LeBron Finally Delivered.

The Lakers fans in attendance couldn't fully grasp the weight of Han Sen's words.

But inside Quicken Loans Arena—and in living rooms across Cleveland—fans were in tears.

This wasn't just a championship.

It was like reuniting with a long-lost love after years of heartbreak.

After the trophy presentation, Han Sen and Kyrie Irving headed to the final press conference of the season.

The room was packed.

This wasn't just another championship—it was a story for the ages.

And naturally, all eyes were on Han.

The first question came from a Los Angeles reporter.

"Han, have you spoken to Kobe? Do you have any thoughts on his injury?"

That's when Han learned the full extent of it.

A torn Achilles.

As a transmigrator, hearing it hit differently.

In the original timeline, Kobe suffered this injury in 2013—but now, it had become the final chapter of his career.

Inevitable. Almost poetic.

And if Kobe had to choose between this or a meaningless 60-point farewell game?

There was no doubt.

Han exhaled, his voice steady.

"I wish him a speedy recovery. Retirement isn't the end—it's the start of something new."

Another question followed.

"You've delivered Cleveland's first championship. Is your next goal to build a dynasty, like you did in Memphis?"

Han smirked.

"Why not?"

Winning was great.

But he hadn't even had the chance to get his revenge on the Warriors yet.

Then came a more unexpected one.

"This is the second time you've brought a franchise its first title. Some fans are calling you 'The Dream Maker.' How do you feel about that?"

Han paused, caught off guard.

Then, he let out a laugh.

"I like that. I hope everyone gets to see their dreams come true."

---

After the press conference, Han made his way to the hospital.

To see Kobe.

What he had said at the podium? He meant it.

Some rivalries went beyond the court.

And a man who fought until his last breath—deserved his respect.

Kobe hadn't expected the visit.

Their conversations had always been laced with competition, sarcasm, and mind games.

And deep down, he hated that he didn't get to face Han until the final buzzer.

But as they talked, Kobe felt the shift.

The fight was over.

The regret? The frustration?

Gone.

He had left everything on the court.

Kobe leaned back against the hospital bed, a slight smirk forming.

"You still got room to improve defensively."

Even now, still teaching the game.

Han chuckled.

"Yeah? Any tips?"

Kobe folded his arms.

"Gary Payton told me something back in the day. 'Move your puppies.'"

Han raised a brow.

"Move my what?"

Kobe laughed, shaking his head.

"That's what I said too. He meant your feet—slide, don't run. Make yourself thin, slip through screens like paper going through a door. That's how I made my first All-Defensive Team."

Han nodded, letting it sink in.

He had heard the phrase before—maybe in an old interview, or a clip floating around online.

But hearing it directly from Kobe, right now?

It hit different.

Talent had limits.

Skill didn't.

---

The next morning, the Cavaliers boarded a flight back to Cleveland.

When they arrived at the gate, they were met with a scene unlike anything they'd ever seen.

A sea of fans—tens of thousands—had flooded the airport, making it nearly impossible to move.

Over 40,000 people had gathered.

Chanting.

Cheering.

It felt less like a team returning home and more like a presidential motorcade arriving.

And the moment Han Sen stepped out?

The crowd erupted into sheer madness.

But then came the chant.

"EMPEROR! EMPEROR!"

Han tensed.

He had never liked the nickname.

But in this moment? He couldn't stop them. Wouldn't stop them.

This wasn't the time to be stubborn about it.

He just smiled and soaked it in.

Even Cleveland's mayor had shown up, eager to shake hands and share a few words.

Bringing a championship to this city wasn't just a basketball achievement.

It had massive economic and cultural implications.

And as the mayor spoke about potential business partnerships and expansion with East Asia, Han realized—

This wasn't just a team victory.

This was a city-changing moment.

Even Akron, LeBron's true hometown, would reap the benefits of what Han had done.

Who said he wasn't the Emperor?

---

That night, Han threw a massive pool party at his estate.

The entire team was invited.

And, of course, Chris Rondo had arranged for some… extra entertainment.

For his teammates?

This was better than any gift he could have given them.

Han sat by the pool, drink in hand, enjoying the view while discussing business with David Griffin and Michael Malone.

They talked about championship bonuses.

The upcoming championship parade.

And most importantly—the NBA Draft.

Cleveland's title run had been impossible without Nikola Jokić.

Without him, they never would've gotten past Miami.

So Griffin's trust in Han's scouting instincts?

