The moment Chen Yilun finished speaking, Ranadivé's sharp gaze locked onto him.
His meaning couldn't have been clearer.
Small maneuvers under the salary cap had already reached their limit. If they wanted to go further, the boss would need to spend more.
Glancing at the roaring arena, Ranadivé's eyes gradually burned with excitement.
"I have full confidence in your ability."
Without hesitation, Ranadivé spoke. "Every goal you set last offseason, you've delivered. This year's financials also exceeded expectations."
"Go ahead—do whatever you need. As long as you don't go completely overboard, I'll back you all the way."
Money in hand brings peace of mind.
Since Chen Yilun had taken charge of the Kings two years ago, the franchise had soared—both on the court and financially, far surpassing previous levels. That's why Ranadivé was so generous now.
And with the team reaching the Western Conference Finals in such a brutal West, he knew it was time to go all in.
"Those are the words I wanted to hear."
Chen Yilun laughed heartily and stood.
"Don't worry. I'll make this the league's most popular and profitable team."
"And the record can't be neglected either."
Ranadivé's eyes gleamed. "We need to bring back a championship."
"No problem. If I can't bring back a title, then I don't deserve to be the GM."
After Chen Yilun spoke, Ranadivé didn't respond right away. Instead, he fell into a long silence.
By the time Anjali tilted her head curiously at her father, Ranadivé finally said:
"Speaking of which, Yilun… maybe you shouldn't be the GM."
"Hahaha, sure… wait, what?"
Chen Yilun's smile froze as he stared in shock.
So this old man wanted to kick him aside after using him? The team was finally on track, and now he wanted to pull the ladder away?
"No, no—you've got it wrong!"
Seeing Chen Yilun's expression shift from confusion to anger, Ranadivé quickly realized how badly his words could be misunderstood. He stood up at once to explain.
"I mean, I want to promote you further."
"Oh, that's what you meant."
Chen Yilun's flushed face immediately cooled. "My dear boss, what exactly does 'further' mean?"
His expression changed so fast it would put even a master of face-changing opera to shame.
"Ahem." Ranadivé cleared his throat. "You've worked tirelessly for this team the past two years. Technically you're the GM, but you've basically been handling all the operations as well.
Since your contract is about to expire, I was thinking we could renew it this summer. You've earned it—why not take the role of President of Basketball Operations too?"
"Not hard at all, not hard at all."
Chen Yilun laughed loudly as he stood. "It's all for the team's growth. Working harder is only natural."
As the saying goes: At a low salary I'd complain, at a decent salary I'd just work, but at a huge salary I'd grind nonstop without sleep.
With the PBO position, not only would his salary skyrocket, but Chen Yilun would also officially become the man just below the boss, holding absolute authority from players to management.
And he hadn't even turned 30 yet—something unheard of in league history.
"Do your best. I'm leaving the team in your hands."
Ranadivé patted Chen Yilun's shoulder like a seasoned elder. "I'll probably be busy this summer and won't be able to keep an eye on everything. When I return, I expect a pleasant surprise!"
Seeing the team's rise like a rocket, Ranadivé also had his own plans.
Though he was the majority owner, some shares were still scattered among minor shareholders. This summer, he intended to buy them all back, bringing the franchise fully under his control.
Chen Yilun hummed a tune as he walked back to his office.
His only goal today had been to nudge Ranadivé toward paying the luxury tax.
He hadn't expected a bonus: a promotion to President of Basketball Operations.
Although Chen Yilun's family was wealthy, they weren't the kind of top tycoons who could casually buy a franchise outright.
Even after his rebirth, his small investments couldn't provide the leap in capital or influence he needed in the short term.
So his career plan had always been clear:
First, become the best professional possible. Then, step by step, climb toward team ownership.
"What's with you? You look like you swallowed a jar of honey—you're way too happy."
Malone, still gloomy after two straight losses, couldn't help but tease when he saw Chen Yilun grinning like springtime.
"Hehehehe!"
Chen Yilun stared at Malone for a long while. "Can't tell you yet. You'll find out soon."
Since the playoffs weren't over, he hadn't announced his promotion widely.
...
Fueled by their home crowd, the Kings played with unity in Game 4, rallying together to secure the crucial win.
Butler embodied the ironman spirit of the league, playing the entire game with just three minutes of rest.
"Excellent! We're on a roll now—don't lose this momentum!"
In the locker room, Malone loosened his collar, clapping his hands as he fired up the players. The game had been so intense that his own voice was hoarse from shouting on the sidelines.
On the other side, Butler sat silently with thick ice packs on both legs, lips sealed.
As the team leader, he should have been the one to deliver the speech—but he was simply too exhausted, without even the strength to speak.
"We've pushed the Warriors right to the edge of the cliff!"
Sensing Butler's condition, Gay stepped forward at just the right moment.
"We're the underdogs, with no pressure. Next game's the decider—let's go in there and take a big bite out of them!"
"Yes!"
CJ, Booker, and Ben joined in, voices rising.
"Let's kick their asses!"