Speed, awareness, strength.
The comprehensiveness brought by [Death Wrap] far surpasses Han Sen's previous talent, [Star Catcher].
And there was no better environment to improve this defensive skill than his current training camp.
The players attending Han Sen's camp were notoriously bad at defense but undeniably elite on offense. To capitalize on this, Han Sen introduced a new segment this year: full-court challenges followed by one-on-one matchups.
Officially, it was to hone everyone's isolation skills. In reality, it allowed Han Sen to go head-to-head defensively against each attendee.
This wasn't just efficient; it was exponential improvement.
Meanwhile, news arrived from Yao Ming: The Basketball Association approved Han Sen's Foundation Program.
The men's national team was at rock bottom, and the association had no choice—they needed to show fans that action was being taken.
However, due to financial constraints, Yao Ming personally fronted the funds that were supposed to come from the association.
Predictable, really.
Maybe the association didn't want to invest in the first place, leaving Yao to dig into his own pockets.
Still, it didn't matter. If the plan succeeded, CBA owners would eventually fund it themselves.
The returns of NBA-trained players—both in performance and revenue—were already proven by Yi Jianlian and Wang Zhizhi.
Moreover, Han Sen could sense that Yao Ming's involvement in this project aligned with his broader ambition: climbing the ranks within the Basketball Association.
But that was Yao Ming's path.
For now, Han Sen was given a list of players for the program's first batch. The names were unfamiliar for the most part—an indication that not everyone was willing to leave their home country for a chance at the NBA.
But this wasn't necessarily bad. Han Sen had created the opportunity. If the program failed, the fans would see that he had made the effort.
On the brighter side, two familiar names stood out: Ding Yanyuhang and Zou Yuchen.
Dreamers have always stood apart, no matter the era.
...
End of August: Training Camp Wraps Up
Han Sen's Death Wrap hadn't hit its ceiling yet, but he felt it wouldn't take long.
In early September, Han Sen headed to China for his annual tour arranged by UA.
With the launch of the Foundation Program, Yao Ming promoted Han Sen extensively in China.
As a result, the turnout for his appearances rivaled—if not surpassed—the frenzy of the previous year.
UA organized joint events with CBA players, including those like Ding Yanyuhang who were part of Han Sen's program.
The enthusiasm of the fans moved Han Sen. After spotting many who couldn't get into the venue, he had his car stop outside. Opening the sunroof, he signed autographs for the crowd.
The scene became chaotic as fans threw shoes and jerseys toward him, some accidentally hitting him. Han Sen didn't mind, and by the end, he even took off his own T-shirt, signed it, and tossed it into the crowd.
Before leaving, he made time for group photos with the fans outside.
While the media often attempted to create division around him, they weren't wrong about one thing: his success owed a great deal to the support of his Chinese fanbase.
...
A Movie Cameo
Apart from events, Han Sen had another mission in China. While opportunities to cameo in Hollywood films hadn't materialized, Chris Rondo had connected him with domestic projects.
Han Sen chose one. He traveled to Yingtian for a short cameo shoot.
His role? A special forces soldier, simply walking past a tank and striking a pose.
No lines—his lack of acting experience made that a wise choice.
This cameo was more about buzz than substance. Han Sen picked the project knowing it would spark controversy, potentially earning him a wave of hater points.
The movie's name?
Wolf Warrior.
After wrapping up in China, Han Sen returned to Memphis, where his fourth and final season with the Grizzlies was about to begin.
Or, as he viewed it, the season he wanted to win the most.
...
Late September: Grizzlies Training Camp
The first day of camp revealed problems.
For the first time since Han Sen joined the Grizzlies, the opening day roster wasn't complete.
Starting players Rudy Gay and Marc Gasol were absent:
Gay had sprained his ankle during summer festivities, sidelining him until the regular season. Gasol, fatigued from the EuroBasket tournament, would join two days later.
Meanwhile, those who did show up weren't in top shape.
Zach Randolph, for instance, had gained noticeable weight, looking more like a basketball than a player. Others, like Kenneth Faried and Vince Carter, had also let themselves go.
The summer had been one of indulgence for most Grizzlies players.
This mirrored problems the Lakers once faced—issues Han Sen had hoped Memphis would avoid.
While Han Sen's pursuit of a dynasty echoed Kobe Bryant's drive, for many teammates, two championships were more than enough.
By the end of the first day, Coach Joerger tried to rally the team, but the response was lukewarm.
After practice, Han Sen stayed behind, reflecting in the empty gym.
He realized that no matter how much he gave, it might all be for nothing—just like Kobe's battles post-Shaq.
...
The next day's practice was no better. During a fast break, Han Sen delivered a perfect assist, only for Kenneth Faried to fumble it due to lack of focus.
Before Faried could laugh it off, Han Sen called an immediate stop.
"Catch the damn ball. If you drop another one, you're out."
The gym fell silent. Faried's grin disappeared, and teammates exchanged uneasy glances.
"Is Han always this intense?" rookie Rashard Lewis whispered to Robert Sacre.
Sacre shook his head. This was a side of Han he had never seen.
Throughout the session, Han Sen's intensity remained unmatched. He berated players for defensive lapses and raised the physicality of the scrimmages to near-regular season levels.
Initially, players thought he was having an off day. But as his demeanor persisted, tensions began to boil over.
The breaking point came when Han Sen benched Faried for another error.
Faried, known for his fiery temperament, stormed off the court, grabbed the towel from his chair, and threw it to the ground in frustration, his displeasure obvious.
At that moment, Han addressed the entire team:
"If I'm not doing my job, feel free to call me out the same way. But if it's you who isn't delivering, unless you can beat me, sit your ass down and stay quiet."
After Han Sen's words, everyone realized this season would be different.
The shift was uncomfortable, but no one dared to speak up. After all, the Grizzlies' past success was built on Han Sen's back. His message was crystal clear—he wasn't bullying anyone; he was leading by example and even laid out terms.
But really, who could beat Han?
Following this brief confrontation, the intensity of the Grizzlies' practices noticeably improved. The cost, however, was a growing distance between Han Sen and his teammates off the court.
Han Sen didn't seem to care. Or rather, he had already prepared himself for this when he decided to set a new tone.
As practice wrapped up, Han Sen caught Faried before he could leave.
"Kenneth, walk with me," Han said casually, tossing a towel over his shoulder.
This left the rest of the team exchanging puzzled glances.
Faried himself was uneasy. While Han Sen had once approached him with reason and empathy, if Han decided to get heavy-handed now, there wasn't much he could do.
They didn't head to the locker room but to Han's car. A short drive later, they pulled up to a mall.
"Pick something," Han said, gesturing toward the display case in a jewelry store.
Faried hesitated. "What do you mean, 'pick something'?"
"Chain, watch, whatever catches your eye. It's on me."
Still confused but not about to argue, Faried chose a thick gold chain that cost $30,000. He kept waiting for the catch as Han casually swiped his card and handed him the bag.
On the way back to the car, Faried finally asked, "Alright, what's this about?"
Han didn't look over, eyes fixed on the road. "You've got an extension coming up next season. If you don't show urgency now, you'll blow it. I need you locked in, Kenneth. You're better than what you've been giving us."
Han Sen knew he'd leave Memphis in a year, a fact only he and the front office were aware of. He couldn't share this with his teammates—doing so would shatter team morale.
Faried sat back in silence, clutching the bag in his lap. He suddenly felt embarrassed. He had two rings and had started to coast, forgetting he was still on a rookie deal.
Han wasn't trying to break him down—he was trying to build him up.
When they returned, Faried muttered, "Thanks, man."
Han glanced over briefly and smirked. "Show me I didn't waste my money."
...
Thanks to Han Sen's strict leadership and leading by example, the Grizzlies' training camp started slow but ended with a level of intensity even greater than previous years.
Still, challenges loomed for the team.
Rudy Gay was sidelined for the season opener against the Heat due to an ankle injury, while Chauncey Billups was dealing with lingering health issues, leaving the team with only Delonte West as a backup point guard.
And no one could yet predict how the new 'vertical leap rule' would impact the Grizzlies' interior defense.
The preseason offered a glimpse of the struggles ahead. The Grizzlies played seven games, losing two—a rare dip for a team of their caliber.
As the regular season approached, Stan released his annual team power rankings.
For the second consecutive year, the Heat claimed the top spot.
Although the Heat lost to the Grizzlies in last season's Finals, many attributed that to the toll of the regular season on Miami. This year, they were expected to adjust. Moreover, the new rules favoring perimeter play would likely benefit their offensive style.
Additionally, Kevin Durant displayed improved playmaking abilities during limited preseason minutes, evidence of a productive offseason, even without hosting a training camp like Han Sen.
The Grizzlies, as reigning two-time champions, were ranked second.
Stan expressed significant concerns, noting that the new rules would undoubtedly impact the team's post-heavy style. Additionally, the Grizzlies' bench depth seemed to be weakening.
"They have a shot at building a dynasty, but how much of a shot is anyone's guess."
On October 30th, the Grizzlies hosted the Heat for the season opener.
As a continuation of last year's Finals showdown, the game drew massive attention. FedExForum was packed to capacity.
Before tip-off, the team held its championship ring ceremony.
As fans admired the sparkling rings displayed at center court, the energy in the arena reached a fever pitch. For Memphis fans, this level of dominance—a feeling once exclusive to Bulls or Lakers fans—was intoxicating.
For the Grizzlies players, it was even sweeter.
Vince Carter's face betrayed his excitement. After years of struggle, he had found success late in his career.
Sometimes, he thought, the right choice beats sheer effort.
Robert Sacre, meanwhile, couldn't contain his excitement, rubbing his hands together incessantly. Memories of last year's ceremony flashed through his mind—how he had only gotten to hold Han Sen's ring. Now, he'd finally have his own.
In a humorous twist, when he noticed Rashard Lewis wearing a similar look of longing, Sacre turned and echoed the words he'd heard last year:
"Don't worry. This time next year, you'll have one too."
Lewis paused before laughing. His gaze at the rings grew even more determined.
Among the Grizzlies' new additions, Lewis was the most motivated—not just because he'd never won a championship, but because he had defected from the Heat. He wasn't about to follow Grant Hill's footsteps as a 'turncoat' who became a 'ringless wonder.'
The ceremony was simpler than last year's, focusing on distributing rings.
As team leader, Han Sen had the chance to address the crowd.
He stepped to the microphone, the last ring glittering on his finger. He paused, letting the cheers die down before scanning the crowd with an intense gaze.
"Two years ago, they said we weren't built for this. Last year, they said it was a fluke. So let me make something clear—this isn't a moment. This is a dynasty in the making."
The crowd exploded in cheers.
Han's voice dropped a notch, his tone razor-sharp. "We've written two chapters, but the story's far from over. Tonight, we start chapter three. Let's show them how legends are made."
The arena erupted, the sound nearly shaking the rafters as Han turned and joined his teammates on the sideline.
After the ceremony, the starting lineups were announced.
Heat: Mario Chalmers, Dwyane Wade, Kevin Durant, Chris Bosh, Kendrick Perkins
Grizzlies: Mike Conley, Han Sen, Shane Battier, Zach Randolph, Marc Gasol
Despite Gay's absence, the matchup seemed like a continuation of last year's Finals.
However, as both starting fives took the court, Wade noticed something different.
Han Sen's expression was more intense than he'd ever seen before—like he was ready to kill.