"Run faster! Move it!"
The Sacramento training facility echoed with shouts and the sound of sneakers squeaking on hardwood.
All around the court, muscular players—some shirtless, others wearing only thin training vests—were drenched in sweat as they powered through drills.
"Man, we're stacked. Absolutely stacked."
Malone stood on the sideline, grinning so wide his face nearly split.
"You're just gonna stand there and watch?"
Chen Yilun glanced at him, a bit surprised. Normally at this point, Malone would be right in the middle of things, leading the drills himself. What was with him just watching from the sidelines today?
"Back when we were short-handed, I had to handle everything myself," Malone said with a laugh.
"But ever since Brown came in, my workload's gone way down."
After all, Mike Brown wasn't some young assistant like Chris—he was a legitimate former NBA head coach, and by seniority alone, he even outranked Malone.
Coaches of his pedigree rarely accepted anything less than a head coach position.
The only reason he'd come to the Kings at all was because of Chen Yilun. Anyone else wouldn't have stood a chance.
"Yilun!"
Mike Brown came walking off the court, forehead glistening with sweat.
"You're too stingy as the boss, man! Turn down the AC a little, will you? Look at me—I'm sweating buckets out here!"
"I'm not the building manager," Chen Yilun said with a laugh. "You've got plenty of people in management here—why don't one of you go tell them?"
Brown chuckled and wiped his forehead with a towel.
"But I'll tell you this," he said, catching his breath. "When I first came to Sacramento, I thought I was doing you a favor. Now it looks like you're the one helping me get a ring."
When Brown had agreed to join the Kings, the Durant trade hadn't gone through yet. It looked like he was coming in as a mentor to help boost the team's competitiveness. Then Durant dropped into Sacramento out of nowhere.
Just like that, Brown went from being the helpful veteran coach to the opportunistic mentor chasing a championship.
"Don't say that!"
Chen Yilun quickly waved his hand.
"I went through a lot to bring you here. Your training methods are exactly what we've been missing. We've got a ton of young guys—they all need your guidance."
"I know, I know," Brown said, grinning. "Don't worry, I'll give it everything I've got. Otherwise, I won't feel right wearing that ring."
With that, he turned and jogged back onto the court to continue training.
Unlike Malone, Brown's biggest strength as a coach was how naturally he blended with the players. His upbeat personality made him a favorite in the locker room, and he often trained right alongside them.
Watching him work, Malone sighed contentedly.
"Since Brown came on board, my load's gotten a lot lighter. Feels like we've got two head coaches now."
You're way too relaxed, old man.
Chen Yilun couldn't help thinking that to himself.
Aren't you even a little worried that Brown and I might just team up, take over, and run the whole team ourselves?
Still, that kind of trust said a lot. Malone clearly trusted Chen Yilun completely.
"Alright, everyone done warming up?"
After the last drill, Malone grabbed his clipboard and walked onto the court.
"Time for an intra-squad scrimmage!"
He looked down at his notes and began calling names.
"CJ, Ben, Butler, Gay, Oden—you're one group."
"Murray, Booker, Durant, Young, Jokić—you're the other. Five-minute break, then we start!"
As soon as Malone finished, the players began gathering with their teammates.
Only then did Chen Yilun realize just how deep the Kings' roster really was.
Either of these two lineups could compete for the playoffs on their own—and Sacramento had both.
Even Richardson and Bojan, who were training with the team, couldn't get a spot in the scrimmage.
At this point, it wasn't just a second unit—it was practically two full playoff-caliber teams.
Chen Yilun sat down on a bench, deep in thought.
And with the guys developing in the G-League… I could probably field a Kings third team.
A strange thought crossed his mind—he'd unintentionally built something like a full-on youth system.
Players developed under his watch—those who thrived rose up, those who didn't were moved down, and the rest could even be traded for value.
As that realization settled in, the scrimmage began.
Malone had built the two lineups based on each player's strengths.
The Butler-led group was the Kings' foundation—a tactical setup built around Butler's leadership. CJ and Ben didn't need the ball much, while Gay and Oden helped Butler finish plays inside.
Durant's team, on the other hand, was a terrifying small-ball lineup.
Murray, as the rookie, had one job: bring the ball across half court and hound on defense.
The Durant–Jokić duo was poised to be the Kings' next-season superweapon, with Booker and Young spacing the floor from the outside.
Just imagining that system was enough to scare anyone.
And soon enough, the game proved Malone right.
Now entering his third year, Jokić had taken another major step forward under the coaching staff and Divac's guidance.
He'd never felt so effortless in a game before—no matter where he passed, Durant was always there, catching and scoring with ease.
And with Durant drawing so much attention, Booker found himself wide open again and again, draining shots from the perimeter.
Team Butler still held steady thanks to Butler and CJ's consistent output, but their efficiency couldn't match Durant's squad.
In the end, Team Durant took the win without much trouble.
"Nice game!"
After the buzzer, Durant went straight over to Butler.
"I kept thinking during the game—if it were you, I'd never want to face you in the playoffs."
That wasn't empty flattery.
Butler was the league's top wing defender, and Durant had struggled in every isolation attempt against him. Without Jokić's help, it wouldn't have been such an easy win.
"You too," Butler said with a grin. "I had some doubts before, but after spending these last two days with you, I'm confident leaving this team in your hands."
"Lead us to that damn championship ring."
Durant nodded seriously.
"Don't worry, Jimmy. I'm not here to take anyone's spot. We're family now—and we're going to stand together on that podium."
"New season—we're coming!"