Chapter 420 - 420
Chapter 420: Arrival (3)
A fan was killing time, mindlessly scrolling through the news.
It was summer vacation, a stretch where everyone had too much free time and no games to watch. Under those circumstances, even the slightest movement in the trade market was enough to grab fans’ attention.
“Hm? Something new?”
As he scrolled, a headline suddenly popped up at the very top of the page.
He focused his eyes.
“Kevin Durant Confirmed to Join the Brooklyn Nets on a Four-Year, $164 Million Contract!”
“Durant to the Nets?!”
The instant the words sank in, his head started buzzing.
Why?
Sure, there had been rumors linking Durant and the Nets ever since the offseason began, but from a fan’s perspective, the Nets were only just climbing out of the hole left by their former owner’s disastrous decisions. They were nowhere near being a true championship contender.
And Durant—fresh off three straight titles, firmly established as the undisputed best player in the league—was actually leaving the Kings, the team he had spent four years with, to go to Brooklyn?
For a moment, the entire internet exploded. Every possible take and theory flooded timelines and forums.
As for the Kings, the team directly involved, they released a tribute video to Durant on their official account the moment the deal was finalized, wishing him well with his new team. Other than that, there was no further response.
“See? I told you I wasn’t lying. Hurry up and get to Brooklyn to sign the contract. Don’t make me wait too long.”
Inside a Brooklyn apartment, Durant said with a grin.
“Got it. I’ll book a flight and head over in the next couple of days.”
On the other end of the phone, Kyrie Irving sounded just as cheerful.
After several years of a miserable experience as a team’s supposed leader, Irving had finally realized—far too late—that the Celtics’ attention had already shifted entirely to their two young cornerstones.
Staying in Boston as a leader in name only no longer made any sense.
So once last season ended, Irving had a complete falling-out with the Celtics’ front office and opted out of his contract, becoming a full-fledged free agent.
Back when he played alongside LeBron, Irving constantly dreamed about striking out on his own and becoming the man. But after truly becoming the leader, he discovered in despair that he simply didn’t have the head for carrying a team by himself.
In the end, he could only settle for being a second option again.
Going back to LeBron was out of the question. That left the league’s most dominant figure at the moment—Kevin Durant—as Irving’s best possible partner.
Durant, newly departed from the Kings, was also eager to find someone who could help shoulder the pressure. And just like that, the two close friends ran straight toward each other.
Before long, more news came out of Brooklyn.
Kyrie Irving had signed a four-year, $142 million deal with the Nets, teaming up with Durant to form a superstar duo.
In an instant, the entire league was thrown into turmoil.
The Nets, who had spent years as the league’s perennial punchline, suddenly transformed into the biggest winners of the offseason. Their roster strength soared, and they became serious contenders for next season’s championship.
Ajiali was holding a document, heading over to get Chen Yilun’s signature, when she reached the doorway and saw McNair standing outside Yilun’s office, absentmindedly playing with his phone.
“Monty, why are you just standing here?”
Ajiali asked curiously. “Isn’t Yilun in his office?”
“He is. He’s inside talking to someone.”
Seeing Ajiali, McNair gave an awkward smile. “You’re here to see Yilun too? You’ll have to wait your turn. He hasn’t been in a great mood these past couple of days.”
Before Ajiali could ask anything else, a furious shout suddenly burst out from inside the office.
“Get lost! Stop pestering me!”
“What’s going on?”
Ajiali jumped at the sudden noise, her curiosity immediately ignited.
“Who else could it be? Other than those few people, who could piss Yilun off this badly?”
McNair chuckled as he explained.
“Peja’s back. He said he wants to make a trade with us. They’ve been talking in there this whole time. Probably here to squeeze Yilun for favors again.”
...
...
“How do you even have the nerve to say that?”
Inside the office, Chen Yilun’s face was flushed red as he glared at Peja.
Sitting across from him, Peja wore a completely unconcerned smile.
“What’s there to be embarrassed about? I’m your own guy. If you don’t take care of me, who are you going to take care of?”
Peja lounged on the sofa, a cigarette hanging from his lips, grinning happily.
“Boss, you’ve got so many good young players on your hands. You can’t possibly use them all yourself. Share a few with me. After signing Kevin and Kyrie, my team’s cap space is ridiculously tight. Just help me out a little.”
“I’d rather let them rot on my hands than give them to you!”
Watching Peja shamelessly push his luck, Chen Yilun felt his temper flare instantly.
“You think a single first-round pick is enough to get my Anunoby? Keep dreaming!”
“You’re exaggerating.”
Seeing that Chen Yilun really was getting angry, Peja quickly stood up to smooth things over.
“Come on, it’s not that serious. Anunoby was just a throw-in when you traded with the Raptors anyway. You already made a profit back then. Now I throw in a little more—doesn’t that make it even better? You’ve earned plenty off Anunoby already.”
“Get out, get out, get out!”
Chen Yilun waved his hand impatiently. “Is that how you do business? Get lost. If you’re not showing any sincerity, hurry back to Brooklyn yourself.”
“Don’t be like that, boss.”
At this point, Peja was practically a mirror image of Chen Yilun himself, fully channeling the shameless, relentless persistence Chen had shown back when he first entered the league.
“Back then, when I said I didn’t want to go to Brooklyn, you knew exactly what I was capable of. I’m not cut out to be a general manager. You were the one who said it was fine, that you’d support me. Now’s when I actually need your help, and you’re giving me the official routine again?”
“Just say it. Are you helping me or not?”
Looking at Peja sprawled across the sofa, playing the rogue to the end, Chen Yilun froze for a moment before bursting out laughing.
“It really does run in the family. That shamelessness is exactly the same.”
“Alright, sit up.”
Chen Yilun sat back down on the sofa, smiling.
“Anunoby is absolutely off the table. You must have other demands. While I’m still willing to talk things through properly, hurry up and say them.”
...
Chapter 421: Arrival (4)
“Really?!”
At Chen Yilun’s words, Peja’s eyes lit up at once. He’d been fully prepared to keep throwing a tantrum just moments ago.
“See? See?”
After wiping his face, Peja broke into a wide grin and turned to Chen Yilun.
“I knew it. There’s no way you’d just leave your own guys hanging.”
“Don’t put it like that. I’m not even older than you.”
Chen Yilun waved him off, signaling him to stop with the flattery. “If you’ve got demands, say them quickly.”
“Alright, I’ll say it.”
Peja paused briefly, choosing his words.
“We’re not short on perimeter ball-handlers for now, but we’re lacking firepower. You need to give me a shooter I can actually rely on.”
“Anything else?”
Chen Yilun took a sip of water. “You wouldn’t put on this whole act just for one shooter. What else do you want? Say it.”
“We’re still missing an interior piece.”
Peja chuckled and lowered his voice.
“Boss, you’ve got so many big men on your roster. Just spare one for me.”
“Who do you want?”
Chen Yilun frowned, not agreeing right away.
This routine sounded way too familiar. It felt like something he himself had pulled on other people before.
“I know Jokić is untouchable for you, and Oden’s probably planning to finish his career in Sacramento, so I won’t touch those.”
Peja went back and forth for a while before finally getting to the point.
“But that Zubac you’ve got—keeping him doesn’t really do much for you anyway. You might as well give him to me.”
“Give him to you?”
Chen Yilun raised an eyebrow. “You’re thinking too much. Zubac has real value. Don’t even think about it.”
With Oden aging and Cousins affected by injuries, the Kings’ interior rotation was already starting to show a gap.
At this point, aside from Jokić, who was squarely in his prime, there really wasn’t a true, dependable big center who could step up.
Of course, that standard was based on Chen Yilun’s own expectations.
For most other teams, a declining Oden or a serviceable Siakam would still be acceptable backup options. There’d be no need to specifically look for a Jokić replacement.
But the Kings were different. Every position had to be top-tier.
“What about this year’s rookies?”
Chen Yilun said casually, holding a copy of the roster.
“If you really want them, I can tough it out and give you Washington and Gafford.”
“No!”
The moment he heard those two names, Peja shook his head like a rattle drum.
“I need players who can contribute right away. Those two clearly need time to develop. I can’t wait.”
The Nets’ current roster was actually pretty lopsided.
Most teams slowly develop young players, build up quality depth, and then strike when a suitable core star appears on the free-agent market.
The Nets, on the other hand, hadn’t even finished developing their role players when Durant and Irving suddenly dropped in.
It was like building a skyscraper where the foundation wasn’t even finished, but the luxury penthouse was already in place.
That was why Peja was scrambling now, desperately trying to patch things up and find suitable teammates for Durant and Irving.
“For the perimeter, I actually do have someone for you.”
Chen Yilun glanced down at the roster.
“Fred VanVleet—the undrafted guy I developed. He spent a full three years grinding it out in the G League. This season he got called up to the main roster and played pretty well. You definitely know him.”
“He’s about to be up for an extension. I was planning to lock him into a long-term deal. If you really want him, I can trade him to you first. It’s a guaranteed win for you.”
In later years, Van Jordan’s contract would be labeled a toxic deal, largely because of his perfect performance in the 2019 Finals, which sent his value skyrocketing—right when the Rockets were desperate for a franchise leader.
A series of coincidences led to that massive contract.
But right now, Van Jordan was diligently doing his job on the Kings, putting up steady, unremarkable numbers. An extension wouldn’t be an issue, but a big contract was definitely off the table.
“Fred? That works.”
Peja responded immediately when he heard VanVleet’s name.
“I’ve watched that kid grow step by step. He’s one of our own, easy to use. He’d be perfect as a second ball-handler next to Irving.”
“But, boss…”
Peja suddenly shifted his tone.
“There’s actually one more guy I want—Dillon Brooks.”
“You want Dillon?”
Chen Yilun froze for a moment. That name hadn’t occurred to him at all.
“I need him.”
Peja let out a long sigh before continuing.
“My roster is short-handed right now, especially on defense. That hole is huge. I remember Dillon—his defense can be a bit reckless at times, but the quality is there. He’d shore up our perimeter defense nicely.”
“That’s fine.”
Chen Yilun looked at Peja and suddenly couldn’t help laughing.
“So what are you willing to offer for those two?”
“How about one first-round pick and two second-round picks?”
The instant Peja finished speaking, a crumpled wad of napkins flew straight at his forehead, hitting him dead on.
“Talk properly.”
Chen Yilun rolled his eyes.
“Don’t push your luck. I’m giving you a whole VanVleet and Brooks, and you think this little bit is enough?”
Strictly speaking, Chen Yilun had barely spent any assets to get VanVleet and Brooks.
Both were on minimum contracts, and aside from the second-round pick used to select Dillon Brooks, he hadn’t given up any draft capital or resources.
But that wasn’t how the math worked.
The Kings had invested real effort into developing them—coaching arrangements, accumulated game experience—all of it built up over time.
“You don’t have to be so short-tempered.”
Peja picked up the napkin and tossed it into the trash.
“Just name a price. We’ll meet in the middle.”
“Two unprotected first-round picks. One less and there’s no deal.”
After thinking it over, Chen Yilun named his bottom line.
“Deal.”
To his surprise, the moment Chen Yilun stated his price, Peja nodded without hesitation, pulled a contract out of his bag, and shoved it into Chen Yilun’s hand.
“Take a look. If it’s fine, sign it.”
“Wait—what?”
Chen Yilun stared at the contract, his mind briefly going blank.
“You had this prepared already?”
“More or less.”
Peja handed him a carbon pen as he spoke.
“I even brought two other versions with different numbers. Funny how it worked out—your price just happened to be one I had ready.”
Peja gave him an embarrassed smile.
“Boss, boss, I’ve been your personal secretary for so many years. I know your tricks inside and out. I basically knew your psychological price before I even walked in.”
Author's Note
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