"Ha ha!"
Zhao Dong let out a wild laugh, feeling like he just crawled outta hell and landed in heaven.
If he had missed that shot, the Hakeem mission would've gone up in flames, and if the game had gone into OT with them losing, the team's sniper mission would've failed too. That would've been two L's in a row.
But now? He had three mission rewards in the bag, ready to level himself up before going head-to-head with Jordan in two days.
"Foul! He pulled someone!" Barkley yelled at the ref, refusing to take the L.
The ref shook his head. "Last play. Players decide the game. No call."
"Yo, come here, fellas! Mr. Round Mound is about to honor his bet!" Zhao Dong shouted.
"Oh, here we go..." The Knicks players swarmed in, grinning.
Barkley's face was red as hell, fists clenched so tight he was about to pop a vein. The media knew about the bet, so every camera in the building zoomed in on him.
"So, Mr. Barkley, what's my name?" Zhao Dong smirked.
Barkley's chest was rising and falling, dude was breathing like a damn bull, eyes about to pop outta his head.
Zhao Dong's voice turned cold. "Barkley, you're a superstar, but you forced this bet on me, thinking you'd win. Now do it. Say it. I'm waiting."
"Barkley, c'mon, man, we got the Spurs tomorrow. We ain't got all night!" Oakley laughed.
"Yeah, Barkley, time to pay up. Just get it over with," Ewing added.
"Hey, Zhao Dong, how about we work something else out?" Hakeem stepped in, trying to cool things down.
"Work what out?"
Zhao Dong's voice was sharp. "Nobody had a problem when we made the bet, but now that it's time to cash in, y'all wanna change the rules? Nah, I don't think so. Or are you saying Barkley's gonna run from his debt?"
"So what if I am?" Barkley barked, his fist shaking. "What you gonna do about it?"
"Haha, Barkley, there's like fifty cameras on you. You really gonna run from this?" Oakley called him out.
Barkley glanced around at the reporters, the constant camera flashes giving him a headache.
Meanwhile, Rudy Tomjanovich walked up to Jeff Van Gundy and said, "Jeff, talk to Zhao Dong, man. We're all players. This kinda thing can burn bridges. It'll make it tough for him in the league."
Van Gundy nodded. "I'll try, but no promises."
"That's all I ask. Appreciate it. I'll owe you dinner." Rudy sighed in relief.
Back on the court, Hakeem spoke up again. "Zhao Dong, you're forgetting something. When you made the bet, you only asked him to say it once. You can't make him say it twice, that ain't fair."
Zhao Dong froze for a second. Wait—what kinda math was that?
"Zhao Dong, don't push it," Van Gundy said, stepping between them. "Barkley's just got a big mouth. If we had lost, he wouldn't have forced you, right?"
Van Gundy shot Barkley a look, basically handing him an out.
Barkley huffed, but finally nodded.
"Yeah, yeah," Clyde Drexler chimed in, "Barkley just wanted to mess with Zhao Dong, teach him a little lesson. He wouldn't have made him follow through if it went the other way. Right, Charles?"
Hakeem nudged Barkley, who clenched his jaw but gave a stiff nod.
"Hmph! Let's go."
Zhao Dong snorted. If he had lost, he wouldn't have done that shit either. Since Barkley backed down, he let it slide.
"Zhao Dong! Interview time!"
The media swarmed him. He couldn't dodge.
Tonight, he logged 38 minutes, shot 12-of-20, 10-of-13 from the line, nailed a three, and dropped 35 points, 10 rebounds, 2 assists, 2 steals, 4 blocks, just 1 turnover, and 4 fouls. Straight-up Player of the Game numbers.
Barkley had a solid night too, especially in the second half when Zhao Dong had trouble locking him down. He shot 10-of-18, 4-of-6 from the stripe, finishing with 24 points, 12 boards.
Before tonight, Zhao Dong didn't even think about completing all three missions. He just wanted to take care of the Hakeem Team's task, but Barkley's relentless pressure actually pushed him to break through.
"Zhao Dong, Hakeem said Barkley already called you once. Did he really call you daddy?" a reporter asked.
"Oh, I'm not answering that," Zhao Dong smirked. "No need to keep talking about it. Next question."
The last thing he wanted was for the media to milk this into some crazy Barkley humiliation story. No need to give them that kind of ammo.
"Zhao Dong, was your early celebration planned? Specifically for Barkley?"
"Nah, that wasn't just for him," Zhao Dong shook his head. "That's for every opponent."
The reporters gasped.
"So you might do this to other players in the future?"
"Only when I'm 100% sure I got 'em."
Zhao Dong wasn't about to let future opponents flip this on him. If he missed a shot trying to clown someone, the internet would never let him live it down.
"Was the early celebration a mind game to mess with Barkley?"
"Every tactic counts," Zhao Dong shrugged. "Mental warfare works too. Turns out, I got him. He wasn't ready for it."
A reporter grinned. "You once said, 'A shot without a defender is meaningless.' Does that mean you'll never take open shots?"
"I ain't that dumb," Zhao Dong scoffed.
"What do you wanna say to Michael Jordan about the upcoming game against the Bulls?"
"Nothing." Zhao Dong's voice turned ice cold.
"You had the edge over Barkley tonight. How do you rate his game?"
Zhao Dong smirked. "I let him know rookies ain't to be messed with. Rookies can be crazy too. As for his game? Not rating his skills, but his mental toughness? Yeah, that needs work. That's where he's not on Jordan's level."
The reporters exchanged glances. This rookie really out here critiquing a legend?
"You blocked Hakeem twice, stole the ball, and dunked on him. How would you rate him?"
"Man's a legend," Zhao Dong said with a smirk. "But… he's getting old."
The room buzzed.
"And how do you rate yourself?"
Zhao Dong grinned. "I think I got what it takes to make the Bulls' bench."
The reporters burst out laughing.
They knew damn well he was trolling Jordan, and they loved every second of it.
Of course, they'd use this to take shots at both Jordan and Zhao Dong. That's just how the media played the game.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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