CJ sat in the team doctor's office, nervously waiting for the final results.
After more than three months of rehab, he'd finally worked his body back into peak condition.
"Your body…"
The doctor's words made CJ's heart leap into his throat. The pause felt like forever.
"You're fully healed. You can rejoin the team anytime."
CJ let out a long sigh of relief. He'd expected this result.
His own trainers had tested him several times and confirmed he was ready. But for some reason—maybe under orders from Chen Yilun—the team doctor had kept holding him back.
"So I can finally play again?"
CJ asked, excitement breaking through his voice. The last three months had been torture—day after day dreaming of returning. At every game he'd sit helplessly on the bench, watching his teammates fight while he could do nothing but cheer.
"You're good to go."
The doctor smiled, then added, "But listen—you've been bottled up for months. Don't go wild out there. Pace yourself."
"I know!" If he weren't still in the office, CJ would've leapt up cheering.
Watching him bounce out the door, the doctor couldn't help but grin. Then he picked up the phone and made a call.
"Hey, Yilun. Yeah, I signed off on his report. He should be ready to play in a couple of days."
He checked the hallway to make sure CJ was gone, then lowered his voice. "Honestly, he was fit two weeks ago. Why'd you make me stall this long?"
The question wasn't unreasonable. Players are assets, and most managers want to maximize them—even rushing them back before they're fully healed. Plenty of careers had been wrecked that way, which is exactly why the Players' Union exists.
"The team chemistry was really solid before,"
Chen Yilun explained over the phone. "Bringing CJ back too soon would've disrupted things. And besides, CJ is my franchise cornerstone. I have to protect him."
Chen Yilun was fiercely protective of CJ. His role might be awkward—he didn't have the raw talent of Booker or Jokić, and he wasn't as consistent as Gay or Butler—but he'd been an All-Star last season. You couldn't treat him like just another starting point guard.
That left Coach Malone uncertain about CJ's long-term role.
But Chen Yilun already had a plan: once CJ signed his second contract, he'd shift him into a super sixth-man role. That could be just as valuable—like Manu Ginóbili back in the day.
For now, though, CJ was sprinting to Malone's office.
"Coach, here's the doctor's report! When can I get back on the court?"
CJ handed it over, his face lit with energy.
"Fully cleared, huh?"
Malone flipped to the conclusion and nodded. "Good. The whole team's been waiting for you."
Then his tone shifted.
"But we're in the middle of the playoff push. You've just come back, and you might not be fully up to speed with the new sets. I talked with Yilun about it. How about we start you off the bench and build up your minutes gradually?"
"The boss wants me to come off the bench?"
As Chen Yilun's most loyal sidekick, CJ instantly relaxed when he heard the name. "No problem! I'll come off the bench. Oden and Casspi are with the second unit, right? I've always meshed well with them."
That answer lifted a weight off Malone's shoulders.
Dropping Chen Yilun's name really worked. Malone had worried CJ might think his growth was being stunted and cause trouble. Instead, it was solved in seconds.
"Perfect. We've got a game tomorrow. Get some rest tonight—you'll be on the court tomorrow."
...
Game day.
The Sacramento Kings were at home against the Oklahoma City Thunder.
The Thunder were once again charging hard for the championship. With Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook—the Durant-Westbrook duo—any opponent had to be on full alert.
"Tonight marks CJ's return to the court after more than 100 days, and the Thunder are at full strength. We're in for a fierce showdown,"
the ESPN commentator announced. "Worth noting, though: CJ isn't in the starting lineup tonight. Could be due to minutes restrictions, or maybe Coach Malone's strategy. Anyway, here we go—the game is underway!"
The Thunder had the opening possession. Westbrook dribbled past half-court, suddenly accelerated off a screen, and attacked the paint. Drawing defenders, he kicked the ball out to Durant, who had popped to the top of the key.
Durant squared up against Gay, faked with a hesitation, then stepped inside the arc and knocked down a pull-up jumper.
The most basic iso play—still nearly unstoppable.
Durant's mix of height, speed, and smooth touch let him attack anyone he wanted.
Defenders as tall as him weren't as quick. Defenders quick enough to stay with him weren't as tall. Almost nobody could truly contest his jumper.
Of course, the Thunder's offense wasn't just isolation.
Their whole foundation came from Durant and Westbrook's ability to shred defenses. Whoever had the ball, the other would end up with a prime iso opportunity.
After a few possessions, Malone made the first adjustment.
"Drop the 3-2 zone!" he shouted to Butler as Durant stood at the free-throw line. "Switch to man-to-man! You take Westbrook. Let Thaddeus Young and Gay rotate on Durant to wear him down!"
Butler nodded, showing he understood. Then he glanced at Westbrook on the other side, a sly grin spreading across his face as he licked his lips.
Like a predator locking onto rare prey.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser