"Where'd you run off to this time, kid?"
Malone looked curiously at the late-arriving Chen Yilun.
"My boss needed something from me." Since they were in the middle of a game, Chen Yilun didn't want to share the news yet. "You'll know tonight. It's good news."
Malone rolled his eyes at the cryptic reply.
"There you go being all mysterious again. Lame."
"Forget that. How's the game?"
Chen Yilun shifted the topic and glanced up at the scoreboard.
"What do you think happened?"
Malone stood with his arms crossed. "They're a team in rebuild mode. Nothing hard about it—we've got this handled."
As they talked, Gay held the ball on the perimeter. Facing Alec Burks, he didn't hesitate for even a second. Using his natural height advantage, he easily pushed inside the arc and knocked down a mid-range jumper.
Right after scoring, Gay caught sight—out of the corner of his eye—of Chen Yilun walking to the sideline, whispering with Malone.
Finally decided to show up, huh?
A slight grin tugged at Gay's lips.
He had finally worked up the will to put on a show for the hometown crowd in Sacramento, but the main guy he wanted to impress—Chen Yilun—was nowhere to be seen.
Now that Chen Yilun was back, Gay's fighting spirit surged again.
After the possession switched, the Kings stopped another Jazz attack. Butler grabbed the rebound and pushed up the floor. After a pick-and-roll with Richardson, he pulled up from mid-range, but the shot clanged off the rim.
Just as everyone assumed the possession was over, Derrick Favors—already preparing to grab the rebound—suddenly felt his vision go dark. A shadow flashed in front of him.
Gay had appeared out of nowhere under the basket, leaping up to snatch the rebound right over Favors' head.
"Hey!"
Watching a sure rebound get stolen, Favors spread his arms wide in frustration, looming over Gay like a giant bird trying to force a turnover.
Pinned in, Gay turned his head slightly, glanced down at the distance to the baseline, and quickly figured out exactly where he was.
He shifted his hips to feel out Favors' position, then—without hesitation—exploded upward.
Favors, preparing to crowd him, never expected Gay to go up so suddenly and was caught completely off guard.
Gay powered through Favors, rose high, and hammered the ball through the rim.
"Roar!"
The dunk instantly electrified the Kings' home crowd. Rookies LeVert and Fred VanVleet shot up from the bench in excitement.
"Whoa!"
The play snapped Chen Yilun and Malone back to the court, pulling their attention away from their conversation.
"What did Gay eat today? He's got some serious juice!"
Chen Yilun laughed with his hands in his pockets.
"What else? The old guy finally got his ring—he's just amped!"
Malone joked beside him. "If he hadn't won the title, where else would you see Gay putting up superstar-level plays like this?"
As the league's poster child for the "I'm here to work, not die on the court" attitude, Gay's career had always been about steady performance—good stats, durable, rarely injured, got paid well—but his list of honors was lacking. And that had always been a small but undeniable thorn in his side.
In the NBA, rings are hard currency. No matter how good you are, without one, you're always a tier below. It's not that Gay didn't want to change and chase a championship, but once you get used to coasting, it's hard to flip the switch.
So last season's title finally resolved that lingering regret.
When the shining ring slid onto his finger, all he could think was:
"To repay your golden kindness, I'll fight for you till the end!"
With that mentality, Gay completely let loose. Plays he normally wouldn't bother with became automatic—eyes closed, full send.
Watching Gay tear up the court, LeVert and Fred VanVleet went from excited, to confused, to terrified.
"So this is what the world of the strong looks like…?"
Fred VanVleet shifted uneasily. "Seeing this in person is nothing like TV. Gay is a monster."
"Yeah…"
LeVert looked no more comfortable.
"During training, Gay barely ever forced shots. He was always chill with us rookies. I never imagined he could be this scary."
"What do you think…"
Fred VanVleet swallowed hard.
"How does Gay compare to us?"
"Is that even a question? He could beat the two of us by himself."
LeVert frowned, annoyed that the question even came up.
"So if Gay looks like this and he's still coming off the bench… what chance do we have?"
Fred VanVleet's voice grew softer and softer until the last few words were almost inaudible.
"What the hell are you two thinking?"
A sudden unfamiliar voice jolted them both upright.
Sitting at the far end of the bench was David West—freshly retired and newly added to the Kings' coaching staff—grinning at them.
"It's not as scary as you think."
West scooted closer.
"I watched your scrimmages. You two are fine."
He gestured with his chin. "With your skill level, you'd make the rotation on some weaker teams. Look at the Jazz over there—aren't their young guys on about the same level as you?"
With that perspective, the two rookies finally looked closely at the Jazz roster they'd ignored before.
Sure enough, they immediately felt better.
"It's normal to feel this way. Our team just isn't like most teams."
West sighed softly.
"You two are lucky—you joined a powerhouse right at the start of your careers. Sure, short-term minutes might be hard to come by, but in the long run, this will help your development a ton."
"Being teammates with so many high-level players will speed up your growth. It'll help you stay in the league much longer."