"Look at that!"
Butler jolted up from the bench.
"What did I tell you! D. Rose is still that same unstoppable force. He just took a couple of years off, that's all."
"Alright, alright. Your leg's not even fully healed—sit down."
Gay quickly gestured for Butler to sit, then looked toward Rose with a meaningful expression.
"Didn't expect it… that last play really did look like his old self."
Among those sitting on the bench, only Butler and Gay had truly witnessed the Windy City Rose at his peak.
Back then, Rose shined like no one else—leading Noah, Luol Deng, and the rest of his "bodyguards" into war against the Heat's Big Three. Those days were unforgettable.
"Feels like it's been ages since we've seen Rose like that."
Gay smacked his lips and murmured to himself.
Ages?
Not really.
It's only been five years.
But the world of pro sports is cruel. A superstar who once soared to the heavens can fall into the mud in an instant.
Having long watched the endless cycle of rise and fall in the league, Gay didn't believe in fairy tales about Rose returning to dominance. To him, this Rose was more like the fading sparks left over from a once-raging fire.
As the game went on, the Kings—seeing Rose heating up—were more than happy to feed him the ball. In just three minutes, Rose went 5-for-3 and tallied 7 points with an assist.
Sensing danger, the Timberwolves called a timeout.
"How's the body feeling?"
Watching Rose walk off slowly, Malone asked gently.
"Great!"
Rose's usually melancholy eyes now shone with joy. "I feel amazing. I could keep going forever."
"That's good, but…"
Malone hesitated, then continued.
"The season's still long. We're going to need you for a long time. Today is partly to get your touch back, and partly to help you adjust to the team's system. Here's what we'll do next."
He drew another play on the board.
"Derrick, start the offense from the weak side. Those last few plays already pulled their attention onto you. After you create the opening, don't just blindly crash into the Interior defense—your body takes too big a hit from that. When you get here, Booker, you come over for the catch."
As he spoke, Malone drew a big sweeping arc.
"Durant, loop around this way. If the connection between Booker and Rose doesn't produce anything, you'll catch it here. Either way, you'll get a one-on-one opportunity."
"Got it!"
Durant nodded, standing there in a hilariously nerdy posture.
Hearing Malone's words, some of the excitement faded from Rose's face.
"Derrick, understand?"
Seeing Rose silent, Malone asked again.
"No problem."
This time Rose snapped out of it and nodded, as if waking from a dream.
Those few possessions earlier had felt so natural, so easy, that for a moment he felt transported back to those burning years. But Malone's reminder made him realize—he was no longer that invincible Rose.
Still, he adjusted quickly. Anyone who's reached the summit isn't the type to cling to past glory. Back on the floor, Rose returned to work, using his court vision and experience to guide the team.
"Rudy, get ready—you're going in."
Malone shouted to Gay, who'd been chatting and joking with the young guys on the bench.
"Again? You're trying to kill us old guys."
Gay grumbled while pulling on his jersey and getting to his feet.
After the dead ball, he exchanged a lazy high-five with Durant and strolled onto the court.
"He's really this laid-back all the time?"
Rose was stunned watching Gay's unwilling expression. Was this what professional discipline looked like?
"You'll get used to it."
Standing beside him, Siakam chuckled.
"Gay's always like that. Says he's giving us young guys a chance, but honestly I think he's just slacking. But don't get it twisted—"
Siakam lowered his voice.
"Gay only gets this lazy when the team doesn't need him to push. When it counts, he's fiercer than anyone. I've seen him play. His scoring ability is no joke."
"Derrick!"
Gay walked over, grinning.
"We're all getting up there. No need to play like you're risking your life. Take care of your body—playing a few extra years is worth more than anything."
Even Gay sounded a bit sentimental saying that.
"Funny how things change. Never thought we'd end up fighting side by side one day."
Then he discreetly signaled Rose.
"Kevin's off the floor now—go ahead and let loose."
Gay's words were like flipping a switch.
With the lead blown wide open and the young Timberwolves losing the will to chase, Malone didn't mind letting the guys free-flow a bit.
Rose drove first, shaking Wolves backup big man Gorgui Dieng for an easy layup. Then he caught a pass from Gay on the perimeter and buried a sudden three.
After the major injury, Rose's physical decline meant he could no longer explode at the rim like before. He shifted his scoring focus to threes and mid-range jumpers instead.
For him, that change was painful—giving up the weapon he once prided himself on, and strengthening what had been his weakness. For a player nearing thirty, it felt like cutting off a limb.
Last season with the Knicks, Rose shot only 21% from deep.
But tonight in Sacramento, everything felt smooth. Every outside shot seemed destined to fall.
"See?"
During the break, Gay nudged him.
"Scoring from the outside feels great, doesn't it? Why throw yourself into the paint?"
Gay had been chatting him up all night because Chen Yilun had asked him to. With his "God's Eyes," Chen Yilun knew too well that nearly all of Rose's later injuries came from getting knocked down on drives to the basket.
Adjusting Rose's mindset—getting him to stop trying to prove himself by recklessly attacking the rim—was now the team's top priority.
When the game ended, Rose's Sacramento debut was flawless: 21 points, 7 assists, 4 rebounds—an all-around performance.
Even more exciting was that Rose had nearly abandoned the terrifying, hyper-aggressive driving style of old. His game was more rational, more sustainable, and it left everyone looking forward to what he'd do next.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser