The headlines were everywhere:
"Down 1–3, the Bulls are about to get bounced in the Eastern Conference Finals."
"Zhao Dong goes off again — Jordan's Bulls on the verge of elimination!"
"Internal chaos rocking the Bulls, collapse inevitable!"
"Chicago's dynasty crumbling — a rebuild is around the corner!"
"Jerry Krause, architect of the Bulls' dynasty, regrets pushing out Zhao Dong, throws blame at Jordan!"
"Legendary coach shades the front office: 'Even a fool could manage better.'"
The next day, media outlets across the United States were going crazy hyping up the Bulls' fall and their locker room drama.
When Jordan made his comeback two years ago, America's top economic guy had once said Jordan's return could create 20 million jobs. Whether that was exaggerated or not, it showed just how massive Jordan's influence was in the States.
Now, with Jordan about to get bounced again by the Knicks, the Bulls facing a collapse, and Zhao Dong blowing up on the biggest stage, the shockwaves were unreal.
A Chinese basketball commentator named John Lee even dropped an article in the Chicago Sports Journal, saying:
"The entire league needs to unite and treat Zhao Dong as public enemy number one. Otherwise, a Chinese baller will stand above Americans."
That article blew up, getting reprinted by a lot of outlets and even picking up some support.
But this was still the era when America was all about free and open ideas — the hardcore conservatism hadn't really kicked in yet. So a lot of people clapped back, and most mainstream media outlets stayed away from it.
Especially the New York press — they didn't even touch it. Without New York jumping in, the whole thing didn't turn into a bigger mess.
Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Zhao Dong was chilling in Lindsay's room when he came across the article. Just reading it made him feel sick.
"Find someone to dig into this clown," Zhao Dong said coldly. "If he's got a dirty background, we're gonna end him."
"Honey, don't waste your energy on people like that," Lindsay said sweetly, brushing his arm. "I'll make a few calls later."
With their status now, it was easy. One word, and people would handle it.
At the Bulls' headquarters though, it was straight-up chaos.
Ewing and Rodman were both confirmed out with injury relapses — no chance they'd play in Game 5.
McGrady wasn't ready yet. Off the bench, they basically just had Kerr.
With only Jordan and Kidd left standing, their odds of winning were basically dead.
Another Eastern Conference Finals flameout was on the horizon.
And with Jerry Krause dragging Jordan in public, and the media clowning them left and right, Jordan finally snapped.
"Man, fuck you, you fat pig!" Jordan roared inside the HQ. "You might as well go fishin' and use your fat ass for bait! I'm telling you, it's either you or me in this building!"
Everyone in the building was frozen, scared to even breathe.
BANG!
The door to Krause's office slammed open. Jordan stormed out like a damn hurricane.
About ten minutes later, team owner Jerry Reinsdorf stepped inside the office.
Krause looked up, dead tired, and gave a bitter smile. "Jerry, you here to fire me?"
Reinsdorf sat down across from him, sighing heavily.
Silence.
"You know this is pretty much over," Reinsdorf said after a minute. "We need to figure out the next move."
Krause sighed. "You're saying the plan's shot, huh?"
Reinsdorf nodded slowly. With Jordan's personality, there was zero chance he'd stick around to rebuild.
Krause forced a smile. "Jerry, I left you something — Kidd and McGrady. Take care of them. The Bulls can bounce back fast if you build around those two."
Reinsdorf stood up. He looked like he wanted to say something, but just gave up and walked out silently.
Krause chuckled bitterly. No way Reinsdorf had real options — Jordan was a god in Chicago. If they didn't try to bring him back, the fans would lose their minds.
Later that night, Reinsdorf personally invited Jordan to his home, trying to fix things. But Jordan was locked in.
"Jerry, I can't be in the same building as that guy anymore," Jordan said bluntly. "It's me or him. You decide."
At 11 PM, over in the Western Conference, the Jazz knocked off the Lakers and grabbed a 3–2 lead, sitting on match point.
Then, on the night of May 28th, at the United Center, the inevitable happened.
As the final buzzer sounded, 2,000 traveling Knicks fans erupted, celebrating with the team.
