"Rude! Barbaric! He should count himself lucky he wasn't born in my era—I'd have crushed his bones!"
"How is his behavior any different from murder? The league should ban him for life!"
At the post-game press conference, the Old Bone Crusher glared at Mason Jr. and unleashed a torrent of criticism.
Reporters below the stage inwardly scoffed—even if he hadn't been born in your era, Mason's nose was crushed tonight.
"Is this the kind of dirty trick Cawns resorts to?"
"Back in my playing days, if I'd elbowed him, would he even be alive today?"
"Ben's injury needs further evaluation. If anything happens to him, Cousins, you won't sleep soundly again!"
Onseld seized the chance to blast Cousins again, even knowing the incident had nothing to do with him.
It wasn't that Onseld enjoyed stirring the pot—he had no choice.
Taking the moral high ground to accuse his opponent meant the league might at least consider that Mason had initiated the foul when punishing Big Ben....
Early the next morning, the league's official disciplinary decision arrived.
Mason received a one-game suspension, and Big Ben was slapped with a $10,000 fine in addition to his own one-game suspension.
Upon hearing the news, Big Ben's face turned green.
He wasn't afraid of suspension, even if it meant no pay during that period. After all, his total salary was only $150,000, so missing one game would cost him less than $2,000.
But this $10,000 fine? Big Ben genuinely couldn't afford it. All his savings combined didn't even reach $3,000.
Old Grinder had tried to reassure Ben yesterday by citing Malone's example. Still, he'd conveniently forgotten to mention that while Malone had indeed only served a one-game suspension, he'd also been slapped with a $10,000 fine.
Had Ben known that yesterday, he probably wouldn't have slept a wink.
Seeing Ben's expression, more wretched than constipation itself, Lin Yu felt a pang of sympathy. He knew Ben simply couldn't come up with that kind of money.
"Ben, don't worry about the fine. I'll cover it for you in a few days."
Lin Yu had been planning to save up and move out of the basement, but now that plan would have to be postponed.
In his previous life, he'd been dirt poor too, but at least he hadn't sunk to living in a basement. Lin Yu never dreamed that even after reincarnating, he'd still be stuck living underground.
"No way, Coach, I can't take your money." Da Ben shook his head hastily, refusing.
"It's not like it's millions or tens of millions—just ten thousand. Don't forget I've got a stack of Rolexes at home. Selling one would cover it."
Lin Yu started bragging again.
Ben finally accepted without hesitation, expressing his gratitude: "Coach, consider it a loan. I'll pay you back as soon as I have the money."...
Saturday night's game saw the Bullets host the Hawks at home.
With Ben sidelined, the Bullets had no one capable of containing the African giant Dikembe Mutombo, leaving them completely outmatched on the boards.
The backcourt duo that shone against the Hornets last game also underperformed tonight.
The Hawks' strength wasn't limited to the paint; their perimeter defense was equally lethal. Point guard Mookie Blalock was the league's premier defensive point guard, second only to Gary Payton.
Averaging 2.7 steals per game, he led the league in steals this season and had earned multiple All-Defensive First Team honors.
His backcourt partner, All-Star shooting guard Steve Smith, while not primarily known for defense, possesses a defensive intensity that far surpasses that of the veteran Stephen Curry.
With the paint exposed and the perimeter stifled, Lin Yu was powerless against the unfolding situation, forced to watch helplessly as the Bullets crumbled.
Fortunately, the loss wasn't too severe—a 101-94 defeat, just seven points down.
This marked the end of the week Lin Yu had agreed upon with Coach Polin. The team had gone 2-1 over three games, falling short of Lin Yu's expectations. Still, he believed this record should secure him the head coaching position.
The morning after the loss to the Hawks, Lin Yu arrived at the arena bright and early.
Today is Sunday, and Lin Yu has two essential things to do.
The first is to head to Onseld's office in the morning to meet with Bolin.
The second was the weekly random aura draw at 8 PM tonight. Lin Yu felt quite anxious. His smooth week had been thanks to the timely activation of randomly drawn auras, especially the Resolute Strength aura that boosted center power—a key asset for facing opponents.
With the next random aura draw approaching, Lin Yu dreaded drawing three completely useless auras.
With tens of thousands of possible auras, some were undoubtedly useless or had negligible effects. If all three turned out to be ineffective, Lin Yu's next week might not be so smooth.
Riding his beat-up bicycle, he arrived at the club building. Inside the general manager's office, Lin Yu met with Bolin and Onseld.
"Lin, I have to admit, you're a remarkable young man. This past week has been full of pleasant surprises."
Boling smiled warmly as he gestured for Lin Yu to sit beside him.
"That money-making plan you mentioned earlier? We can get started on it soon."
"But before that, we need to discuss your contract."
Hearing this, Lin Yu was overjoyed. This meant they were about to sign him to a guaranteed head coach contract.
Linnam's previous salary was $800,000 per year—already among the lowest in the NBA. Given Bolin's notoriously frugal nature, he wouldn't likely offer a head coach a significantly larger contract.
Lin Yu figured that even if he couldn't secure eight hundred thousand, he should still be able to get a fifty-thousand-dollar annual salary.
"The season's almost over—no need to sign a new contract now. Let's just start from next year. How about a thirty-five-thousand-dollar annual salary?"
"I really envy you, young folks. When I was your age, forget thirty-five thousand—making thirty thousand a year was considered good."
Old Polin genuinely gazed at Lin Yu with an expression of envy.
Lin Yu wondered if he was hearing things. Was Old Polin suggesting he'd continue paying him this year under the assistant coach contract—that would be $220,000?
And only raise it to $350,000 starting next year?
Only now did Lin Yu realize why Bullet fans had such a terrible reputation for Old Polin. They weren't wrong at all.
It was absurdly high.
In his previous life, Lin Yu had heard of head coaches commanding seven-figure annual salaries. He figured that in the 1990s, lower pay was normal, and he'd even lowered his expectations—some teams' lead assistants earned over $500,000.
Yet Bolin's offer still shattered Lin Yu's bottom line.
Seeing Lin Yu's stunned expression, Bolin smiled and stood up. "Take your time to think it over, kid."
"The Bullets are your home. Our doors will always be open for you. If you're ready to sign, reach out to Wes anytime."
With that, he left the office, leaving Lin Yu and Onseld gaping in disbelief.
Bollin's words were smooth as silk, but his actions were utterly despicable.
"This..."
"Lin, this offer is truly outrageous."
Anselde felt ashamed. Last night after the game, he'd excitedly summoned Lin Yu to the office this morning, convinced that no matter how stingy Bolin was, the contract he offered couldn't possibly be less than what Lin Yu had received from Er Zhu. Anselde had even hoped Lin Yu might secure a million-dollar deal.
Instead, he'd been soundly humiliated and now felt deeply guilty toward Lin Yu.
Lin Yu shook his head. "Forget it. 350,000 it is. Seems I have no other choice."
At 26 years old, having left the Bullets, where else could Lin Yu possibly go?
It was precisely this vulnerability that Bolin exploited, ruthlessly driving down Lin Yu's contract value.
"Mr. Onseld, I'll head back now and come back tomorrow to sign the contract."
Lin Yu forced a strained smile. Such a low-ball offer left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Oh, go get some rest. You've been worn out this week."
Onseld sighed as he escorted Lin Yu out of the office.
After returning home, Lin Yu lay motionless on his bed, fretting over how to cover Big Ben's ten-thousand-dollar fine. He didn't have enough cash on hand to cover it.
If all else failed, he'd have to chip in with Big Ben or borrow some from Old Grinder.
It was heartbreaking even to say it—an NBA head coach and a future Hall of Famer struggling to scrape together ten thousand bucks.
He lay there until evening, then got up to boil a bowl of undercooked spaghetti. He slathered on some ketchup and made do with it.
After wolfing it down, it was already around eight o'clock.
"Random weekly aura draw in progress. Please wait thirty seconds, Host!"
Thirty seconds later, Lin Yu pricked up his ears, listening intently.
"Passive Aura ①: Lead-Weighted Dice. Effect: When a player with unlocked affinity enters the game and achieves five positive stats, the Host's bank account randomly increases by $1,000 to $6,000."
"Passive Aura ②: Temporal Fracture. Effect: Rolls back the competitive state of a designated player by five years. The designated player must have a favorability rating above 50."
"Passive Aura ③: Blood of the Berserker. Effect: For every 7% stamina lost by the player in the #3 position, all attributes increase by up to 2%."
Lin Yu felt like he was suffocating. The three random auras he'd obtained this week were so powerful they surpassed his wildest imagination.
Initially, he assumed passive auras merely boosted stats—like the first week's three, which all enhanced player attributes.
Who could have guessed there were so many bizarre auras?
Just as Lin Yu fretted over how to cover Big Ben's ten thousand fine, help arrived when he needed it most. This Lead-Filled Dice proved a veritable wealth-generating tool.
The five key offensive stats were points, assists, rebounds, steals, and blocks.
The Bullets averaged roughly 97 points, 23 assists, 40 rebounds, eight steals, and five blocks per game this season—and that was before Big Ben's rise.
Even if he got the unlucky $1,000 random bonus every time, Lin Yu could still rake in over $100,000 per game.
With four games scheduled for the Bullets over the next week, Lin Yu stands to earn at least $600,000 to $700,000 if everything goes smoothly.
Paying off Ben Wallace's $10,000 fine would be a breeze. Lin Yu could finally find himself a decent place to live and even start working on those favor quests for Legs.