"What are you two whispering about?"
On the Kings' private jet, Chen Yilun sat down with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Across from him, Oden and Durant were chatting quietly, deep in conversation.
"We're just talking about our college days," Durant said with a grin.
"You have no idea how dominant he was back then. The guy was unstoppable in the NCAA—he completely destroyed me during March Madness."
"Oh, I remember that!" Chen Yilun's eyes lit up.
"In the finals that year, Greg went up against Horford and Noah—he took both of them apart all by himself!"
In the past, Oden would've been embarrassed to bring up his glory days. But ever since joining the Kings, he'd slowly climbed out of that dark place. Now, he could finally face his past—and even laugh about it.
Seeing his old college rival finally move past the pain of failure, Durant felt genuinely happy for him.
"I didn't even realize it until you mentioned it," Chen Yilun chuckled.
"So the No.1 and No.2 picks from the '07 draft are both on our team now?"
"And me!"
Thaddeus Young suddenly popped out of nowhere.
"I'm Class of '07 too! Just... not as lucky. Only the 12th pick."
"None of you guys have a ring yet!" Chen Yilun downed the rest of his coffee and stood up.
"This year, I'll make sure you Class of '07 boys get three championship rings!"
"Boss, you're the man!" the others cheered, clapping and laughing.
"Of course I am," Chen said proudly. "You know what kind of boss I am."
"What kind? The kind who's trying to poach players from right under my nose!"
A sharp voice suddenly rang out in a high-end restaurant in New Orleans, drawing stares from nearby diners.
"Coach Gentry, easy! This is a fancy place!"
Chen Yilun was all smiles now, his earlier confidence gone, replaced by shameless flattery.
Realizing he'd overreacted, Alvin Gentry huffed angrily and sat back down.
"Now I understand why Coach always scolded you—you're like a little hyena that only bites people it knows!"
"I don't do it on purpose!" Chen protested, sounding almost pitiful.
"The league's small, you know. Half the teams have guys from our coaching tree—it's impossible to avoid running into someone!"
"You still shouldn't have targeted me!" Gentry snapped.
"I just got this job, and you're already here trying to steal my players. What, I don't deserve any respect?"
"It's not like I'm asking for charity!" Chen said, sounding almost righteous.
"Coach, I really want your Holiday."
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward.
"Come on, Holiday's been in and out with injuries these past two years—he even had a stress fracture in his right leg. Better let me take him off your hands."
"Sure, he's had injuries," Gentry shot back, raising an eyebrow, "but he's been perfectly healthy for over a year now. You're still using that as an excuse?"
"Either way, he's not for sale. And you want to trade your pile of scrap for my starting point guard? Not happening."
"Scrap?!" Chen's eyes widened.
"Josh Richardson has been training under me for a year! Yeah, he was a second-round pick, but you've seen him play—he's a solid combo guard with perfect wing size.
And Bojan? I've spent two years turning him into a pure shooter. Uncle Chip coached him hands-on last year. The guy shoots lights-out!"
But no matter how much Chen talked, Gentry wasn't budging.
"Two decent second-rounders for my former All-Star? Keep dreaming."
He raised a finger.
"The owner wants us building around AD and making the playoffs. If I trade Holiday, I'll be packing my bags tomorrow! Unless…"
He paused, thinking for a moment.
"You give me CJ or Booker. Pick one. Then we can talk."
"No way!" Chen shook his head furiously.
"No chance. Those two were key parts of my Western Conference Finals team. I can't give them up."
"Then there's nothing left to discuss." Gentry leaned back in his chair and spread his hands.
"Man, you're making this really hard for me."
Hard? Then don't bother!
Resisting the urge to joke, Chen forced a smile, keeping his tone steady.
"Alright, how about I throw in a rookie? We've got plenty this year anyway."
"No deal. I'm not trading quality for quantity." Gentry shook his head.
"This trade's way too risky. Even if I wanted to help you, the front office would never approve it."
At the end of the day, Chen's offer boiled down to two solid second-rounders and a rookie wild card for Holiday.
As the Pelicans' head coach, there was no way Gentry would agree to that.
But truthfully, Chen never expected to close the deal over one meal.
Trading a player of Holiday's caliber—especially when the home team hadn't even put him on the market—was bound to turn into a long tug-of-war.
His real goal tonight wasn't to finalize the trade. He was playing the long game—throwing Holiday's name out as bait to catch the Pelicans' attention while setting up his next move behind the scenes.
"You're really stingy, you know that?" Chen said as he finished the last of his water.
"Anyway, enough talk. Let's grab some drinks tonight—my treat!"
"Deal!" Gentry laughed as he stood up. "You're loaded now, kid. Tonight, I'm making you pay!"
...
"Coach Alvin Gentry went drinking with that Hyena?"
In the Pelicans' front office, a man with a Latin complexion frowned as he listened to his assistant's report.
"Yes, sir. After the game, they left together. Chen Yilun took him to dinner, and now they've gone to a bar. Our people say Coach Gentry seemed to be in a pretty good mood."
The assistant hesitated for a moment before speaking again.
"Boss, is it really okay for us to be spying on the new coach like this?"
"What's wrong with it? We're not spying on him—we're keeping tabs on Chen Yilun. If Gentry happens to get caught in the crossfire, that's not on me. Even if he finds out, he'll understand."
Pelicans GM Trajan Langdon sighed, clearly irritated.
"Never underestimate that Hyena. He almost never leaves his den, but when he does, he's always plotting something. Keep our people on him."
"Understood."
The assistant nodded and left, leaving Langdon alone in the office.
"Chen Yilun…" he murmured, staring up at the ceiling.
"What exactly are you after in New Orleans? What do you want from me?"
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser