Listening to Chen Yilun's verbal barrage, Wright felt sweat already forming down his back. If he were meeting Chen Yilun alone, he'd have already lost this round.
But next to him, Buford sat with narrowed eyes, silent, as if he'd expected this situation from the start.
"It's good, but—"
Buford suddenly shifted gears.
"LeVert's performance has only been for half a season. I don't need to explain the risks of a small sample size, right? I still have to account for the possibility that LeVert's production drops."
With that one light comment, Buford tossed the problem right back at him.
"You can't put it like that."
Chen Yilun immediately countered.
"The trade value doesn't match. I'd need to use a trade exception just to balance it. I'd be giving you an exception and helping you reduce your salary pressure—how are we supposed to calculate that?"
"And another thing!"
Seeing Buford stay silent, Chen Yilun kept firing words like bullets.
"You say you're taking on the risk of LeVert dropping off? What about me? If my roster weren't thin right now, and if those two weren't old friends, I wouldn't even be at the table. Whether it's Green or Mills, their decline is already irreversible.
Your risk is hypothetical. Mine is real."
After that verbal onslaught, Buford was left speechless.
CJ lifted his eyes slightly to glance at Chen Yilun.
He never expected this. The always-smiling, easygoing Chen Yilun could be this ruthless when negotiating.
While CJ enjoyed the show, Wright was drenched in sweat in the corner.
Was this the kind of thing he would have to deal with in the future? Terrifying. Weren't Chen Yilun and Buford supposed to have a mentor–student bond? But when they argued, they showed absolutely no mercy.
"Talking to you is exhausting."
After the two had sparred for quite a while with no agreement in sight, Chen Yilun straightened his clothes and stood.
"I'm going out for a smoke."
"Wait, I'll come with you."
And with that, they walked out together, perfectly in sync.
"Hey! I smoke too!"
Seeing them both heading out, Wright jumped up to follow—but the moment he lifted off the bench, a hand landed heavily on his shoulder, pinning him back down.
"What do you mean you smoke?"
CJ signaled for Wright to sit. "Didn't you quit ages ago?" he said, all while frantically throwing him meaningful looks.
"When did I quit…"
Wright froze mid-sentence, then glanced meaningfully at the two figures heading outside.
Chen Yilun saying he was stepping out for a smoke was just a coded message to Buford—some things needed to be discussed privately, away from extra ears.
"You, what's going on with that thing you've been doing lately?"
Outside the café, Buford took a deep drag from his cigarette. The harsh smoke mixed with the biting cold wind as it filled his lungs, giving him a brief moment of calm.
"I'm telling you, whatever you're doing—it's going to blow the whole sky open. I won't be able to protect you."
"It's fine, Coach. I know what I'm doing."
Chen Yilun replied with a carefree grin.
"This league doesn't belong solely to Adam Silver. As long as I deliver enough results, he'll have no choice but to bow."
There it is.
Hearing those words, Buford immediately confirmed his earlier suspicions.
This kid really wants to tear everything down—he wants to seize Silver's power.
"So, Coach!"
Chen Yilun held his cigarette between two fingers, watching the ember flicker faintly in the cold wind.
"How about joining me? With you guys, my chances go up."
"Me? No chance."
Buford smiled faintly.
"I'm a man of the old era. My position isn't appropriate, and I can't board your ship anymore."
He wasn't lying. In Chen Yilun's faction, Chen Yilun sat firmly at the top, with the rest being his contemporaries.
If Buford were to join—where would he fit?
In seniority, he was a veteran from the Larry Brown era—a decorated figure, and even Chen Yilun's mentor.
In achievements, he'd won two Executive of the Year awards and built the Spurs' GDP dynasty. In every respect, Chen Yilun could not overshadow him.
So despite being interested in what Chen Yilun was building, Buford still chose to decline.
"Enough about that."
Buford crushed his cigarette and continued.
"Are you in a rush to trade LeVert?"
"Not really."
Chen Yilun tilted his head in thought. His goal in acquiring a veteran was to prep for the playoffs—there was no real urgency.
"Then let's settle it during All-Star. I'll be in Los Angeles anyway."
Buford was choosing delay. If Chen Yilun didn't find a better trade partner by then, he'd come back on his own.
And in the meantime, Buford could closely evaluate LeVert.
If Chen Yilun really wanted to sell, he'd naturally increase LeVert's minutes for inspection.
When the two returned, they had slipped right back into their usual father-son dynamic.
"How long are you staying? It's been ages since you've been back. Coach has to take good care of you."
Buford started chatting the moment he sat.
"I'll stay a few extra days. If Coach is hosting, I can't just leave right away. Haven't had food from those restaurants in San Antonio for so long. I've been craving it."
Wright felt like his CPU couldn't keep up. Moments ago they were at each other's throats, and now they were this harmonious again.
CJ, meanwhile, had a face that clearly said, I knew it.
"Let's get everyone together tonight. Crowder and the others are around. Pretty much everyone from your time on the team. We can call them out for dinner."
"Sounds good!"
Just like that, the discussion wrapped up on a warm, friendly note.
While Chen Yilun was busy socializing in San Antonio, back in Sacramento, Malone received the signal.
Sitting in his office, he let out a long sigh.
Bringing in a veteran would definitely strengthen the team's foundation for defending the title this year—but from any angle, the team was losing value.
If they really wanted to maximize LeVert's trade return, it would have to be next year, when his production stabilized or when he could be extended early using Bird rights. Only then would teams pay real value for him.
"Hopefully everything we're giving up now will be worth it."
Malone sighed.
Everything was for this year's title defense.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser