Champion Rules

Chapter 189, page 185: The Rusty Pistol (Seeking monthly votes!)
"I really am the best forward in the East, Lynch? He's the best forward in Space Jam!" — Paul Pierce responded to reporters with a mix of conviction and pride.

Damn Lynch, damn Kobe. One hit a game-winner over me, the other ruined it. Seriously, I can't wait to see these two bastards hurt each other in the clutch. Their games have never gone to the clutch, have they? I'm really looking forward to this dog-eat-dog moment! — Dwyane Wade's helpless rant.

Oh yes, we made some inexplicable mistakes today. It's all Amir's fault, and I suggest the team trade him. As the second-best power forward in the East, if the Heat are willing to add a first-round draft pick, we're not opposed to taking a small loss and trading Amir for Pau Gasol. — DeShawn Stevenson on tonight's mistakes.

If it weren't for Lynch, my plush toys would probably be selling as well in New York as LeBron's. — Trevor Ariza on missing two free throws in the final moments of tonight's game.

When Trevor missed two crucial free throws, I wanted to rush over and kick his ass. But before that, I had to win the game. So I stayed focused, and then I won. — Lynch commenting on his defense in the final moments.
-
Lynch was in a good mood after successfully avenging his loss to the Miami Heat.

But the game against the Heat wasn't perfect; the two sides battled until the very end.

Aside from Pierce and Wade being in excellent form, the Knicks' biggest problem is the lack of consistent offensive firepower during rotations.

It's not just that they can't execute the seven-second offense; it's that they played without any strategy from start to finish, like a bunch of headless flies.

Goran Dragic still had the rawness of a rookie, Steve Blake was so mediocre that he was less noticeable than the cheerleaders on the sidelines, and DeShawn Stevenson's facepalm-worthy offensive choices seemed more like an impromptu performance by the Harlem Globetrotters.

This wasn't an issue during the Knicks' first era because Sam Cassell could perfectly orchestrate the offense during transition periods.

Although he was inhuman, he did everything a human would do on the field.

This season, the only guard the Knicks can truly be considered the engine of the team is Steve Nash.

Of course, there is a simple and direct way to solve this problem—increase Lynch's playing time.

But clearly, this wasn't the way Sam Presti wanted, and the trigger for the trade was already on his finger.

However, the potential impact of the trade rumors made him hesitate.

Initiating a transaction means that someone will be involved in the transaction rumors.

This is very demoralizing.

Last summer, Wilson Chandler was used by the Knicks as trade bait to move up the draft pick during the draft.

Although the deal ultimately fell through, rumors of it still spread online.

Fortunately, it was the offseason. After a whole summer of brewing, the impact of the trade rumor dissipated in the summer breeze.

But trade rumors during the season are a completely different situation.

This could sever the bond of trust in the locker room at any time.

If you open your phone every morning and are terrified of becoming a trading pawn, how can you still focus on training and competition?

Once players lose their sense of belonging, they will not give their all for the team.

Presti plans to address this issue after the Knicks set a record winning streak, aiming to solidify morale before making decisive moves to strengthen the team.

In any case, he will never allow the team to expose any weaknesses that can be exploited in the playoffs.

Lynch also disapproved of any trade rumors at this time, but his reasons differed from Sam Presti's.

"Wait a little longer, give that guy some more time."

The Knicks' unstoppable winning streak didn't end there; they tied their 15-game winning streak at the start of the season in Houston.

As one of the key figures in making history, Hakeem Olajuwon attended the game at the Toyota Center and congratulated Lynch afterward: "I would be proud if you broke this record. I taught you everything I had learned in my life, and it is only right that you break my record. It couldn't be more fitting."

Lynch grinned mischievously: "Thank you for your blessing, and I'm really sorry, I heard that the training camp business is getting worse and worse. It's my incompetence, I can't save your training camp from LeBron."

Hakeem Olajuwon's smile vanished instantly: "Alright, let's not talk about him tonight. LeBron is a good guy, and he's very talented, really."

Lynch's eyes widened, his feelings mirroring those of a fan in 2025 upon hearing Victor Wimbledon's decision to become a monk at the Shaolin Temple: "Are you fucking serious?"

"Damn it, what am I supposed to say? Call LeBron a bad actor in front of the cameras?! Okay, this is a great night, let's not talk about him."

That's the power of LeBron James; he can make even the great Dream fear to even talk about his name.

After defeating the Houston Rockets, the Knicks set a new record of 16 consecutive wins to start the season against the Pacers.

For Reebok, this could be another phenomenal season for Lynch after his first individual accolade.

Marketing campaigns surrounding him will continue, and Reebok's complete overtaking of Nike is just around the corner.

On this historic night, Lynch was surrounded by reporters for a long time during a locker room interview.

Therefore, when Lynch heard the stadium staff begin to clear the court, he felt a sense of joy similar to finally hearing the bell ring for the end of get out of class when he was a student.

"One last question, Lynch," the blonde New York Times reporter, shuffling through the crowd in her high heels, asked, still trying to get the question out of the way, "where do you plan to celebrate breaking the record when you get back to New York tomorrow?"

As a superstar, it wouldn't be surprising if Lin Qi were to have a friendly match with a female tennis legend on his private jet tomorrow night.

But Lynch's answer was unexpected: "I'm going to watch the game tomorrow night."

"Watch a game? Neither the New York Yankees nor the New York Giants have a game tomorrow."

"No, I want to go see a basketball game."
-
On November 30, Ben Gordon went out wearing a hoodie, as usual.

It was a normal day for him: playing a game in a quiet arena and then driving home like an office worker.

