April 15, midday.
Jazz head coach Jerry Sloan pulled no punches in front of the media:
"Basketball's a team game at the end of the day. Zhao Dong's crazy one-on-one skill set has turned Knicks games into 'one man show, four-man audience' situations. Honestly, he's more destructive than Jordan was in '86–'87. Something's gotta change. We need some rules to bring balance back—yeah, I'm talkin' about anti-isolation rules."
He wasn't sugarcoating it—Sloan was flat-out calling for the league to hit Zhao Dong with a modern-day "Jordan Rule."
And he wasn't alone. The support came fast, with some major names backing him up—Bulls GM Jerry Krause, Bulls head coach Phil Jackson, Heat's Pat Riley, and even Gregg Popovich, the king of team ball.
"Coach Jackson, do you agree with what Sloan said?"
Phil Jackson, straight-faced in front of reporters, answered:
"Look, the league stepped in when MJ was too dominant. We just want that same fair environment now that Zhao Dong's on that level."
Jerry Krause didn't hesitate either:
"I back Sloan and Jackson. Zhao Dong's offense is throwing off the whole balance of the game. He's on Jordan's level, and the league should respond just like they did back then."
Pat Riley? He didn't dance around it:
"Zhao and MJ are different beasts. The old Jordan Rule doesn't really fit today's game. If we bring it back, it needs to be revamped."
With those power players all sounding off, the league couldn't ignore it. The noise around anti-isolation rules grew louder by the day, and Commissioner David Stern called two emergency meetings to talk it out.
That same night, after the Knicks wrapped up their regular season, a local New York TV station aired a special segment dedicated to Zhao Dong. Two Knicks Hall of Famers were brought on as guests.
Host Kiger opened the show by reading off Zhao Dong's statline and said, shaking his head:
"Man, it's wild. In the race for the stat king crown, Zhao Dong only walked away with the scoring title. But get this—MJ averaged 29 points, a dip from last year. Yeah, it's showing he's slowing down. But hey, when the playoffs hit, that's still Jordan we're talkin' about."
Willis Reed chimed in with a grin:
"Look at Zhao's averages and where we finished—#2 in the East, #3 overall. I'm callin' it now, he's getting his first MVP."
Kiger nodded. "Facts."
Then he kept going:
"In blocks, he lost to Camby—3.7 a game. Rebounds? Rodman cleaned up with 15 a night. But listen, Zhao Dong's doin' it all—he's just spread too thin."
Walter Frazier added:
"Exactly. He's everywhere on the floor. Nobody can focus on everything, and he's still dominating."
Kiger agreed. "If he pulls MVP and scoring champ, that's the ultimate stamp on his season."
He flipped to another page of stats.
"Here's what's even more insane—Zhao Dong's leading the league in win shares, PER, defensive rating and offensive rating. He's top five in boards, steals, and blocks too. He's not just playing; he's taking over."
Willis Reed nodded.
"Zhao's defense inside and out is elite—efficient, effective, and straight-up scary."
Zhao Dong, watching the broadcast at home, was feelin' it.
"Preach," he muttered with a smirk.
Lindsay, curled up next to him, echoed it.
"I agree too."
He popped open the system tab. And boom—reward received. Five quality points for winning the scoring title.
He'd been fiendin' for those points. The system had gone quiet after the All-Star break, like it ghosted him. No new missions for two months.
"Maybe next season the system fully checks out," he guessed. "Whatever. I'll handle it on my own."
Physically, he was already a six-tool monster. Plus, with a stash of gold-badge skills and the time to grind out more, he was built to last without the system.
His Flexibility stat was sitting at 94. He instantly dropped two points in and pushed it to 95—top tier. Now it wouldn't hold back any other qualities or skills.
His Balance was at 90. That one didn't restrict qualities but did affect stuff like the fadeaway jumper. He debated but held off on dumping more points into it—for now.
Instead, he claimed the reward for "Grant Hill's First Step."
"System: Merge with current ball-handling and slashing skill," it prompted.
"Merge it," Zhao confirmed.
The move synced up with his dribble-drive package. His Slashing skill jumped to Level 96, and the gold badge effects got buffed too:
Gold Badge Level 96 – Dribbling & Breaking Through:
50% higher chance of shaking defenders
40% better odds against double-teams
"Sheesh. That upgrade hits hard."
He still had two more unclaimed rewards—one Jordan skill and one-sixth of a dominance shard.
After thinking it over, he dropped one more point into Balance, bumping it to 91.
"System, if I copy MJ's fadeaway, will my current stats cap it?"
"Yes."
"How bad?"
"One level."
"Just one? Easy call."
He cracked his knuckles.
"System—give me Jordan's turnaround fadeaway jumper. Copy now."
"Overlay in progress…
Overlay complete. Skill level: 94."
"Man… Jordan, your fadeaway's only a 95? I'm one off?!" Zhao let out a frustrated sigh.
