"Karl Malone, John Stockton, what's up with you guys?"
Jerry Sloan started roaring. He couldn't stand watching his team collapse. He had to do whatever it took to get them back on track.
"Don't y'all wanna beat the Knicks? Don't y'all wanna take down that bastard Zhao Dong? You really wanna keep getting humiliated by him over and over again? Pick your heads up, keep your chins high! Y'all are the damn Super Jazz, the strongest warriors out there!"
As he yelled, Stockton was the first to straighten up.
He had always been a fighter. With his physical limitations, there was no way he would've made it this far if he wasn't tough as nails.
Seeing Stockton snap back into it, Sloan exhaled in relief. That was his guy. The strongest fighter he had. That gave him confidence.
"Karl, don't let me down. Don't let John or your teammates down. Stand the hell up and face your biggest enemy. Shut him down, break him, make him fall at your feet!"
He roared at Karl Malone, putting every ounce of his energy into it.
"Hah…"
Malone started breathing heavily, clenching his fists, his whole body shaking.
"Tell me to stand up!"
"Karl, don't let me down!"
Sloan and Stockton yelled in unison.
Malone suddenly jumped up from his seat, eyes bloodshot, the long scar on his chin glaring under the light.
"Zhao Dong!"
He spat out the name like it was poison.
"Alright!"
Sloan let out a breath. They were back.
In the Knicks' locker room, players had Zhao Dong completely surrounded, all eyes locked onto his sneakers.
"Zhao, what brand are those kicks? They're cold as hell! I need a pair ASAP!"
John Starks was hyped.
Everyone else was staring, too. The sneakers on Zhao Dong's feet were crazy—cold, brutal, futuristic. They had this sleek, techy design that made them look almost supernatural.
"Sorry, fellas, these are straight from the R&D department of Zhao Dong Sport Company. They ain't out yet," Zhao Dong said, grinning.
Larry Johnson frowned. "Zhao Dong Sport Company? Hold up—Zhao Dong?"
He turned to Zhao Dong, eyes wide. "Man, don't tell me this is your company?"
"Haha, bingo. I invested in it," Zhao Dong laughed.
Everyone looked shocked.
To them, this was wild. They were grinding for minutes on the court while Zhao Dong already had a whole sneaker company, dropping fire kicks like these?
"How do they feel? They just look good, or do they actually hoop?" Oakley asked.
"Nah, man, these are the real deal. Best shoes I've ever worn," Zhao Dong smirked.
He wasn't lying. The ones dropping soon weren't as elite as these, but even the general releases were miles ahead of anything else on the market.
"Man, you gotta have extras. You go through at least eighty pairs a season. Hook us up!"
Oakley wasn't playing around.
Zhao Dong scratched his head. There were pairs in the R&D lab, but he hadn't brought them. And his own sneakers never wore down, which made it awkward to explain.
"Well, I got some, but not with me. How about I get the R&D team to ship some over?"
"Forget the damn Piaget watch—you better hook us up with sneakers instead!" Oakley huffed.
He was really feeling the design.
"Alright, alright. I'll have them flown in. Two days, tops."
"Then hit 'em up now. Call them!" Oakley demanded.
"Alright, chill, chill."
Zhao Dong pulled out his phone and called Chen Jian, telling him to send a few hundred pairs from the R&D lab.
"Boss, what's the name of these?" Danny Fortson crouched down, gently touching the sneakers like they were holy relics. His face was almost pressed against them.
"Man, get the hell off!" Zhao Dong kicked him over, laughing. "They're just sneakers, not your damn girlfriend."
The whole locker room erupted in laughter.
"Made by Zhao Dong, Silver Demon series. This is the first-gen Silver Demon combat boot. This pair is the original prototype—everything else is its offspring."
Zhao Dong grinned.
"Made by Zhao Dong, first-gen Silver Demon… that's hard!" Allan Houston muttered in admiration, reaching out to touch them—only for Zhao Dong to kick him away.
"No wonder you ain't signing with Nike or Adidas. You really turned them down? Man, where you get the money for this? You a billionaire or something?" Oakley asked.
"You wanna make money? I got an investment fund for you. Instead of blowing your salary on women, put it in this and I promise y'all will be millionaires—hell, maybe even billionaires—before you know it."
"OHHH!"
The locker room exploded in excitement, players yelling like a bunch of wild animals.
Jazz Lineup: Greg Ostertag, Karl Malone, Bryon Russell, Jeff Hornacek, John Stockton
Knicks Lineup: Marcus Camby, Charles Oakley, Zhao Dong, Allan Houston, Charlie Ward
"Marv, most of the media ain't feeling the Knicks' chances to repeat, but Zhao Dong seems confident. How do you see their squad this season?" Matt Goukas asked on the NBC broadcast.
"Compared to those legendary Bulls squads, the Knicks are lacking, Matt," Marv Albert replied. "Look at the paint. Ewing is going to dominate down low. Camby? No way he can handle him. Too skinny.
And the backcourt? Jordan and Kidd together? That's an absolute nightmare for the Knicks' guards. They're gonna get cooked."
Matt Goukas nodded. "It's tough to put it all on Zhao Dong. He's a beast, but this challenge might be too much!"
On CCTV's live broadcast, Sun Zhenping and Zhang Heli were breaking down the lineups of the Knicks and the Bulls.
"This is kind of weird. We're watching the Knicks and Jazz, but we're talking about the Knicks and Bulls. Feels a little off, doesn't it?" Sun Zhenping chuckled.
"Well, the Bulls made crazy moves this offseason. The media's calling them the Super Bulls. Meanwhile, the Knicks lost some key pieces and didn't add much. With that kind of shift, defending the title's gonna be rough," said Zhang Heli.
"And let's not forget, Ewing got injured during the playoffs. That's a wild card," Sun Zhenping added.
"That's really the only thing working in the Knicks' favor. Honestly, Zhao Dong should go back to the low post and dominate. If he does that, he can eat Ewing alive. The man's getting old," Zhang Heli said.
"Yeah, Zhao Dong's rebounding and second-chance scoring is insane," Sun Zhenping replied with a grin.
Meanwhile, over at Duke University in North Carolina, Yao Ming was chilling in his dorm, watching the game with his teammates—Shane Battier, Elton Brand, Corey Maggette, and William Avery.
It was already months into the season, and Coach K had locked in these five as Duke's core lineup. What Yao didn't know was that every single one of his teammates would make it to the NBA, including two No. 1 picks, a lottery pick, and two second-rounders. That's some serious talent.
Before Yao joined, Duke was already close to an NCAA title in '99 but fell short in the championship game against UConn. With him in the mix now, history might be about to change.
"Yao, you think the Knicks can defend their title?" Battier asked, smirking.
"I believe in my guy Zhao Dong," Yao said with a laugh.
His English had gotten solid thanks to the constant practice at Duke.
"Zhao Dong's a beast, no doubt, but the Bulls' lineup this year is straight-up terrifying. I still see them taking the championship," Maggette said.
"Yeah, I'm with him," Brand and Avery nodded.
"We won't know 'til they actually play," Yao said, standing firm.
Battier laughed. He and Yao had built a strong bond—both had good vibes and clicked naturally.
Back at Madison Square Garden, the teams were about to take the court. The arena lights dimmed, with two bright spotlights shining at the tunnel exit.
Players stood on both sides of the corridor, waiting for their intros.
Karl Malone locked eyes with Zhao Dong, trying to look tough.
"Yo, Mailman, you wanna run it back in the offseason?" Zhao Dong asked with a smirk.
Malone's eyes twitched. The fire in his stare flickered, and just like that, the confidence drained from his face.
Turns out, his so-called fire was all surface-level—deep down, the fear Zhao Dong had planted in him still lurked.
"Damn, those kicks are fire!" Jazz small forward Bryon Russell blurted out, eyes locked on Zhao Dong's sneakers.
"Oh, hell yeah, those are sick!"
"Bro, I need those!"
"Me too!"
The sneakers had everyone's attention. The design was just that good.
"Y'all like 'em?" Zhao Dong asked casually.
"Hell yeah!"
Except for Stockton and Malone, the other three Jazz starters all nodded enthusiastically.
"They're called Silver Demon. Droppin' All-Star Weekend. Just wait on it," Zhao Dong grinned.
Outside, the arena host's voice boomed as he started calling players onto the court.
The visiting team came out first. Since it was the season opener, the Knicks crowd kept the boos to a minimum.
"Zhao Dong, your kicks are gonna shake up Nike and Adidas," Oakley said, nudging him.
"Shake 'em? Nah, I'm gonna tank their stock price the second these drop," Zhao Dong laughed.
Now it was the Knicks' turn. The moment Zhao Dong stepped onto the court, the crowd erupted in cheers.
Every camera in the arena zoomed in on his Silver Demon sneakers. The hype was real.
"Yo, what the hell are those?!" Marv Albert exclaimed on NBC live broadcast. "This is insane! Not just cool—super cool! I need a pair, right now! Every other basketball shoe looks outdated next to these."
The jumbotron focused in on Zhao Dong's feet, and the 20,000 fans in the arena—and countless viewers in China and the U.S.—got a crystal-clear view of the Silver Demon.
"Get the factories running at full capacity. Fill every damn warehouse with stock. Double the production lines. Hell, fly to Guangdong and lock in a contract manufacturer NOW!"
In Beijing, at Zhao Dong Sports Company, CEO Chen Jian was barking orders, eyes glued to the broadcast.
Meanwhile, at Nike and Adidas headquarters, executives were scrambling.
"That's a damn masterpiece. Who the hell designed it? Find out now! I want that designer and the brand under us before it even hits the market!" Adidas president Robert Louis-Dreyfus shouted at his team.
Seeing the sneakers gave him a bad feeling. If those kicks got released, they could shake up Adidas' entire basketball division.
Over at Nike, Phil Knight was feeling the same pressure.
"Track down that designer, find out everything about those shoes. If we don't lock this down, it could be a serious problem," Knight ordered.
The second he saw the Silver Demon, he knew it was something special. The design had a cold, brutal, yet sleek aesthetic. It screamed dominance.
"We cannot let those hit the shelves. We shut it down, or we take it for ourselves."
Back at Madison Square Garden, NBA commissioner David Stern was in the building for one reason—presenting the Knicks with their championship rings.
Amid cheers, Zhao Dong slipped on his first championship ring.
"Charles, how's it feel?" he asked Oakley next to him.
"Man, this is unreal!" Oakley grinned, still buzzing with excitement.
It was his first ring, and the feeling was surreal. Meanwhile, Camby and the others who didn't get one yet could only watch with envy.
Zhao Dong clapped his hands, bringing everyone's attention back. "Alright, this ring is a reminder of last season. It's in the books now. Time to put it away and focus on the grind ahead."
The squad nodded, taking off their rings and placing them on the bench.
Tonight was the season opener. Lindsay was in the crowd, and Zhao Dong handed his ring to her for safekeeping.
Ten minutes later, the game tipped off.
Zhao Dong let Camby handle the jump ball. Camby lost the tip, and the Jazz went on the attack.
Jazz center Greg Ostertag set up in the low post on the left wing, battling Camby. Meanwhile, Zhao Dong switched onto Karl Malone, who was setting up in the right block.
Malone didn't stay down low for long—he quickly moved up to set a pick.
Zhao Dong trailed him, keeping tight coverage.
Suddenly, Stockton at the top of the key darted left. At the same time, Jazz wings Bryon Russell and Jeff Hornacek sprinted toward the high post, cutting across each other's paths. Malone slipped in between them, creating a traffic jam. Zhao Dong, chasing him, got caught up in the mess, and Hornacek even hit the deck.
"Elevator screen?" Zhao Dong's instincts kicked in.
Stockton fired the pass to Malone, who caught it in rhythm, rose up, and drilled the jumper from the elbow.
Houston and Oakley were a step too slow—no switch, no contest.
"Damn, double screen action!" Marv Albert called out from the NBC booth.
Matt Goukas chuckled. "That's a sneaky set. It's not used often because it flirts with illegal screens."
"Yeah, but look at how Utah runs it. They use guards instead of bigs to set the picks—makes it quicker to close the screen," Marv added.
"Even so, that was borderline illegal. Zhao Dong nearly squeezed through, but three guys all collided. That easily could've been an offensive foul," Goukas pointed out.
"Tighten up the switches! Zhao, stay glued to Malone!" Coach Nelson barked from the sideline.
Zhao Dong nodded.
He knew the so-called "elevator screen" wasn't common in this era. Usually, it was used to free up shooters for threes. But since the three-ball wasn't as big yet, teams barely ran it. Plus, it had a high chance of drawing moving screen calls—especially when defenders crashed into closing doors. That's why it never caught on, even later when the Warriors dominated.
Knicks ball.
Zhao Dong moved off-ball on the left wing, with Bryon Russell sticking to him like glue. The Jazz weren't putting Malone on him, likely to save his energy.
Russell, at 6'7" and 225 pounds, wasn't quick enough to stay in front. But he was hanging on him, making it tough to shake free.
Didn't matter.
Zhao Dong powered his way inside, sealing his position in the paint to call for the rock. The Jazz collapsed—double-team incoming. Malone lunged at him.
But just as the help arrived, Zhao Dong spun off and elevated into a fadeaway. His size and length did the rest, the shot floating right over Russell's outstretched arm—splash.
His elite turnaround jumper (95-rated) gave him a 30% better chance to lose defenders. Russell got completely burned and couldn't even contest properly.
That was the power of the Gold Badge skill. Combine that with his speed advantage over Russell, and the separation was deadly.
Back on defense, the Jazz ran the same double-screen set.
Not this time.
Zhao Dong read it perfectly. As the Jazz tried to close the elevator doors, he bulldozed through, sending Russell and Hornacek flying. Hornacek even hit the floor again.
BEEP!
Whistle.
The ref jogged over, motioning for Hornacek to get up.
Hornacek had a bad feeling.
Sure enough, once he stood, the ref signaled an offensive screen violation.
"See, this is why this play isn't a staple in the league," Goukas laughed. "It's too easy to get called for moving screens."
But the Jazz weren't about to ditch it just yet.
Instead, they tweaked it—this time using their bigs. Malone and Ostertag set the picks, and Hornacek was now the shooter.
For the first half of the opening quarter, Utah kept running variations of the same set.
Meanwhile, the Knicks were steady on offense. Charlie Ward orchestrated, while Zhao Dong worked off-ball, focusing on clean looks.
Time and time again, he caught near the elbow, taking advantage of his size to score with ease. The Jazz had no real answer, and Russell was getting torched possession after possession.
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