Although occasionally a drunkard might lean against a fire hydrant on the street, flashing yellow teeth and asking him, "Hey, did you regret punching Raja?" most of the time, he's like someone who's vanished from the NBA.

But tonight, when he arrived at Westchester Stadium, he was shocked to find that the parking lot, which usually only had three or five old pickup trucks, was completely full.

As a player, he couldn't even find a place to park for a while—G League players don't have dedicated parking spaces.

The parking lot security guard knocked on Gordon's car window: "Why don't you drive to the parking lot across the street and walk over?"

Stepping into the locker room, the noise emanating from the arena surprised Ben Gordon even more.

Every teammate was eager to seize this opportunity and make a big splash.

"God knows why so many people are here to watch the game today, but this is an opportunity!"

"Come on, they're all here for Lynch. He said after his game in Indianapolis yesterday that he'd come to watch our game tonight, and then everyone came."

"Why is Lynch so interested in the G League? He's been here several times this season." After this question was raised, some people's eyes fell on Ben Gordon.

Ben Gordon remained silent as always before going onto the court to warm up.

Although the stadium, which can only hold 2000 people, makes the scale of the game similar to that of a high school, it was a long-awaited scene for Ben Gordon.

He was shooting the ball on the court, listening to the whispers coming from the stands.

"This bastard is in the Development League? I thought he'd been cut a long time ago."

"Fuck, he hasn't been traded yet?"

"You can't be too greedy, buddy. If he had accepted the Bulls' contract extension offer, he wouldn't be playing here right now."

"A pathetic creature abandoned by the world."

Ben Gordon continued shooting with his hood up, filtering out the noise.

Until he heard the commotion in the arena and saw that tall figure appear on the field.

The tall figure picked up the basketball from the ground, his custom-made suit highlighting his muscular physique.

He greeted Gordon as usual: "Good evening, ready to kick the other side's ass?"

Gordon nodded. Although Lynch had been watching his games frequently over the past two months, he hadn't exchanged more than five sentences with Lynch in total.

Lynch casually took a three-pointer: "Do you know why there are so many people here today? I deliberately said I wanted to watch your game. It's because Sam is about to trade you, you know. The team always has to give you a chance to perform, to let the buyers check you out, to let them know how much gas you still have."

Ben Gordon remained expressionless and continued warming up.

"But I disagree with this plan. I think you can still play. So, I deliberately let everyone see your current condition. Listen, I'm not going to come watch your game late at night because you're so charming."

I just want to remind you that, at least, you haven't been abandoned by everyone.

So tonight, don't let me embarrass myself in front of Sam. I'll tell him you can still fight.

Of course, it doesn't matter if I embarrass myself. I only need to embarrass myself for one night, while you will be the one who leaves in the end, and you will never find a bigger stage than New York.

And that also means you deserved to be dumped; being dumped only proves you're truly a piece of trash that can't be helped.

After Lynch finished speaking, he made one last shot and returned to the bench amidst cheers, like an emperor surveying his fiefdom.

Ben Gordon stood rooted to the spot. Lynch's words sounded ruthless, but they were true.

But what more could a superstar ask for than to come and watch his game?

After Lynch sat down, Sam Presti fiddled with his phone, which contained countless deal plans that could send the media into a frenzy.

"What did you say to him?" Presti asked.

"It's nothing. Let him fight if he can, and get lost if he can't."

"So direct?"

"What? I have to coax him to play well? I gave him the opportunity and the stage, that's the greatest kindness I can show him."

"Indeed, but you know Lynch, I don't have high expectations for this game. Ben has already lost his way, as the preseason has already proven."

As the game began, Sam Presti's attention was not on the field; he spent most of his time staring at his phone screen.

But as the game progressed, he heard the cheers from the stadium growing increasingly excited.

Finally, Sam Presti decided to focus his attention on the game for the time being: "Lynch, what's the situation now?"

"43 points."

"Well, for a G League team, 43 points in three quarters is pretty good."

"No, Ben got 43 points."

As soon as he finished speaking, Ben Gordon quickly dribbled to the three-point line and raised his hand to shoot.

The basketball seemed to be equipped with some kind of remote control, and it flew into the net in an incredible way.

After throwing the ball, Ben Gordon glanced at Lynch and Sam Presti on the sidelines.

Sam Presti frowned; even in the Development League, scoring that many points was no easy feat.

"He's doing pretty well," Presti finally gave him a positive assessment.

"It's alright, it's slowly recovering."

Do you think we need to bring him back into the roster?

"It's obvious he can play."

“But I really don’t want to see him beating someone up on the practice field anymore. We’re on a good level in the locker room right now. Besides, I don’t think he’ll be popular in the locker room.” Sam Presti was conflicted; bringing in Ben Gordon felt like playing Russian roulette.

Lynch's gaze was calm as still water: "He doesn't need to be popular, he just needs to play well in the few minutes Steve is off the court. Besides, it's better than getting us caught up in trade rumors."

The crowd erupted in cheers again, and Ben Gordon's score on the electronic scoreboard was now starting with "5".

He finally pulled out his rusty pistol, slowly cocked it with his rough hands, and fired deadly bullets time and again amidst the encirclement of a group of seven-foot-tall men, firmly grasping victory in his hands and trampling the dignity of all his opponents under his feet.

Lynch clapped approvingly, and the fans cheered for him.

That night, he truly felt that he had not been abandoned by the whole world.

Ben Gordon is not dead.

Lynch fiddled with his phone, a sinister, shark-like smile spreading across his face. This smile held the philosophy of a New York tyrant—he would personally polish every dusty bullet before loading it into the chambers of the Killing League's guns.

“Let him try,” Sam Presti finally spoke up. “Like you said, if he can fight, let him fight; if he can’t, then let him go.”

(End of this chapter)