into place. According to the original timeline, the Celtics ended up sending Marcus Thornton plus a protected first-round pick to the Suns for Isaiah Thomas. But Thornton had already been traded to the Cavaliers in Chen's timeline—that single variable was enough to stall negotiations.
"This…" Chen rubbed his hands, looking embarrassed. "I can't give you an answer right now. Let me head back to Sacramento, sort through some things, and get back to you."
"Of course, of course." Ainge clinked glasses with him. He hadn't expected to seal the deal that night anyway.
The league's way of doing business had long borrowed from European soccer traditions—deals often took shape over food and drinks, sealed with a few toasts across the table.
Satisfied with Chen's response, Ainge was in high spirits. The two of them drank until the restaurant closed before finally parting ways.
As they stepped out, Chen, feigning drunkenness, leaned in and whispered, "If you really go through with a trade… between Dragic and Thomas, I'd go with Thomas. I know him well—he's the best fit for your team right now."
...
Dragging his weary body back to the hotel, Chen collapsed onto the bed—only to hear the familiar, emotionless voice of the System.
"Beep! Host has completed the task. Beginning settlement."
"Calculation complete. Host participated in a special interview. Rating: A+. Now distributing rewards."
The familiar turntable appeared before his eyes and began to spin.
"Congratulations, Host, you've obtained the 'Catch-and-Shoot' bronze badge. When bound to a player, that player's catch-and-shoot ability increases by +5."
What a prize! The sight of the badge sobered Chen up instantly. As someone who played NBA 2K, he knew exactly how valuable it was.
Even as a bronze badge, it wasn't some worthless throwaway. This was a must-have for any 3-and-D player. Staring at it, Chen suddenly remembered something. In a flash, he leapt out of bed.
He grabbed his laptop, pulled it open, and started searching. When he found the answer he wanted, a sly grin spread across his face.
At first, he had only been curious to see if he could help the Celtics and maybe scoop up a bargain along the way. But given the circumstances, it was clear—this was a mess he couldn't afford to stay out of.
...
The next day, Chen flew with the team straight to Minnesota. But the moment he stepped off the plane, his players surrounded him.
"Boss, today's New Year's Day. Tradition says you've got to pick up the check for a team dinner tonight." Cousins and Oden blocked the doorway with their towering frames.
Seeing the grins on their faces, Chen knew instantly he'd been cornered.
"Come on. Since when is that a tradition? Most of you guys are my age—or older. Rudy, at your age you've got the nerve to stick me with the bill?" Chen spotted Rudy Gay hiding in the crowd, half amused and half annoyed.
Rudy Gay, the oldest on the roster, was already pushing 30.
"Hehehe." Gay stepped forward sheepishly. "Boss, don't blame us. We figured the team dinner tab should come from management. We tried Coach first, but he ducked it and told us to ask you instead."
As soon as he finished, a stocky, balding middle-aged man at the door slipped away in a hurry.
"Mike!" Chen's furious roar echoed through the hotel.
In the end, he couldn't win against the team's pressure and reluctantly agreed to cover a modest team dinner. Of course, no one dared push too far. As professionals, most of them earned more than he did—they just wanted to share a little good-natured fun.
Back at the hotel, Chen went straight to his room, opened his laptop, and got to work.
"If this is really how it's going to play out, then I'm going to be busy for a while," he muttered, eyes fixed on the calendar.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser