Champion Rules

Chapter 194, page 190: The Most Important Day (Seeking monthly votes!)

The Cavaliers have made yet another trade.

Daniel Gilbert, like a haggard housewife who knows she's about to be abandoned, changes her outfits every night to try and win back LeBron James's heart, attempting to make him re-identify as a Cleveland native.

To be honest, Daniel Gilbert's patience has run out.

Who did number 23 think he was?

A man who has never beaten Lynch in his entire career—even Dwight Howard beat Lynch once.

A guy ridiculed by the media as the "reverse Lynch"—this is arguably Nike's worst investment to date.

An immature young man – his leadership is simply disastrous, and no player has ever improved by playing alongside him.

The value of this chosen one is entirely dependent on his unique geographical advantages.

For this Rust Belt city, which desperately needs a spiritual totem, it is a comfort after the decline of industrial civilization.

Only in Cleveland is he a hero, a superstar.

People love him only because he is a local boy.

Stripped of Cleveland's last layer of protection, how much real value does this symbol, overly beautified by capital, actually retain?

Daniel Gilbert was never defending LeBron James, but rather a regional myth.

To make money off the Cavaliers, you have to maintain good relations with this team that's willing to bring Cleveland fans to watch games.

That's LBJ's only value.

Doesn't LBJ know this? Does he really think he's a highly sought-after superstar?

Daniel Gilbert spent the entire night trying to figure out where LBJ's courage to leave came from.

But there was nothing he could do; he had to play along with LBJ in this absurd game. Because if #23 really made the stupid decision to leave, Daniel Gilbert would have to pay the price for his foolishness, and all his investments would be ruined.

Patrick Ewing was also confused.

Two days ago, the New York Knicks officially hired Patrick Ewing as their center coach.

Flip Saunders hopes that Ewing can provide more guidance to DeAndre Jordan and Tyson Chandler on the defensive end, offering details and experience that trainers cannot provide.

Offense? Philip Sanders never imagined Ewing could salvage their offense. Hakeem Olajuwon's tuition refund incident has proven how crucial it is to protect teachers' mental and physical well-being.

Philip Sanders had a premonition that if Tyson Chandler and DeAndre Jordan learned to play offense, they could get Ewing to resign within five days.

Patrick Ewing became part of the Knicks coaching staff, which inevitably led to more contact with Lynch.

During a break in training today, Patrick Ewing finally couldn't contain his curiosity and asked a question that had been bothering him for a long time:
"I don't understand Lynch. Why do you consider LBJ a rival? Why do you value competing with LBJ so much? I mean, he and you are not even in the same league."

Just like Michael Jordan in the 90s wouldn't consider Mitch Richmond a mortal enemy.

After asking the question, Patrick Ewing seemed to suddenly realize that he and MJ were also of vastly different status back then.

But he refused to admit that he was the same as LBJ.

He began to clear his name.

"Okay, I'm not as good as MJ either. So let me ask you, have I ever complained about the dedicated New York management? Complained about my teammates being bad? Said the coaches were rubbish? Would I do something like that? Lynch, answer me."

When we lost to MJ, I didn't blame the role players for not being good enough, nor did I blame the United Center's air conditioning for being too hot. As a man, could I say such things?

I've always faced MJ head-on. He stole my championship, and I've pushed him to a Game 7. LeBron, on the other hand, has never posed any threat to you. He doesn't even dare to admit his defeat like a man; he's always making excuses.

Do you really need to fight to the death with someone like him? What kind of sworn enemy is he?

Patrick Ewing's Jamaican accent reveals the unsatisfactory life of a retired star.

Lynch replied with a smile: "If Mickey is so arrogant as to repeatedly and publicly claim that he is on par with MJ, and even tries to defile God's throne with despicable words, believe me, MJ would do the same thing as me. Nemesis does not always have to be evenly matched. Some nemesis are simply those who, upon meeting, will be utterly crushed, leaving not even a trace of self-respect."

Patrick Ewing could understand Lynch's answer.

A tyrant will naturally not be lenient with those who do not respect him.

“But that’s not called rival Lynch,” Ewing laughed. “That’s fucking called sex furnace.”

"Don't disgust me, Patrick. At least one woman should be lying in front of me."

After finishing the discussion, Ewing stood up, his massive, fan-like hand tracing an arc in the air, his deep voice echoing through the training hall: "Guys! Five-minute break over. Hang in there, let's finish the last training session of the day!"

Tyson Chandler and DeAndre Jordan jumped up at the sound and jogged back onto the court, their jerseys still damp with sweat.

Ewing also stepped onto the court, but suddenly stopped before stepping onto the wooden floor: "One last question, just out of curiosity, how confident are you about breaking the 72-win record? Are you really planning to move towards this goal?"

“It’s hard to say now,” Lynch said, getting up and wiping his sweat with a towel. “But after tonight, I should be 99% sure.”
-
Lynch's restaurant is closed to the public tonight, but a large number of reporters have gathered there.

Because it is temporarily closed to the public, it means that this most prestigious restaurant in New York has been booked out by someone.

At 7 p.m., reporters noticed Knicks players arriving and entering the restaurant one after another.

Only then did they realize that Lynch himself had booked the entire restaurant.

Inside the restaurant, the King of New York, having shed his number 20 jersey and donning an oil-stained linen apron, moved between the kitchen and the tables.
Tonight, there were no other outsiders in the restaurant besides Spike Lee and his photography crew.

Even the waiters were given a day off, and Lin Qi was in charge of distributing tableware and serving dishes to everyone.

In both Chinese and Western cultures, family dinners are considered the highest form of hospitality. Therefore, Lin Qi wanted to create this atmosphere of eating at home.

Once all the dishes were served, Lin Qi sat down, picked up the remote control, pressed a switch, and a huge projection screen slowly descended.

“Lynch, you’re not going to show me the movie ‘Paths of Glory,’ are you? It’s really inspiring, but I’ve seen it thousands of times,” DeShawn Stevenson joked.

Lynch kept everyone in suspense: "Believe me, this is a hundred times more exciting than 'Path of Glory.' Get ready to witness a true purgatory and rebirth."

Darkness descended suddenly, and a deafening roar erupted from the curtain. The nightmare of the 2007 Western Conference Finals returned; Steve Nash was slammed into the scorer's table by Robert Horry, and a close-up of his distorted face completely exposed his panic and fear.

Steve Nash, who was about to pick up some food, froze like an ice sculpture, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and anger.

He didn't expect Lynch to play this scene, and every time he saw the footage that had ruined his chance to win the championship, his anger would surge up.

Next, there was a shot of Raja Bell walking into the players' tunnel, clutching his head after losing the series. On either side, Phoenix fans were crying, which touched a raw nerve beneath Raja Bell's tough exterior.

The camera cruelly slices through time and space, showing Tyson Chandler hunched over in the United Center, surrounded by Chicago fans chanting "flop."

The scene cuts to Ben Gordon, wearing a hoodie, practicing dribbling alone in the empty Westchester Stadium. No spectators, no sound, no hope.

The scene then cuts to draft night six months prior, where DeAndre Jordan waits dejectedly for his name to be called in the first round. As he falls out of the lottery, his gaze gradually dims.
Lynch was right; the video playing at that moment was more eye-catching than "Paths of Glory."

He showed everyone's vulnerable, failed, and down-on-their-luck side.

The cold, blue light of the screen moved across everyone's faces, and no one could utter a sound, as if the thorns of memory were piercing their throats.

No one knew what Lynch was up to until the video suddenly cut off, and the only sound in the restaurant was the heavy breathing that could be heard.

Then, the video's tone suddenly shifted to a brighter tone.

It turned into DeAndre Jordan wearing a Knicks jersey and dominating his opponents.

It turned into Steve Nash's laughter after easily defeating the Spurs.

It turned into Raja Bell enjoying the cheers in Madison Square Garden.

It turned into Ben Gordon's roar after sinking a three-pointer.
After a few shots, the camera focused on close-ups of the opponents' expressions during the match.

Faced with the New York Knicks' crushing dominance, everyone's faces revealed fear.

When Lynch high-fived Nash, when Tyson Chandler set a screen for Ben Gordon, when they filed out of the player tunnel—all these moments were accompanied by the fearful and desperate looks of their opponents.

It was as if this wasn't a basketball team, but a heavily armored knightly order that had trampled over the neck of fate.

The video ended, but no one spoke; everyone just looked at each other in bewilderment.

Lynch bit down on his lit cigar, the smoke rising in the projection beam. He waited a full thirteen seconds until DeShawn Stevenson accidentally bumped his chopsticks, before the King of New York turned his gaze to the fire deep within the souls of each warrior.

"Listen, I know we all have our failures, I know we all have some unbearable pasts. Every scar has kept us tossing and turning at night, and every failed figure has made us feel ashamed under the spotlight."

But all that is over. Open your eyes and look at the present!

Right now, the New York Knicks are the best team in the league. When our boots tread the hardwood floors, the entire league trembles. The fear of those we've destroyed will spread like a contagious disease to every arena!

Therefore, the immense pressure should not be on us, but on our opponents!
I know what 72 wins means; people say that Chicago Bulls team was the best in NBA history.

But we are no less formidable; we are equally fearsome, and we can drive fans wild.

We are not chasing greatness, we are transcending greatness.

When Chicagoans reminisce about their ancient legends in documentaries, what we need to do is not to worship old gods, but to use the new era to grind myths to dust, and then, we ourselves become gods!

Lin Qi slammed his fist heavily on the table, the cutlery vibrating and humming as his piercing gaze swept over each soldier:
"From today onward, every opponent will have nightmares before the game—dreaming that our help defense will crush their breakthroughs like an iron torrent, that our counterattacks will split their defenses like lightning, and that the cheers at Madison Square Garden will turn into a monstrous wave that swallows them up."

We are not aiming for 72 wins; this number is simply a record of the greatness of our path to conquest.

Guys—

Lynch held up a tall glass filled with juice toward the dome, the glow of the crystal chandelier piercing through the orange liquid and reflecting a scorching golden light in the leader's eyes.

The soldiers around the table heaved violently, and the metallic scraping sound of steel clashing escaped from their clenched teeth. They were all waiting to create greatness with Lynch.

Even Ben Gordon, who had always maintained a distance from the locker room, frowned, seemingly eager to appear in the next game.

Lynch clinked glasses with everyone, the crisp sound like a starting pistol, tearing away the last vestiges of hesitation: "Then, let's begin our conquest!"

Spike Lee's team faithfully documented the moment. He knew Lynch, but he was still amazed by the young man's control over the championship team.

He will not let a team capable of creating greatness miss the opportunity to achieve greatness.

He will make everyone keep pace with him.

Then everyone will be showered with honors.

It was an ordinary night, but Spike Lee assured that it was a turning point for the Knicks.

This means that tension, pressure, and lack of confidence are crumbling, and from now on, this Knicks team believes they can destroy all the teams in the league and climb to the top of glory.

When Lynch simultaneously tore open the scars of the losers and the medals of the conquerors, this iron army was no longer a pilgrim seeking glory, but an arbiter rewriting the annals of basketball history.

Spike Lee immediately pulled out his phone and started writing narration for a potential documentary.

"Perhaps we will only know the significance of this night in the near future. But if the Knicks eventually surpass 72 wins and become the greatest team of this era, then today will be the most important day for the Knicks besides the day they drafted Lynch with the first overall pick in 2004."

After the dinner party ended, Lin Qi saw all the guests off, then returned to the table and sat down, taking a weary puff of his cigar.

Wu Lan came up, took the cigar from her son's hand, and handed him a bowl of soup: "Don't smoke this stuff all the time, it's not good for you."

"I have my measure."

"Alright, drink your soup, then go home and get a good night's sleep. Being a leader isn't easy."

"Love you mom, see you tomorrow."
-
Lynch didn't respect MJ enough because he disregarded the greatness of 72 wins. I know he's always been arrogant, but we'll show him how far he is from greatness in the second half of the season. —LeBron James, brimming with confidence after the acquisitions, gave an interview.

72 wins is an unbreakable record in NBA history, and the 96 Bulls are widely considered the strongest team in NBA history. The New York Knicks are great, but they can't be called the greatest of all time. — NBA Time and Space

"Stop talking nonsense, come and stop me if you dare." — Lynch's response in an interview with ESPN.

(End of this chapter)