But it makes sense—Jordan's core strength never really broke human limits. That turnaround fadeaway? It's a move that pushes your core to the edge. So a level 95 rating checks out.
Now Zhao Dong? He's got that level 100 core strength, no doubt. But balance? That's a different story.
That move demands elite balance too. Just a slight slip mid-air and you're off rhythm, shot gone.
Still, level 94 balance? That's elite. Enough to trust it in real games. It adds to his back-to-the-basket game and patches a key weakness in his offensive bag.
He had just one skill point left to spend. Everything else is already top-tier—except his upper and lower body strength. So he boosted his lower limb strength from 89 to 90, finally hitting first-class level.
Right then, the TV program was still rolling. The host, Kiger, suddenly switched it up and said, "You two, there's been a lot of talk about bringing back the Jordan Rules. What's your take?"
Willis Reed and Walt Frazier glanced at each other and shrugged. Reed cracked a smile.
"There's history there. I think Zhao Dong's gonna run into some kinda 'Zhao Dong Rules' in the playoffs."
"Yeah," Frazier nodded, "but it's not the same as Jordan's situation. Zhao's got that killer passing vision, and he's shooting more efficiently than MJ ever did. He's even more dangerous."
"But..." Reed grinned, "for Zhao Dong, that's actually a compliment."
Frazier added, "Actually, the Bulls and Jazz already went extreme on defense last postseason. Didn't really work though."
"Not exactly," Reed cut in. "Like when he's handling at the top or free throw line, teams like the Knicks collapse hard inside. That pulls help defenders all over the place, making it easier for him to split the double. If you had a true anti-isolation rule, that's a defensive 3-second or illegal defense—possession flips."
"So you're both saying the league's most likely move is to bring back the anti-iso rule?" Kiger asked.
"Yeah, that's pretty much guaranteed," Reed said.
He paused, then continued, "This year, during the regular season, Zhao barely faced double teams. He was too efficient—put up 35.6 a night. If the league doesn't step in with new restrictions, he might be dropping 40 or even 50 next season. No defense in the league wants to see that."
"Facts," Frazier laughed. "Nobody tryna get cooked like that."
"So the league will change the anti-iso rules?" Kiger pushed.
"Most likely." They both nodded.
"What you gonna do, Zhao?" Lindsay asked.
"When someone comes for me, I'll handle it. When the flood comes, we flood it back," Zhao Dong said, fired up. "Jordan got stopped by the Jordan Rules for three years, and then he built a dynasty. I'm not gonna lose to him."
Meanwhile, in Philly, Iverson was watching the show too.
Another season missing the playoffs had him tight.
He had grinded hard last offseason, training like crazy. It was hell. His shooting and efficiency got better—but still no results.
That disconnect between work and reward crushed his motivation. And discipline? Not his strong suit to begin with.
So he was planning to chill this offseason. Let loose with the homies.
But now? Watching Zhao Dong on TV, hearing the league talk about making rule changes because of him? That lit something in him.
"The gap between us keeps growing…" he muttered.
He stared at Zhao's highlights being replayed, jaw clenched.
"Nah, I can't fall behind. I gotta level up. I'll be the best out of the '95 class. I will become more efficient."
His mindset locked in. A new decision made.
After the regular season wrapped, the Knicks gave players two days off to rest and recover.
But after what happened to Ewing before last year's Finals, the front office dropped a strict abstinence policy—no distractions.
On the 19th, Zhao Dong pulled up to the New York branch of Zhao Dong Sporting Goods to check on things.
The person in charge gave him the rundown: "Boss, since the All-Star break, the Silver Demon 1s been selling like crazy. In two months, we've moved 1.27 million pairs in the U.S. alone. New York made up half of that. We're targeting 10 million pairs for the year…"
Zhao ran the numbers. After factoring in shipping, production, and operating costs, gross profits came in at around 30%.
In China, sales were even crazier—tens of millions of pairs. The price there's only a quarter of the U.S. tag, but costs are way lower. No overseas shipping, and ops are cheaper too. Profit margin? Solid 20%.
Wallace continued, "Nike and Adidas both dropped their knockoff versions. One's the Gold Demon, the other's the Secret Demon. But they ain't catching on. They don't look or perform as good as ours.
We've cracked into the North American market and already snatched 10% market share. That's a strong start…"
Then he added, "But I think the HQ team's kinda lagging. We didn't drop any special edition kicks. Like when you had that 5x5 in the All-Star Game? That shoulda been a commemorative drop.
Or your quadruple-double? We missed out on that too."
"Mr. Wallace, shoot those ideas over to HQ. I'm sure they'll follow up," Zhao Dong nodded.
"I will, boss."
Later that day, Zhao invited Hu Weidong over for lunch.
"Yo, Hu," Zhao said as they chopped it up. "This year was solid for you, bro. You might even get traded—some team probably wants you."
Hu had averaged 11.2 points in 22 minutes per game on 42% shooting during the regular season. He was the Knicks' fifth scoring option and a key piece off the bench.
"Alright, I'll chill here. Been grinding for a few years straight—my body's almost maxed out," Hu Weidong said with a grin.
Zhao Dong smirked and nodded, "Don't rush back in the offseason, bro. Get yourself checked out, heal up anything that needs fixin'. Take care of your body right, and you'll still have a shot at landing another contract once this one's up."
"Facts," Hu nodded.
Even though he didn't get as much burn here as he did back in China, the level of competition in the NBA was on a whole different level. And counting the playoffs? Man, one NBA season was like running three CBA seasons back-to-back. It was a serious toll on the body, and yeah—dude needed that maintenance.
Money-wise? He was chillin'. On top of his team contract, Zhao Dong's brand hooked him up with a domestic endorsement deal—pulling in a few million RMB a year. That alone was enough to keep his body right and tight.
"Yo, Big Hu, you ain't getting any younger. What are you now—28? When you putting a ring on it, man?" Zhao Dong joked.
"Man, I've only been dating my girl for a year. Been long distance for more than six months now," Hu laughed. "We still keep in touch, talk a lot—but we haven't talked about marriage yet."
"What'd you used to do back home?" Zhao Dong asked, tossing a snack into the cart.
"I came out the army, then ended up working in the Industrial and Commercial Bureau," Hu replied casually.
Later that afternoon, Hu said his goodbyes. Zhao Dong and Lindsay hopped in the ride and headed out to the supermarket.
While driving, they started talking about the Knicks' lineup.
"Zhao, y'all got no inside offense right now. All your buckets come from the perimeter. If the shots ain't falling, y'all could collapse quick, right?"
Zhao Dong chuckled. "That's just how Old Man Nelson runs his system—it's flashy, fun to watch. Regular season stuff. Brings fans in. But playoffs? That's a whole different ball game. We're switching it up—running more post plays."
"You hittin' the block again?" Lindsay grinned.
"Damn right," Zhao Dong smirked. "Ain't nobody in this league that can body me down low. Not even Shaq. He can hang, but I shoot a better percentage."
"Pfft," Lindsay laughed. Then outta nowhere, she smiled, "Yo, after the season, don't forget our deal—you promised me a honeymoon."
"For sure," Zhao Dong said, eyes on the road. "Wherever you wanna go—I'm there."
"Bet." She leaned back with a smile.
"Eve, what's the situation in Hong Kong right now?" Zhao Dong asked, flipping the convo.
"Oh yeah," Lindsay replied, "First wave of attacks from that Soros-led crew already hit. They dumped hundreds of billions in Hong Kong dollars. Crippled the financial sector pretty bad."
"Mmm," Zhao Dong hummed. "Then it's about time for Round 2."
"Yeah, wouldn't be surprised if it's already in motion," she nodded.
"What's our Storm Fund looking like now?" Zhao Dong asked.
"Conservative side's sitting on $4 billion. High-risk fund? $2 billion. We've already pulled all forex investments outta Asia—whole region's bleeding. Japan got rocked the worst. Over 20,000 companies went belly up. But good news? Our U.S. layout is locked in," she said confidently.
"Damn, that's a big stack," Zhao Dong said, raising his eyebrows.
"Half of it's our own capital. Other half came from investors—returns were fire, so folks lined up. Plus, Mrs. Dolores brought in some heavy-hitters."
"You screening the investors?" Zhao Dong asked.
"Absolutely. We only take non-U.S. money—keeps us off the radar of the SEC," she said.
Zhao Dong nodded. "Evelyn, keep some funds ready. Soon as you see Hong Kong showing signs of a bounce back, throw it in. Let's make a quick bag—and pick up some high-quality stocks while we're at it."
"You sure Hong Kong's gonna bounce?" she asked.
"Hong Kong's back under our flag," Zhao Dong said confidently. "Mainland's backing it heavy. Soros ain't just gonna steamroll us like that. I'm betting they'll raise the interbank lending rate—make it crazy expensive for those international vultures to short the Hong Kong dollar."
"Got it. So… two billion enough?" Lindsay asked.
"Yeah. Split it up—half into the stock market for the long play, other half into forex for quick moves."
Zhao Dong remembered that the central government had thrown its full weight behind Hong Kong. Their entire $140 billion foreign reserve was ready. His fund was just throwing gas on the fire—hoping to make Soros and his boys bleed.
He figured Soros' Quantum Fund was sitting around $70 to $80 billion now.
By the time they pulled up to the supermarket, Zhao Dong—now the biggest sports icon in New York—immediately drew attention.
Folks surrounded him asking for autographs. After some quick interactions and photo ops, he finally shook them off and got back to business with Lindsay.
They started picking out ingredients.
This joint was a mid-sized Chinese supermarket. Kinda out the way, but packed with the kind of stuff that made Zhao Dong feel at home.
He tossed a few veggies and seasonings into the cart. Dude was planning to cook a real Chinese dinner tonight—playoffs were just around the corner, and it'd been way too long since he had a proper meal from back home.
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