Chapter 199

The lineup list hit major New York media the next day, setting off a wave of debates.

Almost every local outlet in New York was convinced—the Knicks' championship defense was done for. With the Bulls' monstrous squad, the Knicks were in for a beatdown.

As usual, ESPN dropped its preseason championship odds rankings. The Bulls sat at 75%, the Jazz at 30%, and the Knicks at 25%.

These three teams were classified as the top tier—true contenders. Meanwhile, squads like the Pacers, Heat, and Lakers had championship odds below 15% and were placed in the second tier.

"What kinda bullshit ranking is this? We, the Rockets, don't even get a mention? Look at what the Knicks are working with—they're cooked! How the hell are they still in the first tier while we don't even crack the second?"

Charles Barkley, never one to hold back, went off when reporters asked for his thoughts.

A lot of media and fans actually agreed. The Knicks' roster looked weak compared to the Bulls, and many felt they had no business being in the top tier.

ESPN quickly adjusted their rankings. This time, they put the Bulls alone in Tier 1, the Knicks and Jazz in Tier 2, and teams like the Lakers and Heat in Tier 3.

"Man, get outta here! Since when are the Heat a third-tier team? What kinda disrespect is this?"

"Trash-ass rankings! If the Lakers are Tier 3, then ESPN should be ranked a Tier 3 sports network."

Heat and Lakers fans weren't having it. While their local media wasn't as powerful as New York's, they were just as loud. The backlash forced ESPN to make another adjustment.

Now, the Bulls were labeled a "super team" in their own special tier. The Knicks and Jazz were in Tier 1, while the Lakers and Heat were bumped up to Tier 2.

But the fans still weren't satisfied. Most believed the Knicks didn't deserve to be in Tier 1 at all.

This time, ESPN stood their ground. If they kept switching things up, their rankings would become a joke. Besides, as defending champs, the Knicks at least deserved a spot at the top—whether people liked it or not.

On the 28th, the Knicks held their media day, took team photos, and faced the press.

"Zhao Dong, Barkley and a bunch of analysts think the Knicks aren't elite anymore. What do you say to that?" Thomas, a team reporter, fired the first shot.

"No one thought we'd win it all last season. But what happened?" Zhao Dong smirked. "Don't worry about our squad. We're solid."

He wasn't just talking. He liked how the roster was shaping up.

During the draft, he didn't get involved. First, he wasn't really into scouting like that—he wasn't Jordan, obsessed with control. Second, he didn't need rookies who'd take years to develop. He needed guys who could hoop right now.

This season, just like last, was championship or bust. Rookies wouldn't cut it unless they were instant-impact stars like Tim Duncan.

With his knowledge of the future, he could've pushed for a couple of hidden gems or made trades for promising young players. But what then? Training them would take shots and touches away from him.

Look at Tracy McGrady—if you bring him in but don't let him take shots or run the offense, how's he supposed to grow? If he can't develop, what's the point?

Last season, Alan Houston's numbers dipped because Zhao Dong dominated the ball. He could already see Houston's future shifting—his career wouldn't be the same as it was originally meant to be.

If he gave new guys those opportunities, where were the shots and ball-handling chances coming from? Was he supposed to sacrifice his own game?

No way. If he wanted to be in the same conversation as Jordan—or even surpass him—he needed those scoring titles, MVPs, and all the accolades. And that meant keeping the ball in his hands.

Giving up his touches to develop rookies? Not happening. If the team didn't perform, even great individual stats wouldn't win him MVPs.

And even if those young players panned out, they'd demand big contracts on their second deals. If they weren't paid, they'd walk. If they got paid, it would mess with the team's cap space.

So Zhao Dong's philosophy was simple—no rookies, no superstar trades. The offense would revolve around him. The rest of the roster needed defensive dogs and rebounding machines like Ben Wallace, Reggie Fordson, and Charles Oakley. Throw in a few solid scorers who could average around 12-15 points, and that was enough.

"Give us your take on the Bulls' lineup." A New York Times reporter asked.

"Kidd makes it tricky. Jordan won't have to worry about running the offense—he can just go off. That's gonna be tough for our backcourt," Zhao Dong admitted.

"You only talked about the perimeter. Any thoughts on their big men?" the reporter pressed.

Zhao Dong grinned. "Ewing? Not much to say. I know exactly where he's at physically. He's not gonna be a problem for us."

"Because of injuries?"

"He's not young anymore. The wear and tear is catching up, and his decline is inevitable. But we brought in some strong bigs this season. We won't get bullied in the paint," Zhao Dong said confidently.

"So, Zhao Dong, what's your goal for this season?" asked a reporter from the New York Sports Daily.

"Back-to-back rings. What else?" Zhao Dong chuckled.

"With the season about to start, do you have any words for Jordan?" A Los Angeles Times reporter smirked.

"Mr. Jordan, sorry in advance—I'm handing you another L this season." Zhao Dong grinned.

"The league just introduced the restricted-area rule. What's your take on it?" another reporter asked.

"O'Neal better send the league a thank-you card," Zhao Dong laughed.

The reasonable collision zone is a rule that benefits the offense. It's a marked area under the basket where defenders have to jump straight up to contest a shot—anything else is a defensive foul.

For example, just standing there? That's a blocking foul. Even if an offensive player barrels into a defender in this zone, it's not an offensive foul unless they throw an elbow or make some wild, unnecessary move.

Shaquille O'Neal was the biggest winner of this rule. Once it was put in place, he could absolutely dominate the paint without worrying about offensive fouls.

But then, he was so unstoppable that the league had to step in. In the 2001-02 season, they brought in the defensive three-second rule and got rid of illegal defense to slow him down.

Did it work? Not really. O'Neal had already gotten used to constant double teams, so the rule changes didn't faze him much. It's like the Jordan Rules—once an all-time great adjusts, they just find another way to dominate.

The interview wrapped up after about an hour.

The next day in Chicago, the Bulls held their annual Media Day to kick off the new season. Even though their second dynasty had fallen short, they were still the league's biggest attraction—bigger even than the defending champs, the Knicks. The media swarmed the event.

Patrick Ewing was back after tearing his ACL. The Bulls' medical team said he'd lost a step but could still perform at a high level—at least good enough to be a legit two-way center. That alone was a luxury for Chicago. Even during their first three-peat, they never had a dominant big man.

"Michael, have you seen what Zhao Dong said about you?" a reporter asked.

"Yeah, that dude's straight-up delusional," Jordan said, visibly irritated.

"What do you think the Bulls' chances are against the Knicks this season?"

"We play them four times in the regular season, and I want all four wins." Jordan's expression was stone-cold.

"Patrick, Zhao Dong said the Knicks' frontcourt can handle the Bulls' bigs. Any thoughts on that?" another reporter asked.

"Who's supposed to handle me?" Ewing shot back. Then he smirked and added, "That undrafted guy he vouched for? Or that soft rookie Camby who folds at the slightest contact?"

"What's your goal when facing Zhao Dong?"

"Simple—beat his ass," Ewing said without hesitation.

Later that evening, Zhao Dong was watching their press conference on TV. He scoffed.

"One dude wants to sweep me, and the other wants to take me out? They think it's that easy?" he muttered.

He wasn't buying the hype about Ewing's recovery. No way the dude was back to his peak after an ACL tear.

If he had to guess, the Bulls were probably bluffing. In the regular season, Ewing would have to conserve energy, or he'd burn out before the playoffs. No way he'd be playing full-throttle every night.

"Zhao Dong, the Storm Fund is officially set up," Lindsay mentioned while slicing fruit.

Zhao Dong considered the financial chaos happening in Hong Kong. Right now, global investors were circling, waiting to strike. If he shorted Hong Kong's market, he'd make a fortune—but he wasn't about to cash in on a national crisis.

He knew the real battle would come in August next year, when the Hong Kong government would step up and fight back. That's when he'd jump in—help stabilize the market and make some money in the process.

"How's Japan and South Korea doing?" he asked.

"Japan's a mess. Hundreds of financial institutions collapsed just this month. More than 10,000 companies have shut down. Yesterday, Mrs. Dolores told me that Sanyo Securities—one of their top ten firms—and Hokkaido Development Bank are on the brink of bankruptcy."

"Should we keep shorting Japan?" Lindsay asked.

"What do you think?" Zhao Dong countered.

"As long as we move carefully, our funds will be safe, even if the Asian financial market doesn't recover until next year."

Zhao Dong nodded. "Alright, you handle it."

Lindsay grinned. "Got it."

"By the way, I've locked down the sneaker patents, and our R&D team has already made samples. We should be good to go on schedule," Zhao Dong said, leaning back with a smirk.

"That fast?" Lindsay asked, surprised.

She'd been swamped setting up the Storm Fund and hadn't been paying much attention to the sneaker business.

"Yeah. We're launching three tiers—pro, mid-range, and budget—so we hit every price point. I've got some special designs that I think will blow up. Plus, we're rolling out sportswear. The product line is stacked."

"Then we need to speed up opening overseas branches," Lindsay noted.

"Chen Jian is handling that. He's got a good head for business," Zhao Dong said.

November 1, 1997. The Knicks tipped off their season at home against the Jazz—the same team they battled in last season's Finals.

Old rivals, same stakes. The NBA knew exactly what they were doing with this schedule—it was built for drama.

The media had been hyping the game for days, and nobody gave the Knicks a shot. Losing Ewing had everyone doubting them.

Even Ewing himself was stirring the pot. Normally quiet, he had been way more vocal in interviews since joining the Bulls. It was like he was trying to prove something.

"Without an inside presence, the Knicks' perimeter game is dead in the water. The Jazz could easily win by 20-plus." That's what he said.

Even Jordan had something to say about this matchup. In a phone interview, he told the media, "Unless that dude Zhao Dong gets back in the low post and goes at Karl Malone, the Knicks' inside is getting cooked."

"You think Malone is gonna actively seek that matchup?" the reporter asked.

"Oh... I guess?" Jordan sounded hesitant. He still remembered that offseason beatdown where Karl got his ass handed to him by Zhao Dong. Honestly, he wasn't sure Malone even had the guts to go at him again.

The night before, Zhao Dong got his first assignment for the new season.

After months off, he was hyped to see it pop up.

Super Team Sniper Mission: Stop Jordan from rebuilding a dynasty and completely wreck his comeback dreams. 

Reward: One chance to fully recover from a major injury.

"..."

Zhao Dong felt uneasy. Was the system foreshadowing something?

Then, two more missions popped up.

Regular Season Individual Goals:

Stat King – 5 Skill Points DPOY – 5 Skill Points MVP – 10 Quality Points First Team – 10 Skill Points Double First Team (All-NBA & All-Defense) – 15 Skill Points 

Playoff Goals:

1.Defend the Title – 1 Limit-Breaking Quality Point 

Win Finals MVP – 10 Quality Points 

"Man, these rewards are weak compared to last season."

Zhao Dong exhaled, scanning the hints in the brackets. If he secured those two playoff rewards, there wouldn't be any more Quality Points or limit-break rewards in the future.

Five seconds later, the system dropped a fourth mission.

Team Sniper Mission: Beat the Jazz. 

Reward: 1 Quality Point + 1 Skill Point. If the Knicks win by 20+, the reward doubles.

"Bruh, that's it? Two Hall of Famers on the other side, and that's all I get? System, explain yourself."

"The host has already established a psychological advantage over Karl Malone and John Stockton. No need for a special sniper mission," the system replied.

"..."

Zhao Dong was stunned—then he burst out laughing.

The reward was still light, though. Compared to last season, it was clear the system had gone all-in just to stop Jordan. Now? Not so much.

He started wondering if there'd even be that many tasks this season.

November 1, 1997 – Season Opener at Madison Square Garden.

After months without NBA action, MSG was buzzing.

Over in the visiting locker room, Karl Malone suited up, leaning against his locker.

Physically? Dude was still a beast. After resting the offseason, his severe concussion had healed, and the doctors cleared him to play.

But right before tip-off, his mind flashed back to that boxing match.

He had thought his strength alone would be enough to take down Zhao Dong. But in reality... it was a damn nightmare.

Every time he remembered getting knocked out in under a round, his head started throbbing again.

"What the hell is wrong with him? He was fine back in Salt Lake, but now he looks like he's tweaking," Jerry Sloan muttered.

He had been watching Malone closely. Even on the flight over, something was off—zoned out, distracted, unfocused.

"Damn it, Zhao Dong really broke his spirit. No way—we gotta get Karl's confidence back."

Jerry Sloan looked at Malone, and for the first time, he felt like he didn't recognize his own star player.

Maybe he needed to bring in a sports psychologist.

The Jazz hadn't made many offseason moves. They were still a powerhouse squad.

Losing to a Knicks team without Ewing in the Finals had been brutal, but Sloan still believed in his squad.

Hell, even the Bulls weren't invincible. Outside of Shaq entering his prime, the other three elite centers were all aging. Ewing? He was a ticking time bomb for Chicago.

But this version of Malone? He wasn't leading the Jazz past anybody.

Sloan turned to Stockton, thinking of discussing some tactical adjustments—but the moment he looked, he froze.

"Wait... why does Stockton look shook too? Oh, hell no."

He expected Malone to have issues—it was natural after getting his ass kicked multiple times by Zhao Dong. But Stockton? He had never even fought the guy.

What Sloan didn't realize was that for years, Malone had been Stockton's rock. Seeing Karl get destroyed over and over again had messed with his head too. And now, stepping into MSG, knowing he had to face Zhao Dong again, that mental block came crashing down.

His psychological shadow exploded—just like Malone's.

Over in the Knicks' locker room, Zhao Dong was hyped.

This was the start of a new season, and he was ready to dominate.

"Yo, you see Malone?" Sprewell chuckled. "Dude looks like he's seen a ghost."

"Man, Stockton ain't any better. He looks like he's 'bout to puke," Oakley added.

Zhao Dong just grinned. "Psychological warfare, my guys. They already lost before the game even started."

The arena lights dimmed, and the PA announcer's voice boomed through MSG.

"Ladies and gentlemen... IT'S TIME FOR NEW YORK KNICKS BASKETBALL!"

The crowd erupted.

Marv Albert and Matt Goukas were on commentary.

"Matt, the Jazz had all offseason to recover from last year's Finals loss. What do you think we'll see from them tonight?" Marv asked.

"Well, Marv, I'd expect them to come out strong, but Malone's body language isn't great. He's got a tough mental hurdle to clear against Zhao Dong," Goukas replied.

Marv chimed in. "I spoke with Coach Sloan earlier, and he's concerned about the team's mindset. He knows they need a strong start to shake off any lingering doubts."

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