It had reached an all-time high.

When Han saw the draft board, he immediately leaned forward.

This class?

Stacked.

Cleveland had the 25th pick.

And somehow, late first-round talent still looked like gold.

Pascal Siakam.

Dejounte Murray.

Ivica Zubac.

Malcolm Brogdon.

Any of them would be a steal.

Han's first pick?

Brogdon.

His athleticism wasn't eye-popping, but the guy was NBA-ready. A strong two-way guard.

Jokić was a rare case. Most young players needed time to develop.

But Brogdon?

He could contribute right away.

Especially with the roster changes coming.

Kevin Garnett was likely retiring.

Dante Cunningham, J.R. Smith, Mo Williams, and Delonte West? All free agents.

Cleveland was about to undergo a massive retooling.

And then Han noticed something else.

The undrafted pool.

Names he recognized.

Fred VanVleet.

Alex Caruso.

Gary Payton II.

Derrick Jones Jr.

This?

This was a goldmine.

Han listed all of them for Griffin.

Now, it was up to him to make the moves.

After all, Han wasn't a GM—just a guy with a cheat code for scouting.

Once the basketball talk wrapped up, Griffin and Malone left Han to enjoy the party.

He was about to get up when Anjali Ranadive stopped him.

Han raised an eyebrow, half-expecting a jealous interrogation.

Instead?

She had a draft request of her own.

Anjali never really involved herself in her father's team.

But the Kings had been a disaster for years.

Seeing how much faith Griffin had in Han's eye for talent?

She wanted some advice too.

Han laughed.

But he didn't turn her down.

It wasn't like giving a few draft tips would cost him anything.

And besides—

Sacramento needed all the help they could get.

---

A few days later, the Cavaliers held their championship parade in Cleveland.

The city had never seen anything like it.

Every street along the parade route was packed, completely shut down by the sheer volume of people.

This wasn't just the biggest moment in Cleveland sports history—it was the city's biggest celebration of the century.

Cleveland's population sat at around 390,000.

The estimated attendance for the parade was 500,000.

But when the day arrived?

Over 1.2 million people flooded the streets.

Fans who couldn't be there for the championship win made sure they wouldn't miss this.

Quicken Loans Arena, the parade's starting point, had been surrounded by fans camping out since the night before.

The streets were so packed that police had to be called in to clear a path.

Even then, the parade—originally scheduled for 11 AM—was delayed by four hours.

The Cavaliers didn't hold back, either.

Instead of the typical bus setup, the team went all out.

Over 60 vehicles.

One for each player.

Han Sen and Anjali Ranadive shared a convertible.

Sunglasses on, an unlit cigar in his mouth, Han lounged in the back seat, dressed in a UA-branded T-shirt, riding in a custom BYD convertible.

But soon, their car couldn't move.

The crowd had swarmed the vehicles, completely blocking the path forward.

Fans were everywhere.

On rooftops.

Hanging from tree branches.

Climbing light poles, waving Cavaliers flags.

Some were even wedged into the cracks of building walls, risking it all for the perfect shot.

Han had seen passionate crowds before, especially back in China.

But this?

This was a different level.

Cleveland was different.

These fans weren't just celebrating a championship—they were celebrating the end of decades of heartbreak.

Han was so moved he pulled out his phone, recording the madness around him.

Then he spotted something ahead.

Kyrie Irving had hopped out of his car and started dancing in the street, pulling out his signature Native American dance.

J.R. Smith?

Shirtless.

Fully tatted.

Standing on top of a pickup truck, soaking in the cheers.

Han suddenly remembered—J.R. had shown up shirtless.

He might have been shirtless the entire parade.

Behind him, the roar of the crowd got even louder.

Kevin Garnett had stood up, pounding his chest, letting out a series of primal roars.

The energy was contagious.

Han let out a small laugh, finally biting down on his cigar.

Then, with a smirk, he climbed onto the back of his car, spread his arms wide, and embraced the crowd like a king acknowledging his empire.

---

Cleveland wasn't a big city.

But it wasn't until the evening that the Cavaliers finally completed the parade, returning to the stage set up outside Quicken Loans Arena.

From the stage, the view was surreal.

A sea of people stretched endlessly in every direction.

For once, Cleveland's lack of skyscrapers was an advantage—because now, it was nothing but a wall of fans as far as the eye could see.

Michael Malone was the main speaker of the event.

He went down the line, highlighting each player's impact on the championship run, sharing stories from the season.

And in doing so, he revealed the real reason this Cavaliers team had succeeded.

The difference between this team and past Cavaliers squads?

There were no entitled superstars.

No one was above the team.

Even Han Sen—despite being the face of the franchise—never treated rookies as if they were beneath him.

He helped them.

Norman Powell was the best example of that.

Then, when Malone got to the Lakers series, his energy shifted.

For Han, the toughest battle had been the Eastern Conference Finals against Miami.

But for Malone?

Beating the Lakers meant everything.

And as his speech reached its climax, he couldn't hold back.

He grabbed the mic, smirked, and shouted:

"WHO IS YOUR DADDY!"

The crowd lost its mind.

A wave of pure hysteria swept through the city.

Instantly, fans were transported back to the moment Han had jumped onto the scorer's table in Boston years ago.

Even Han had to laugh.

He already knew.

By the end of the night, this line would be permanently attached to LeBron James.

---

After Malone finished, the event moved into a Q&A session.

Han, unsurprisingly, got the most questions.

And he made sure to use the moment to praise his teammates.

Not just Kyrie or Jokić—the stars.

But also the role players who barely saw the court.

Then, inevitably, a fan brought up LeBron James.

It was unavoidable.

With all the former Cavaliers on this team, comparisons to LeBron's era were constant.

And when you put the two teams side by side?

On paper, LeBron's teams had been stronger.

Yet Han's Cavaliers were the ones holding the trophy.

LeBron's name had no place in this celebration.

But since someone asked, Han simply smiled.

"LeBron kept his promise."

The crowd stirred, confused.

Fans exchanged glances.

What was he talking about?

Han let the moment linger before clarifying.

"When he was here, LeBron said he'd bring a championship to Cleveland. All these years later… he finally did."

Silence.

Then?

It clicked.

And the entire place erupted into laughter.

Because it was true.

Without LeBron and the Lakers, the Cavaliers would've faced the 73-9 Warriors in the Finals.

And who knew how that would've gone?

LeBron had, intentionally or not, cleared the path for Cleveland's first championship.

A Cavalier at heart.

Loyal in the strangest way possible.

Who said LeBron wasn't the real King of Cleveland?

---

Over on ESPN, First Take is in full meltdown mode.

Skip Bayless is grinning like a man who just won the lottery.

Stephen A. Smith? Visibly fuming.

And poor Molly Qerim? Just trying to keep the show from going off the rails.

The debate?

Han Sen vs. LeBron James in Cleveland's legacy.

Skip Bayless (slamming the table):

"I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR YEARS! Han Sen has done what LeBron James NEVER could—bring a championship to Cleveland with his OWN two hands! No superteam. No excuses. Just greatness!"

Stephen A. Smith (throwing up his hands):

"SKIP! Stop. STOP. I'm NOT gonna sit here and let you blaspheme this man, LeBron James! This is downright disrespectful! The man CARRIED that franchise! He took them to the Finals with—"

Skip Bayless (cutting him off, shaking his head):

"Carried?! He had Kobe Bryant! He had Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh! He had Kevin Love! And what did he do? NOTHING! Meanwhile, Han Sen walks in and in TWO YEARS? Championship banner. Legacy secured!"

Stephen A. Smith (leaning in, deadly serious):

"You trippin', Skip. You TRIPPIN'. First of all, Kyrie Irving is a STAR. Nikola Jokić? Gonna be a PROBLEM for the next decade. Han had HELP."

Skip Bayless (grinning, eyes locked on Stephen A.):

"Then why couldn't LeBron do it?"

Stephen A. Smith (blinking rapidly, speechless for a moment):

"…That's not the point!"

Skip Bayless (laughing, clapping his hands):

"THAT'S EXACTLY THE POINT!"

Molly Qerim (cutting in, desperate to maintain order):

"Okay, okay, let's focus here. Does this championship change Han Sen's legacy? Has he OFFICIALLY surpassed LeBron's impact in Cleveland?"

Skip Bayless (nodding, calm but smug):

"Yes. And I'll tell you why. When LeBron left, Cleveland burned his jersey. When Han Sen arrived, they built statues in their hearts. You tell me who's the real king."

Stephen A. Smith (rubbing his temples, exasperated):

"I need a vacation."

[The segment fades out with dramatic shots of Han Sen lifting the trophy, Cleveland fans chanting his name, and a devastated LeBron sitting in his locker, staring into the distance.]

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