NBA: The Dynasty Crusher (Basketball)

Lindsay smiled and said calmly, "The core function of financial derivatives is simple—to shift money from others' pockets into your own. Whether it's another person or another country, these tools exist to redirect wealth under the illusion of 'financial innovation.' And truthfully, they're harmful to the long-term health of the real economy."

She paused, then added with a smirk, "Some of the derivative products I designed were created specifically to target Feilong Sports' competitors."

President Zhu froze for a moment, then looked up and burst into laughter, unable to contain himself.

Lindsay continued seriously, "Finance is important to national development—no doubt. But it should never be overdeveloped. Look at the United States. Over the next decade or two, capital and talent will flood into the financial and consumer sectors while the real economy—manufacturing, R&D, core industries—gets neglected. The consequences of financial overexpansion will only become more obvious with time."

President Zhu nodded with solemn interest. Though Lindsay was as young as his own granddaughter, she was already a Wall Street powerhouse. He knew to weigh her words carefully. It was exactly why he had brought her in as a special advisor to the WTO negotiation team.

"But," Lindsay continued, "not over-developing finance doesn't mean neglecting financial security. Without that, we're just an ATM for financial hegemons."

President Zhu's expression turned serious. He didn't need reminding—he still remembered the financial crisis that had swept across Asia. It had knocked Southeast and East Asian economies back by twenty years in mere months.

"Yes," he said quietly. "That's power. And I agree with you."

Lin Changdi stepped forward. "Mr. President, after we join the WTO, our first national objective is to build the largest industrial system in the world. We want to become Earth's factory floor."

"Our second step," Lindsay added, "is to establish a core of high-tech enterprises—an industrial system that captures high value, not just low-cost labor."

President Zhu nodded. "And the third step?"

"Pricing power," Lin said.

"Pricing power?" President Zhu looked puzzled.

Lindsay explained, "To become the world's factory, we must import massive quantities of raw materials. But who sets the prices for those materials? Right now, it's not us. It's their market—we simply accept what they quote."

President Zhu sat in silence, listening intently.

"Once we become exporters on a massive scale," Lindsay continued, "we enter a seller's market. But again—pricing power is held by the West. Whether we buy or sell, we're always on the losing end. We buy high and sell low, even though we're the world's largest producer."

"Pricing power..." President Zhu repeated under his breath.

"Exactly," Lin said. "Pricing power stems from multiple factors—most importantly, commodity trading. And we don't have a commodity exchange market strong enough to influence global prices."

President Zhu recalled, "We started with the Zhengzhou grain market in 1990. Then came the Shenzhen Nonferrous Metals Exchange in 1991... but it's still underdeveloped."

Lindsay nodded. "We need futures markets, stock index futures, and regulated derivatives. Not to speculate wildly, but to hedge, protect, and control our economic foundation."

President Zhu slowly exhaled. Then he smiled.

"You've given me plenty to think about. Let's negotiate well."

"Then let's go all in," Lindsay said with a confident nod.

---

October 29 – Wall Street and Madison Square Garden

U.S. stock markets opened with high volume and closed even higher, up 0.75%. To the average investor, it looked like a booming bull market.

But Lindsay saw through the mirage.

It was a last-ditch cash-out—the mainstream funds hadn't exited fully yet. The smoke and mirrors of fake growth still lingered.

That same morning, negotiations for China's WTO accession officially began.

---

9:00 AM – Knicks Training Facility

Zhao Dong arrived at the team's private facility, flanked by a Storm investment broker and his assistant.

As soon as he stepped onto the practice court, Danny Fortson called out, "Boss!"

Zhao Dong nodded, then shook hands with the coaching staff and front office before turning to his teammates, who quickly huddled around.

"Let me introduce someone," he said. "This is Gurul, from Storm."

"Oooooooh!"

The team erupted into excited cheers. They already knew what was coming.

Gurul opened a sleek silver briefcase and removed a thick stack of crisp contracts.

"One per player," he announced. "Limit is one million. It's an open-ended fund—invest what you want. But once you sign, you've got 24 hours to wire the funds. After that, the offer expires."

Zhao Dong handed out the contracts personally.

"I'm in," Fortson said, snatching his like it was a golden ticket.

"Boss, I... I'm in too, right?" John Wallace asked nervously. He'd just rejoined the Knicks and didn't want to miss out.

Zhao Dong smiled. "Everyone gets one. Go grab it."

"Thanks, Boss!"

More cheers erupted. Even the role players couldn't hide their grins. Zhao Dong treated every Knick like family.

The coaching staff and execs nearby watched with a mix of admiration and envy. But they knew the rule—this was for the players only.

Charles Barkley grabbed a contract, scrawled his signature, and circled the full million-dollar investment.

Then, grinning like a kid with a cheat code, he walked up to Zhao Dong and whispered, "Hey man, any chance I could double-dip? Didn't Mrs. Lindsay just drop a fresh recruitment round?"

Zhao Dong chuckled. "Sure. But dinner's on you tonight—top spot in Manhattan."

"You got it!" Barkley said, beaming.

Then Zhao Dong squinted at him. "Wait a second… Charles, how much do you weigh right now?"

Barkley hesitated. "Uh… 270 pounds?"

"Twenty pounds up?" Zhao Dong narrowed his eyes. "You're supposed to be the Round Mound of Rebound, not the Flying Pig of MSG."

"I can still fly at 270!" Barkley protested.

"Looks more like crash landing to me. What happened, man? You win a ring and suddenly you stop training?"

"I'll drop it! I swear! Give me a week—"

"Nope." Zhao Dong reached over and yanked the signed contract out of Barkley's hands.

"Wait, what?!"

"Investment revoked until you're back in shape. And forget that dinner too."

Barkley looked like someone had taken his post-game buffet.

Zhao Dong turned to the team, holding the contract up.

"Listen up! Barkley is the example now. Anyone who doesn't take the season seriously, who lets himself go in the offseason, who slacks in training, who doesn't play hungry for another championship—doesn't get an investment share. Got it?"

Heads nodded all around. Everyone got the message.

"This is a dynasty team," Zhao Dong said. "If there's a second Barkley, I won't just pull your investment—I'll have the front office trade your ass."

The entire gym fell into a stunned silence.

No one expected Charles Barkley—a Hall of Famer and household name—to be dressed down like a G-League rookie in front of the whole team.

Zhao Dong's presence filled the room like a thunderstorm.

"Do you all understand now?" he barked.

"Yes!" the team shouted in unison.

From the sidelines, the Knicks' management and coaching staff exchanged satisfied glances. The scene may have been intense, but it was necessary. With a leader like Zhao Dong enforcing discipline, the locker room would be rock solid this season.

Because no matter how talented the roster, a championship team collapses the moment the locker room fractures.

Zhao Dong paced slowly across the hardwood, eyes sweeping over his teammates.

"We've built a dynasty over the past three seasons," he said, voice steady but stern. "And now some of you are getting soft. Complacent. Relaxed. Let me make this clear—my goal hasn't changed. I'm here to win it all. Again."

He turned toward Barkley without hesitation.

"And that goes for everyone. Including Charles."

Barkley's face flushed crimson. Inside, he cursed silently.

Alright, Zhao Dong… are you done humiliating me yet? I'm still a damn superstar, not a scrub.

Zhao Dong's tone sharpened.

"Anyone—anyone—who dares to stand in the way of that goal will be removed. I don't care who you are. This is about the team. This is about the ring."

His voice thundered across the gym, reverberating like a final warning.

Five minutes later—and a gallon of shouting—Zhao Dong finally relented. He glanced back at Barkley, whose face had drained of color and whose spirit looked deflated.

Then, with a snap of his fingers, he turned the page.

"Get changed. The New York Gentlemen are back."

A line of bodyguards entered the gym, rolling out silver suitcases and placing one in front of each player.

"Charles, come with me," Zhao Dong said.

He pulled Barkley aside.

Barkley sulked. "Man, I lost all my dignity today."

Zhao Dong crossed his arms.

"You're a superstar. You should be the example, not the warning label. I gave you that contract out of respect. You embarrassed me by not taking care of yourself."

"I'll fix it," Barkley said. "I'll cut the weight."

Zhao Dong didn't respond. He just nodded.

---

One Hour Later – Knicks Media Day Press Conference

The Knicks walked onto the stage dressed in custom-tailored suits and matching black sunglasses. On top of each head sat a crisp, black gentleman's top hat.

A hundred cameras fired like machine guns.

Click. Click. Click.

The flashbulbs lit up the stage as if it were the Oscars.

"Zhao Dong, what's the Knicks' goal for the upcoming season?" asked Thomas, the team's beat reporter.

"Defend the crown," Zhao Dong replied curtly.

"Zhao, this year's roster looks thinner than last season's championship team. Will you be playing inside or on the perimeter?"

CCTV's Yang Yi held the mic.

"I'll be inside for the most part," Zhao Dong answered.

"Zhao Dong, what percentage of Storm's new fund recruitment has been completed?"

A reporter from the New York Times fired off the third question—completely unrelated to basketball.

"Next question," Zhao Dong replied flatly, ignoring him.

The moderator turned to select another reporter, only to freeze mid-motion.

Wall Street Journal? How the hell did they get credentials?

He immediately pivoted to the New York Sports Daily instead.

"Zhao Dong," the new reporter asked, "the U.S. stock market's been climbing. Does Mrs. Lindsay still believe a bear market is coming?"

Zhao Dong sighed, rubbing his temples.

"You're a sports reporter," he deadpanned. "Not Wall Street Journal. You sure you didn't enroll in the wrong major?"

The room chuckled.

The reporter shrugged. "But it's the biggest news in the world right now—bigger than the NBA season."

"We need answers, Zhao!" a few reporters shouted.

Even the Knicks front office looked exasperated. The press conference was slowly becoming a Storm Fund Q&A.

Zhao Dong shook his head and finally relented.

"Look, I've already said this before. Lindsay's position hasn't changed. If you're invested in U.S. stocks, you better hedge—or say a prayer."

With that, the press conference wrapped up early.

---

October 30 – ESPN Championship Odds Released

The 1999–2000 NBA season would tip off on November 2nd, and ESPN released its annual Championship Predictions.

Despite losing several core players, the Knicks were still ranked #1, with a 51% probability of winning the title.

#2 went to the San Antonio Spurs, last year's Finals runner-up. Their twin towers were still dominant, and their new backcourt additions made them dangerous. With the Knicks' internal turmoil, the Spurs were expected to push hard, with a 45% title shot.

#3 were the Los Angeles Lakers. With Shaquille O'Neal and Ben Wallace anchoring the paint, their biggest weakness—interior defense—had been fixed. Apart from some uncertainty at point guard, this five-star lineup was ESPN's most balanced team. They were given a 44% title chance.

#4 and #5 were the 76ers and Pacers, both barely breaking the 40% line.

These five made up the first tier of contenders.

The second tier included: Chicago Bulls, Miami Heat, New Jersey Nets, Portland Trail Blazers, and the Phoenix Suns.

But then—drama.

---

New Mavericks owner Michael Jordan was outraged.

"We've got John Stockton. Finley. A rising Dirk Nowitzki. Cedric Ceballos. And championship center Wang Zhizhi," he told reporters. "We're not weak. We're top-tier. You'll regret underestimating us."

ESPN didn't respond—but his complaint caught fire.

Zhao Dong was asked to weigh in.

"The Mavericks will definitely make the playoffs," Zhao said. "They've got talent and chemistry. A different kind of team, but a real threat."

With Zhao Dong backing the claim, ESPN scrambled.

By midnight, the Mavericks were bumped into second-tier status, placed right behind the Heat and just ahead of the Nets.

Jordan was thrilled. His public tantrum had worked—but this wasn't about ego.

It was about broadcast time.

---

October 31 – National TV Broadcast Schedules Released

The NBA officially announced its 1999–2000 national television schedule across NBC, TBS, and TNT.

#1 – Knicks

68 nationally televised games.

All 41 home games live. Only 14 away games excluded.

#2 – Lakers

53 national games.

#3 – Bulls

51 games.

#8 – Mavericks

37 games. Up from 21 last season.

Jordan's protest paid off. His team jumped from fringe status to media darling overnight.

#9 – Nets

33 games. Led by Yao Ming, their media presence skyrocketed. If the Mavericks hadn't intervened, they might've cracked the top 6.

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