Zhao Dong wrapped up the on-site interview, hit the locker room, showered up, and got ready for the post-game press conference.
Over in the Rockets' locker room, Tomjanovich picked Hakeem Olajuwon and Clyde Drexler to face the media. He looked at Charles Barkley and asked if he wanted to join.
Before Barkley could answer, Olajuwon smirked and said, "Charles, if you skip this, that kid's gonna say you're scared of him."
Barkley immediately shot up. "Hell nah, I'm going."
Fifteen minutes later, the press conference started.
"Hakeem, Zhao Dong said you're getting old. Any thoughts on that?" A reporter who had just interviewed Zhao Dong asked.
Olajuwon's eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed. "I'll make sure to teach him a lesson next time."
"Barkley, Zhao Dong said you ain't got the mental toughness Jordan has. He thinks that's where you fall short. What do you say to that?" another reporter asked.
Barkley lost it. "Man, just 'cause you won one damn game, don't think you can judge me! You got a long way to go, kid!"
Zhao Dong wasn't about to let that slide. He leaned in and said coldly, "When you get old, you gotta accept it. Look at Jordan—when he started slowing down, he cut back on driving and leaned into his jumper. He's smarter than you."
The media room erupted. Reporters were eating this up—Zhao Dong had been feeding them gold since day one.
"Zhao Dong, are you saying Jordan is old?" one reporter fired off before the previous topic was even wrapped up.
"Yeah, isn't he?" Zhao Dong shrugged. "He's old."
"But he's still dominant!" the reporter shot back.
"That's just experience carrying him. His body's not what it used to be."
"You really think you can take him down in two seasons?" another one pressed.
"I'm sure of it." Zhao Dong's confidence was unwavering.
"And if you don't?"
The room got even louder. Reporters knew someone was setting a trap, and they were all waiting for Zhao Dong to walk right into it.
"If I don't?" Zhao Dong smirked. "Alright, pass this along to Jordan—if I break up his second three-peat in two years, he's gotta apologize to me in person. If I fail, I'll call him the God of Basketball."
The media room exploded. This was just as big as Barkley's bet with Zhao Dong about calling him 'Dad.'
"I'm definitely bringing this to him!" a reporter named Wells Tom said, grinning. "I'm heading to Chicago—wait, no, the Bulls are on the road in Minnesota. Either way, Zhao Dong, I'm on it!"
"Cool," Zhao Dong said as he stood up. "If he agrees, we'll lock it in when I see him in a couple of days."
Barkley and Olajuwon both looked pissed. This was supposed to be their press conference, but somehow, Zhao Dong and Jordan—who wasn't even in the building—had stolen the show. But since they lost the game, there wasn't much they could say.
Before the conference even wrapped up, some reporters had already bolted out, dialing Jordan's number, desperate to be the first to get his reaction.
Too bad for them—Jordan's phone was off.
Knicks Flight to San Antonio
An hour and a half later, the Knicks boarded their overnight flight to San Antonio.
Sitting back in his seat, Zhao Dong took a deep breath and excitedly fired up his system.
[Ding!]
"Congrats! You led your team to victory. You've earned 5 Quality Points and 5 Skill Points."
"Congrats! You successfully sniped Charles Barkley and acquired his big-ass frame."
"Congrats! You successfully sniped Hakeem Olajuwon and unlocked his Coordination Talent. Do you want to overwrite?"
Zhao Dong grinned from ear to ear.
"Yo, Zhao Dong, you really think you can take down the Bulls and Jordan in two years?" Charles Oakley, sitting beside him, asked.
Zhao Dong snapped out of it, quickly shutting off the system. He turned to Oakley and lowered his voice. "Honestly, Charles, I don't even think Patrick's got two years. His body's breaking down. This season might be our best shot."
Oakley's eyes widened. He glanced across the aisle at Patrick Ewing, who was sitting quietly. Zhao Dong wasn't wrong—Ewing wasn't recovering as fast anymore, and his injuries were stacking up.
Still, the idea of taking down Jordan this season? That was wild.
"What's up, Charles?" Ewing asked, noticing Oakley's stare.
"Oh, nothing. We were just talking about our matchups with the Bulls this season," Oakley said with a smile.
Zhao Dong jumped back in. "The Bulls aren't as solid as they seem. Their locker room and management are beefing, and even inside the team, things ain't all smooth."
Oakley raised an eyebrow. "How you figure?"
Knicks GM Ernie Grunfeld, head coach Jeff Van Gundy, and assistant coach Tom Thibodeau turned around in their seats, now fully locked into the conversation.
Even Ewing and Larry Johnson were listening now.
Thibodeau chuckled. "You spent some time in Chicago, huh? Sounds like you know a lot."
Zhao Dong smirked. "Yeah, I picked up some things. The biggest problem for the Bulls isn't even the players—it's the owner, Jerry Reinsdorf."
Everyone was caught off guard.
"The owner?"
Zhao Dong nodded. "Jordan's got too much pull. He keeps pushing his weight around with management, and Reinsdorf ain't happy about it. He's worried about losing control of the team."
"But he just paid Jordan a huge contract this offseason," Van Gundy pointed out.
"That doesn't mean he's cool with Jordan running the franchise," Zhao Dong countered. "Everyone's patience has a limit. If Jordan crosses that line, Reinsdorf might blow it all up. That could kill the dynasty."
Thibodeau leaned in. "What else?"
Zhao Dong smirked. "Jordan and GM Jerry Krause? Those two hate each other. Jordan publicly dogs him out. I've seen him talk trash to Krause's face on the team bus. It was ugly."
"And that's how we got you," Grunfeld chuckled.
Zhao Dong laughed. "Exactly. That's why I'm grateful to the Knicks."
Grunfeld nodded, feeling good about the gamble they took on Zhao Dong. With the way he was playing and how sharp he was off the court, the Knicks looked like they had something real brewing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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