2015 NBA Free Agency Madness.

The following day, Han Sen arrived at the Cavaliers' locker room, dressed in his training gear, and noticed Jokic wasn't there yet.

Just as he suspected Jokic had overslept, the big man walked in—right on time, but barely.

Today, besides Cunningham, there was another familiar face in the training facility—Tim Grover.

Han Sen had called Grover the previous day, and the legendary trainer flew in first thing in the morning.

While Han Sen and Cunningham continued with their training routines, Jokic was handed off to Grover for an evaluation.

During a break, Han Sen took a moment to glance at the other side of the court, where Grover was working Jokic hard.

What surprised Han Sen was how diligently Jokic was training.

Gone was the lazy, nonchalant attitude he'd seen before.

Jokic now looked like a man on a mission.

Han Sen chuckled to himself—this guy reminded him of his own younger self: someone who didn't want to work but had to grind hard to survive.

While things were running smoothly in Cleveland's training facility, the NBA free agency period officially opened on July 1, 2015, and the league wasted no time in delivering bombshell news.

The first shockwave?

Pat Riley announced that Erik Spoelstra would step down as head coach to become the Heat's assistant general manager.

And then came the stunner—Pat Riley himself was returning to the sidelines to coach the Heat!

But Riley wasn't done yet.

In his signature no-nonsense style, he dropped a fiery statement:

"If I can't lead the Heat to a championship, I'll retire for good—and I'll hang Han Sen's No. 77 jersey in the rafters of the American Airlines Arena."

This wasn't the usual calculated Riley.

This was an emotional, desperate move.

Why? The Heat were on the verge of collapse.

Had they lost to the Warriors in the Finals, they could've given it one more shot.

Durant still had one year left on his contract—an option year, but he likely would've returned to try again.

But losing to the Cavaliers in the Eastern Conference Finals changed everything.

Durant might opt out. Wade might walk.

Dragic and Vucevic's rookie deals had expired.

The Heat were staring down the barrel of total disintegration.

If that happened, Riley's legacy would be cemented as a failure—four Finals appearances, one ring, and nothing to show for it.

So Riley made his move.

This wasn't 2006, when he swooped in to grab the glory from Stan Van Gundy.

This time, he wasn't stealing the spotlight—he was trying to save the franchise.

And that bold statement about retiring and raising Han's jersey to the rafters?

It was less about respect and more about lighting a fire under his players.

Translation: "You guys really want this dude's jersey hanging here? You're just gonna roll over and accept that?"

Riley's league-wide clout soon became evident.

Both Durant and Wade announced they would opt in for one more year, effectively doubling down for another run.

The Heat then secured Goran Dragic on a five-year, $86 million deal.

With the salary cap increasing from $63 million to $70 million, the luxury tax hit wasn't as bad as expected.

However, this meant they couldn't afford to keep Nikola Vucevic, who signed a four-year, $54 million deal with the Portland Trail Blazers.

The Blazers, meanwhile, were looking to fill the void left by LaMarcus Aldridge, who signed a four-year, $84.1 million deal with the Spurs.

Just when it seemed like the Heat were cooling off, Riley pulled another rabbit out of his hat.

He convinced David West to sign a veteran minimum contract with Miami.

The 34-year-old West, who had just declined a $12 million player option with the Pacers, left everyone stunned.

Why would a player give up that kind of money?

West's response on social media was short and sweet:

"Everything for the ring."

Fans were floored. The Heat, already stacked, were now even scarier.

"When you thought they couldn't get any stronger, they just did."

The Heat were now fully loaded for a win-or-bust season.

If titles were handed out based on roster strength alone, Miami would already have their rings.

But just when fans thought the summer drama was over, the Lakers stole the spotlight.

LeBron James opted out of his deal, and with Anderson Varejao's contract expiring, the Lakers had massive cap space.

Enter Kevin Love.

Love opted out of his player option with the Timberwolves and agreed to a five-year, $113 million sign-and-trade deal with the Lakers.

In return, the Wolves received three future first-round picks and some filler contracts.

Love was coming off a season where he averaged 25.4 points, 12.2 rebounds, and 4.1 assists with a 37.3% three-point shooting percentage.

And this wasn't just any Kevin Love—this was fully evolved Kevin Love, with refined passing skills and deadly range.

The shocking part?

The Wolves never wanted to part with him.

But Nike pulled the strings, and Love's desire to win a title sealed the deal.

With LeBron, Kobe, and Love, the Lakers had formed a Super Team.

LeBron then re-signed another 1+1 contract, maintaining flexibility while the Lakers kept their frontcourt depth intact.

Suddenly, the Lakers' big man rotation became the deepest in the league.

Social media exploded with fans clowning David West, telling him he joined the wrong super team.

...

Han Sen learned about Love's move to LA after finishing practice.

Griffin, grinning ear to ear, broke the news.

Han was surprised, but not shocked.

Kobe was aging, and the Lakers—along with Nike—had to seize this opportunity.

'They've gone all in,' Han thought. 'But not everyone's Elon Musk. This gamble could backfire hard.'

Even if the Lakers made the Finals, they still had to get past the Warriors in the West.

And Han knew something others didn't—next season was Curry's true breakout year.

Still, with two Western Conference superteams (Warriors and Lakers) and one Eastern Conference juggernaut (Heat), the 2015-16 season was shaping up to be legendary.

Whoever won that title wouldn't just be champions.

They'd be immortalized.

And for Han Sen?

Only that kind of title was worthy of Cleveland's first-ever championship.

Seeing Han Sen's calm demeanor, Griffin relaxed. After all, Han had stunned the world by beating the Heat last season.

If Han said there was nothing to worry about, then Griffin was inclined to believe him.

While Han resumed his training, Griffin gave him a quick rundown of the Cavaliers' summer moves.

The Cavs' primary goal for the offseason was straightforward: retain their core roster and make targeted signings to strengthen their rotation.

Naturally, J.R. Smith and Tristan Thompson were top priorities for re-signing. Both had played pivotal roles in the Cavaliers' playoff run against the Heat.

J.R., known for his erratic performances throughout his career, had found stability playing alongside Han. Meanwhile, Thompson had taken significant strides under the mentorship of Kevin Garnett.

However, their contract situations were quite different.

J.R. Smith tested the free-agent market after declining his $6 million player option. But to his shock, he couldn't secure a better deal elsewhere.

On paper, his playoff performance warranted an $8-9 million annual contract. But the reality was harsher—most GMs couldn't trust him just yet.

"You've been unpredictable for years," they seemed to say. "One good season doesn't erase all that."

In the end, the Cavs got a bargain: a two-year, $12 million deal with a player option for the second year.

Thompson, however, came in swinging for the fences. He demanded a five-year, $80 million contract.

Griffin glanced at Han, hoping for input, but Han waved it off.

"That's your job. Don't worry about me."

Han wasn't about to meddle in contract negotiations—especially not when the asking price was clearly inflated. Unlike the Conley extension back in Memphis, this one wasn't based on fair market value.

Griffin only needed Han's blessing to proceed. Given that no other team had made an offer for Thompson yet, the Cavs could afford to play the waiting game.

The Cavs also re-signed key veterans Mo Williams and Kevin Garnett.

Both players were hungry for redemption after falling short in the Finals.

And to bolster their bench, Cleveland signed Mike Dunleavy to a three-year, $14.4 million contract.

Han was surprised by the addition. Dunleavy had been a starter for the Bulls, but in Cleveland, he'd be relegated to a bench role.

Griffin's reasoning was simple: "He joined us because of you. In fact, several other players wanted to come here too, but we just don't have the cap space."

Han wasn't shocked. His performances had been nothing short of dominant, especially in the playoffs. It was only natural that players—especially those who had faced him firsthand—would want to join forces.

Han had played against Dunleavy during his time with the Grizzlies. Dunleavy was the prototypical high-IQ player—limited athleticism, but excellent off-ball movement and spacing. He was a plug-and-play guy, and his addition would solidify the Cavs' bench.

One of the reasons for signing Dunleavy was the impending departure of James Johnson.

Johnson had broken into the Cavs' rotation during the regular season but saw his minutes dwindle in the playoffs.

Like Rudy Gay, Johnson valued playing time and financial security over another ring.

The Raptors offered him both.

Han fully supported Johnson's decision. He understood the importance of career planning—just like how Charles Oakley had left Jordan's Bulls to find a better fit with the Knicks.

Players had to prioritize their own futures.

There had also been an attempt to recruit Paul Pierce.

Garnett tried to convince his former Celtics teammate to join Cleveland. But Pierce, ever the stubborn Han hater, chose loyalty to Boston instead, signing a three-year, $10.5 million deal with the Celtics.

As free agency neared its conclusion, Han began preparing for his annual summer training camp.

But before the camp kicked off, Kyrie Irving showed up at the practice facility earlier than expected.

His recovery had taken longer than anticipated, but he was finally back to full strength.

---

The moment Kyrie saw Han, he strode over with fierce determination.

"Help me get stronger!"

Jokic, who was working with Grover, froze mid-drill. He glanced at Kyrie with a confused expression, as if to say:

Bro, chill. It's just work. Why so serious?

Even Han was taken aback by Kyrie's intensity. But he could see it in Kyrie's eyes—this wasn't just about getting back into shape.

Kyrie had been thinking a lot during his time off.

The biggest thought lingering in his mind?

I missed out on my first championship.

That realization was exactly what Han had been waiting for.

Kyrie's renewed determination was a good sign for the Cavs.

With limited cap space and few roster changes, the team's best shot at improving was through internal development.

And Kyrie had two areas that needed major improvement.

First: Playmaking.

Kyrie wasn't expected to become a Chris Paul-type of point guard, but he needed to show more willingness to distribute the ball.

The Cavs had given him a pass last season to focus on scoring. But this season, Han knew they'd need Kyrie to step up as a facilitator.

Second: Defense.

Right now, Kyrie's defense was a glaring liability.

During the Heat series, Dragic had repeatedly blown past him with ease.

Kyrie didn't need to become a lockdown defender. But with his current baseline being so low, there was plenty of room for improvement.

Even reaching average defensive standards would make a huge difference.

If Kyrie could improve in both areas, he wouldn't just be an All-Star. He'd be in the conversation for an All-NBA team spot.

For now, Han was optimistic.

If Kyrie truly committed to these changes, the Cavs' chances against the Heat, Lakers, and Warriors would significantly improve.

It wouldn't be easy. But then again, Han Sen had never been one to shy away from a challenge.

-End of Chapter-