Four games to one — the Knicks eliminated the Bulls and punched their ticket to the '97-'98 Finals.
Zhao Dong clocked out after three quarters, dropping a triple-double:
33 points, 17 boards, 14 dimes in 36 minutes — his first trip-dub of the playoffs.
His series numbers were even scarier:
52 points
41 points
53 points
51 points
33 points
That's an insane 46 points per game on 70% shooting — absolutely monstrous scoring and efficiency.
On top of that, he averaged 12.6 free throws a game, a force of nature in the paint. Only the Big Shark could match that level of dominance.
The Knicks went nuts. The Bulls?
Completely shattered.
The vibe at the Bulls' postgame press conference was grim. But to their credit, all the main players showed up.
A Chicago Business reporter stood up and asked, "Michael, your contract's up. Chicago wants you to stay. Can you give us an answer?"
Jordan looked out at the room full of reporters. Then he dropped a bomb:
"Sorry. I'm not re-signing with the Bulls."
GASP!
The whole room exploded in shock.
Even the reporters, hardcore Chicago guys, felt their stomachs drop hearing it.
The Bulls' collapse didn't stop there. Jordan wasn't the only one whose contract ran out — Phil Jackson and Rodman's deals were up too.
Facing a bunch of questions from the media, Phil Jackson said, "Like Michael, I've thought about it. I need a break for a while, so I'm leaving."
Rodman, always doing his own thing, didn't seem to care much about getting eliminated and shrugged, "No point sticking around. I'm out."
"Ewing, what about you?" a reporter asked.
"I still got two years left on my contract," Ewing said with a stone-cold face.
"The Bulls really fell apart," a lot of reporters sighed at the scene.
"Man, Zhao Dong is a monster. He stopped the Bulls dead in their tracks, just like he said he would. Dude's crazy strong!" Yang Yi in the crowd exclaimed.
Meanwhile, back at the Knicks' press conference, the vibe was totally different.
"Zhao Dong, even though nobody really believed in you guys, the Knicks blew out the Bulls. What do you think made the difference?" a reporter asked.
"You guys underestimated us and hyped up the Bulls too much," Zhao Dong said with a grin.
"I said it before the season even started: our lineup's stacked — just as strong, if not stronger than last year's. The Bulls? Man, they're just fake tough. Ewing's not what he used to be, Rodman's always been mid in the playoffs, and Jordan's slowing down. I don't see how they were ever gonna beat us."
"But in this game, after two of your guards went down, you ditched Fordson and Billups, and Ben Wallace didn't play. Basically you abandoned the team you built this season. Does that mean you gave up on this roster?" another reporter pressed.
"Fordson and Big Ben sat out for tactical reasons. We needed guys who could stretch the floor and knock down shots to break the Bulls' defense. As for Billups — he's a rookie. Still needs some seasoning," Zhao Dong explained.
"Zhao Dong, who do you wanna face in the Finals?" a reporter threw out.
"Doesn't matter," Zhao Dong laughed, spreading his hands. "I don't pick my opponents — whoever shows up, they're getting cooked."
"How do you feel about the Knicks' current roster?" another reporter asked.
Zhao Dong thought for a second, then said, "Honestly, it was still tough taking down the Bulls, especially with Larry Johnson, Allan Houston, and Hu Weidong hurt. We're short-handed, and we're all logging crazy minutes. Everyone's tired.
Luckily, we finished the Eastern Conference Finals 4-1. That gives us some time to rest and hopefully get our injured guys back for the Finals."
"Coach, will those injured players be ready in time for the Finals?" a reporter asked.
Old Nelson smiled and said, "Shouldn't be a problem. All three of them — their recovery's going well so far."
"Mr. Grunfeld, will the team trade Danny Fortson or Billups?" a reporter asked.
Ernie Grunfeld chuckled, "Nah, they're not on the market."
"Zhao Dong, word is the MVP announcement is coming before the Finals. Any expectations?" a reporter asked.
"I mean, come on," Zhao Dong said with a smirk. "If it's not me, who else is it gonna be?"
"Zhao Dong, do you really think the Bulls are finished?" another reporter asked.
"Yeah, it's possible."
"So do you think Jordan's gonna leave Chicago?"
"You're asking the wrong guy. Ask Jordan that," Zhao Dong shrugged.
"As a player, what's your stance on the upcoming labor negotiations? And as a businessman and sponsor for a lotta players, what's your role?" a reporter asked.
Zhao Dong paused for a moment and then said, "Labor negotiations are wild — nobody knows how long this thing's gonna drag out. Hopefully it gets settled quick. That's my take as a player.
As for business, that's different. That's not my role inside the league, so I'm not getting involved in league stuff like that."
In his head, Zhao Dong knew — this lockout was gonna be brutal, lasting more than half a year. The new season wouldn't start until February, and there would only be 50 games. The All-Star Game? Cancelled.
Jordan? Probably gonna retire again because of this whole mess.
Eight months until the new season starts.
Zhao Dong started thinking: should he pull a Jordan and take a break? Maybe go chase his other love — football?
The New York Jets maybe? Play a season with them? Or just show up for a few games, then dip back into basketball when the lockout ends?
"Zhao Dong, breaking news — Jordan just officially refused to re-sign with the Bulls, Phil Jackson and Rodman confirmed they're out too. The Bulls are officially done!" a reporter shouted.
"If that's true, not surprised at all," Zhao Dong said with a smile. "End of an era. Teams that ruled gotta fall eventually."
"Zhao Dong, rumors say some Knicks players whose contracts are expiring might leave after the season?" a reporter asked.
"Could happen," Zhao Dong said casually. "Everyone's got their own path. Gotta respect that."
With the Bulls eliminated, Zhao Dong completed his "Superteam Sniper" mission that was set at the start of the season — he earned a reward: a one-time full recovery from a serious injury.
Right now it didn't seem important, but later, it could save his career — like hitting the reset button on his body.
"The Bulls collapsing is symbolic. It's the end of one era and the start of another."
"Even if he lost, Jordan's still the best player in the world."
"Who's gonna be the next Michael Jordan?"
The Bulls' collapse went viral worldwide overnight.
Media outlets in Europe and China blew it up immediately.
The next day, North America went crazy.
From newspapers to TV to radio, every outlet blasted the news non-stop.
By noon, the Knicks touched down back in New York.
Thousands of Knicks fans packed the airport to welcome them home, the traffic jam stretched all the way to the city — everything was gridlocked.
Meanwhile, back at NBA headquarters, Commissioner David Stern had just finished a tough conversation with the Bulls' owner.
If Jordan really wasn't re-signing, the worst-case scenario — Jordan retiring — might actually happen, especially after back-to-back playoff eliminations by Zhao Dong and the Knicks.
Of course, after losing to Zhao Dong back-to-back, knowing Jordan's unbreakable spirit, there's no way he's retiring. From that angle, the rise of Zhao is actually a good thing.
He just hopes the Bulls can lock Jordan down and stack up a squad that can really compete.
And he believes Nike's gonna throw everything they got at it too.
At this point, Nike's top brass were blowing up Jordan's phone like crazy — but MJ? His phone stayed dead silent.
"Get the hell out there and find him! Keep fighting!"
Facing the assistant who came in to report, Nike president Phil Knight snapped harshly, ditching his usual calm tone.
Right now, he was seriously panicking.
If Jordan really walked away again outta frustration, it would be game over for Nike.
Last time MJ retired, it already hurt Nike bad. Now, with Zhao Dong's Zhao Dong Sports coming for their market share hard, if Jordan bailed again, Nike would lose their crown jewel. Zhao Dong would take over the league, and Nike would take an L the size of Waterloo.
Sure, since Zhao Dong was Chinese, Knight wasn't too stressed about Jordan's cultural clout getting washed away. But the first-gen Silver Demon sneakers? They were already killing it on-court, and way better than Nike's tech. No doubt, Nike was losing ground fast.
Right now, it was simple:
Find Jordan.
Convince him to stay.
Then rebuild a killer team around him.
Jordan had already thrown it out there before — he wanted a share of the profits from his signature line. If that's the price? Fine. Make it happen.
Meanwhile, over at Adidas HQ, CEO Herbert Hainer sat deep in thought.
Should he help Nike out?
Or should he just kick 'em while they're down?
Or maybe, just sit back, chill, and watch the whole show?
It all came down to one thing:
Who was Adidas' real enemy?
"Nike's the hometown brand. Zhao Dong's Zhao Dong Sports... that's straight outta China," he muttered.
"When Jordan retired last time, yeah, Nike got hit. But Nike had already built their empire. Even if Jordan dipped now, even after losing to Zhao Dong, the blow to Nike would be manageable."
"But Zhao Dong Sports? They're still climbing.
If Zhao Dong wins again, maybe even builds a dynasty…
Zhao Dong Sports is gonna lock down North America too.
After that? No stopping 'em."
"And that Silver Demon tech..."
After thinking it through, Hainer made up his mind.
Team up with Nike.
Help build some real juggernauts to challenge the Knicks.
Take down Zhao Dong and Zhao Dong Sports before they got too deep.
If they could even push Zhao Dong into a financial crisis?
Perfect.
Swoop in, buy 'em up, and snatch that Silver Demon technology.
But there was one rule:
Help Nike just enough to crush Zhao Dong
Not enough to let Jordan or Nike run wild.
Bottom line?
Adidas had two enemies now:
Nike.
And Zhao Dong Sports.
Playing the snake was gonna be Herbert's main game plan for this secret partnership with Nike.
---
When Zhao Dong got home, Lindsay was already back.
"Honey, Chen Jian called," Lindsay said. "There's talk among some of the top execs. They want the company to go public. And some of them are asking for stock shares."
Zhao Dong raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"
"Having executives hold dividend-paying shares is standard for big international companies," Lindsay explained. "It ties their interests to the company's long-term success."
"You're in favor of it?"
"I'm good with giving them dividend rights. But we've got more than enough operating funds. We don't need to go public just to hand out dividend shares. We can just give them the shares now without listing," Lindsay said carefully.
"So you're saying...?"
"I'm saying we need to be careful."
There was a glint of suspicion in her eyes.
"If they know they'd only get dividend shares — not tradable ones — even if we listed, why are they pushing so hard for it? Their motives deserve a closer look."
"Got it," Zhao Dong said coldly.
"Tell Chen Jian: we'll consider going public, but haven't decided where yet. Could be China, Hong Kong, Singapore, even the U.S. We want suggestions from the executives — including him."
He knew damn well what had happened to too many Chinese companies after listing in America:
Foreign capital grabbing controlling stakes.
Domestic profits bleeding out.
This time?
Not a chance.
"You don't trust Chen Jian?" Lindsay teased.
"Don't matter if I trust him or not. I only care about results," Zhao Dong said bluntly. "Zhao Dong Sports didn't rise up because of a bunch of suits. If they piss me off, I'll fire every last one of them."
"Alright," Lindsay smiled. "I'll let him know."
---
Zhao Dong grabbed his phone and dialed his older brother Zhao Dacheng.
It was deep into the night in Beijing.
The phone buzzed loud on the nightstand.
"Who the hell's callin' this late?" Zhao Dacheng grumbled, grabbing the phone half-asleep.
"Brother, it's me."
"Oh, damn, bro! You forget we're twelve hours apart or somethin'?"
"It's important."
"Alright, talk to me," Zhao Dacheng said, sitting up and rubbing his face.
"Some of the Zhao Dong Sports senior management is pushin' for a U.S. listing. You hear anything?"
"Yeah, actually," Zhao Dacheng said. "One of the VP guys in Sales hit me up about it. Said companies can only 'maximize profits' if they list in the States. Wanted me to convince you."
"You didn't think to tell me?"
"I figured it wasn't my place. You call the shots. I stay outta that."
"Listen, bro.
Keep an eye out.
Especially for anyone pushing hard for a U.S. IPO."
"You're thinkin' they're sellouts?"
"Exactly."
"Got it. I'll keep my ear to the ground," Zhao Dacheng promised, pounding his chest.
"No way I let those bastards sell us out."
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