"Of course I know. What's up? Got an idea?"
Chen Yilun's words made Stevens chuckle. "No wonder they're calling you the Hyena now. You really do sniff out the scent and go straight for it."
"Hyena?" Chen Yilun paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.
"Great name! I like it!"
In the league, every notable figure—players, coaches, executives—eventually earned a nickname. For Chen Yilun to have one now meant his status was finally being recognized.
"How do you want to play this?"
Chen Yilun asked evenly.
"I'm staying out of it. I'll have Danny Ainge contact you later." Stevens shot him a knowing look, chuckled, and headed toward the locker room.
"What's going on?" Malone had appeared behind Chen Yilun without him noticing.
"Not sure. But I think… the Eastern Conference shakeup we predicted might be happening sooner than expected."
Stevens probing him like that today could only mean one thing: Boston's angel had already caught wind of solid intel. Somewhere, a team was about to experience an earthquake.
"Not telling you right now. I've got to get back to the office."
Leaving Malone still fishing for answers, Chen Yilun strode off the court in a rush.
Which team was about to be shaken up?
On the ride back to his office, Chen Yilun replayed the management shakeups he remembered from the original timeline. But none of them matched what should be happening right now.
Rebirth didn't mean invincibility. The league was only so big. Every move he made sent ripples through history, and now he could no longer predict what was coming.
"If I keep operating like this, the future could change too much. By then, even the heavenly eye won't be worth much."
The thought left a bitter taste.
Storming back into his office, Chen Yilun turned on his computer and began organizing his priorities.
Though he enjoyed exploiting every opportunity, he wasn't about to grab at everything.
"No more player moves for now." After some thought, he made the decision to stay put.
The roster was already well-rounded. The only player he truly coveted—Butler—wasn't available yet. Better to wait until the Bulls opened the door than to force anything.
"Instead, time to reinforce the staff."
Beyond Malone, only Chris and Chip stood out to him as true core members. Chris was building the defensive system. Chip was pure experience, leveling players up like a mentor package.
"We need a tactical coach."
"And a strength trainer too. Chip can hold the line for now, but we should really bring in a specialist."
That way, even if Malone's inexperience showed in the playoffs, the golden foundation Chen Yilun had built would still hold up.
In short, he wanted to increase the front office's margin for error.
Just as he finished drafting his plan and was about to shut the computer, his phone rang.
"Boss, big news!"
Peja's voice came over the line. "The Rockets just fired Kevin McHale! His assistant J.B. Bickerstaff is taking over!"
"Bickerstaff!"
The name flashed in Chen Yilun's mind.
This was the year Bickerstaff rose to prominence.
Under his watch, James Harden would be forged into his ultimate form. Dwight Howard, on the other hand, would collapse, reduced to a journeyman wandering the league.
"The Rockets won't be our enemy anymore."
Chen Yilun exhaled. "Forget them. There's no one on that roster I want. Harden's untouchable, and the front office is a mess. I'm not going near it."
History would always debate Bickerstaff's coaching. As an assistant replacing the veteran McHale, he steadied the team and kept them competitive.
But he also steered them into mistakes. He shifted the Rockets from a dual-core "modern" system into a Harden-only system, stripping Howard's touches until he became little more than a glorified role player.
Later, as Capela rose, Howard was cast aside completely.
Bickerstaff's system aligned with the times, elevating Harden into a fully realized Beard—but it wasted a still-prime Dwight Howard.
"Got it. I'll let you know if anything else happens."
Peja hung up.
Meanwhile, Bickerstaff stood awkwardly watching McHale pack his things.
"Coach, is there nothing you want to tell me before you go?"
"What's there for an old man like me to say?" McHale chuckled, free of bitterness, almost relieved.
"As a player, I couldn't have asked for more in my career. But as a coach… I was too mediocre."
He placed his mug into a box and shook his head.
"This team's strange. A head coach here lives caught between the GM, the owner, and the players. Strange, when you think about it."
McHale paused for a moment. "It wasn't like this when I first came. Back then, I had real autonomy. The team was moving forward steadily, just like I envisioned."
"When did it change? Maybe when Harden started showing his superstar talent and Morey began pampering him. I was forced to adjust the tactics repeatedly to suit his demands. That's when the team started slipping out of my control."
"When you take over, don't try to go toe-to-toe with Morey. You're not equipped for that fight. Just play along. Be his tool. Maybe you'll even leave with a decent reputation."
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser