Just as Malone had anticipated, when the Warriors' Curry–Klay lineup was on the floor, even though the Kings' bench unit gave everything they had on defense, the raw talent gap was still there. As a result, the Warriors steadily clawed the score back, trimming the deficit to within 20 points.
"Close enough. Time to start harvesting,"
Malone said as he read the situation on the court, calling out to the two players on the bench.
"Finally!"
Butler, who had been waiting so long he was practically on edge, shot up from the bench in one explosive motion. "I was about to suffocate sitting there!"
Durant, by contrast, remained calm and collected.
"We'll run the same set we used at the start," he said. "Butler, lock down Thompson. Durant, go straight into targeted isolations."
When the Kings' defensive spearhead and offensive spearhead returned to the floor together, the Curry–Klay lineup—already having played half a quarter—was left with almost no ability to fight back.
Completely outmatched in both stamina and physical size, the Warriors gave back the hard-earned points they had just recovered in less than half a quarter.
By the time the fourth quarter arrived, faced with the widening gap, Kerr hesitated briefly before finally pulling his starters, effectively waving the white flag.
Watching Malone calmly orchestrate everything from the sidelines, Chen Yilun smiled faintly.
The current Malone had long since reached the level of "Mastermind Malone," and was arguably even stronger than in the original timeline. In this game alone, purely on a tactical level, Malone completely outclassed Kerr.
Nearly every move Kerr made was already within Malone's calculations.
The final buzzer sounded.
The Kings won decisively, 108–88, with a 20-point margin.
Given the Warriors' offensive firepower, failing to even reach 90 points spoke volumes about how brutally the Kings had shut down their perimeter game.
Durant finished with 26 points, Butler added 23, and Jokić once again delivered a highly cost-effective triple-double.
With an unhappy expression, Kerr came over to quickly shake hands with Malone before leading his players off the court.
"This won't do,"
Chen Yilun said after watching the entire game, thinking for a moment before speaking.
"Look what they've turned my Jokić into. A 'cost-effective triple-double' every single night—he's basically Draymond Green Pro Max at this point. That's unacceptable!"
Chen Yilun knew Jokić's ceiling all too well—a future legend, the strongest player in the world. Now, under Malone, he had practically become a cold-blooded perimeter ball distributor.
Somewhere along the way, Jokić's offensive desire had also plummeted. It was increasingly common for him to finish games with fewer points than assists.
At this point, Jokić seemed completely devoted to organizing the team's offense, utterly indifferent to how many points he scored himself.
"Absolutely not!"
Watching Jokić joking around and bantering with his teammates, Chen Yilun silently made up his mind.
This summer, he'd have Divac put him through another round of military-style training. Those bad habits had to be corrected—no matter what.
Divac: "Alright, alright! I'll train him properly!"
Jokić: "F**k you all! You're just waiting to keep milking me, aren't you?!"
...
Two days after the Kings–Warriors game ended, inside Boston's TD Garden Arena.
LeBron James stared up at the scoreboard, shaking his head in quiet despair.
This year's Celtics were simply too strong. With a roster built around a Big Three plus the twin young stars, they had already pushed the Cavaliers to the brink in the very first quarter.
And now it was the fourth quarter—and James had rested for only two minutes the entire game.
Tyronn Lue had originally planned to give James a break near the end of the second quarter, but the moment James sat down, the Celtics immediately went on an 8–0 run. Before the sweat on his body had even dried, James was forced back onto the court.
At this point, it could be said that the Cavaliers had no true scoring option besides James.
Second-in-command Kevin Love, after constantly cutting weight since joining Cleveland, was nowhere near the level he had shown back in Minnesota.
Meanwhile, James's trusted armed guard, Smith, had been completely lost all game long. Shot after shot clanged off the rim from beyond the arc.
Up to now, he was just 1-for-8 from three-point range, with only 7 points to his name.
Watching James continue to fight desperately on the court, Coach Stevens stood on the sideline with a blank expression, his thoughts unreadable.
"Jayson!"
Stevens suddenly called out.
"In a moment, you're going in for Hayward."
"Got it!"
The still-raw Tatum stood up from the bench.
"Here's what you do,"
Stevens said, pulling Tatum over and pointing at the action on the court as he explained.
"You're guarding James one-on-one."
"Me?"
Tatum froze for a moment, thinking he'd misheard. "Me, guarding LeBron James?"
"I'm a rookie! You want me to take on LeBron one-on-one? Why don't you just throw me at Thanos while you're at it?!"
"I didn't say you had to shut him down,"
Stevens clarified calmly, seeing Tatum's disbelief.
"You and Jaylen will focus on cutting off his outside shooting, force him to drive inside. Once he gets into the paint, you don't have to worry about it—Horford will handle that. Your job is to block his kick-out passes."
Only then did Tatum finally breathe a sigh of relief.
It was terrifying, after all. He wasn't a defender on Leonard's level. Guarding James straight up would've been like throwing an egg at a rock.
But Stevens wasn't assigning a single, simple task. He had broken the responsibility of defending James into multiple parts, distributing them among different Celtics players.
The advantage was clear: everyone handled one piece of the job, all within their own limits, and it avoided giving other Cavaliers players wide-open looks due to excessive double-teaming.
"Remember—if you can't stop him, that's fine,"
Stevens continued, seeing Tatum begin to understand.
"Your most important job is to force James into the paint and make him attack the rim. And don't give him any chances to pass back out—make him take everything himself."
Stevens' plan was ruthless, both tactically and psychologically.
You want to be the lone hero, James? Fine. I'll let you be one. Every possession goes through you—and in the most physically exhausting way possible.
Stevens intended to drain the very last drop of James's stamina.
Sure enough, once Tatum checked in, James was deliberately allowed to score on drives.
But after putting up six straight points, James quickly sensed something was wrong.
Every time he scored, the Celtics immediately pushed the pace, forcing him to sprint back on defense.
In just that short stretch, James felt his energy draining rapidly.
"Trying to wear me down?"
James narrowed his eyes, murmuring to himself as he stared at the Celtics' tightly organized defense.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser