thefictionvixens Chapter 19 America's Villains? No, They're New York Icons
Chapter 19 America's Villains? No, They're New York Icons
2008年11月25日，晚上8:00。
STK Steakhouse, Midtown Manhattan, New York.
This upscale restaurant, which usually caters only to Wall Street elites and Hollywood celebrities, was booked out for tonight. The person who booked the entire place was none other than Li Xiangbei, the rising star of New York.
The entire Knicks team was present at the long dining table. Champagne, premium steaks, and enormous Boston lobsters filled the table.
"Cheers! To that damn 'Ketchup Night'!"
Nate Robinson stood on the chair, raised his glass, and blushed with excitement.
On the large-screen TV, ESPN's flagship program "First Take" is being broadcast live.
The famously sarcastic Stephen A. Smith is currently yelling at the camera, with the background showing Li Xiangbei handing ketchup to Arenas last night.
"Unreasonable? Arrogant? Uncultured? Screw those words!!"
Smith was so excited that his tie was askew and he was spitting everywhere.
"When Li Xiangbei placed that bottle of ketchup in Gilbert's arms and left without looking back, what did I see? I saw the long-lost dominance of New York! This is art! This is Godfather-style humiliation! Arenas' blog post now seems like a joke! Li Xiangbei not only won the game, but also won that damn psychological warfare! He ripped the soul out of the Wizards!"
The other guest sitting opposite, renowned conservative commentator Skip Bellus, countered with a stern face:
"Stephen, you're insane. This is a complete disrespect to our predecessors! He's creating hatred! He's making himself the enemy of the entire league! Next time we go to Detroit, those bad boys will tear him to shreds!"
Inside the restaurant, the Knicks players burst into laughter.
"Public enemy?"
Li Xiangbei elegantly cut a medium-rare filet mignon, put it in his mouth, and glanced at each of his teammates.
"Sounds way cooler than 'Rookie of the Year,' doesn't it?"
He raised his glass, his tone relaxed yet exuding a convincing power.
"As long as you support me, what does it matter if the whole world is against me? Let them come, I will send them back to their hometowns one by one."
Sitting in the corner, Stephon Marbury, though already removed from the rotation, hadn't officially left the team yet, and he still shamelessly attended this gathering. Looking at the spirited young man before him, his initial envy slowly transformed into a complex sense of agreement.
"Kid."
Marbury raised his glass, his voice a little hoarse.
"I may be crazy, but you're even crazier than me. Cheers to 'ketchup'."
Li Xiangbei glanced at this former "lone wolf," smiled slightly, and clinked glasses with him.
"A toast to New York."
……
10:00 AM the next day. Bill Duffy's office.
"Lee, it's a call from David Stern's office."
Bill Duffy hung up the phone, his expression somewhat subtle. "League Vice President Stu Jackson conveyed a message: the league is happy to see stars showcase their personality, as it helps ratings. But..."
"But what?" Li Xiangbei was flipping through the latest issue of Sports Illustrated.
"But hopefully you won't start a massive brawl on the court. You know, ever since the Malice at the Palace incident, the league has been very sensitive to these kinds of things. They're worried that your overly aggressive and provocative actions might provoke some hot-tempered guys."
Li Xiangbei closed the magazine. The cover featured his famous "turning away early" photo from behind, with the title: "The Villain of New York".
Tell Mr. Stern.
Li Xiangbei pointed to himself on the cover.
"I never start trouble. I'm a civilized person, and I'll even offer my opponents some ketchup."
"But if someone wants to put their foot down there, like Bowen, or wants to humiliate me on their blog, like Arenas, then..."
Li Xiangbei's eyes sharpened.
"Then I'll let him know that New York winters are cold. I'll make them regret being born in the most brutal way allowed by the rules of basketball."
Duffy looked at the young man before him and sighed inwardly. This was a born superstar; that innate toughness and composure was something no public relations team could ever create.
"Okay, I'll polish it up and pass it on to the league. Also, that 'Wallbreaker' guy is getting a ton of buzz, and your first signature shoe pre-orders have already broken records. Congratulations, Mr. Villain, you're now an idol for teenagers across America."
……
2:00 PM. Knicks Video Analysis Room.
The revelry ends, and reality arrives.
The curtains in the analysis room were drawn tightly shut, and the projector beam shone onto the whiteboard.
The image shows a team wearing blue and red jerseys – the Detroit Pistons.
Although Ben Wallace, the "Big Ben" who instilled fear throughout the league, has left the team, the team's defensive foundation remains formidable.
Chauncey Billups (Brain), Richard Hamilton (King Without the Ball), Tyshaun Prince (Long-Armed Monster), Rasheed Wallace (Roaring God).
This starting lineup remains the toughest nut to crack in the East.
"Listen, lads."
D'Antoni pointed to the man on the screen who was wearing a transparent mask and running wildly.
"Our next opponent is a group of real veterans. They won't get upset because of your trash talk, nor will they go easy on you just because you're a rookie. They'll just wear you down with their muscles, elbows, and suffocating defense."
D'Antoni turned around and fixed his gaze on Li Xiangbei.
"plum."
"On offense, you'll be facing Tayshaun Prince. That guy has a 2.18-meter wingspan. He once blocked Reggie Miller's game-winning shot and also limited Kobe. Every shot you take will be met with tremendous interference."
Li Xiangbei nodded. Prince, that underrated defensive specialist, is indeed a problem.
"But on the defensive end..."
D'Antoni paused, his expression turning serious.
"I'm going to give you a 'suicide mission'."
He pointed to Richard Hamilton on the screen.
"This masked guy is the fastest runner in the entire league. He's a marathon runner turned basketball player. He doesn't need to hold the ball; he just needs to keep running, running, running until the defender is exhausted."
"Li, your stamina is the best on our team. I need you to guard him."
"You have to cover him the whole game. No matter where he goes, even if he goes to the bathroom, you have to follow him."
"You have to prove who the real perpetual motion machine is in this alliance."
Looking at the seemingly tireless figure in the video, Li Xiangbei's eyes lit up instead of showing fear.
Hamilton? The man who made Kobe want to throw up with his off-ball movement?
"interesting."
Li Xiangbei touched his chin, and the corners of his mouth turned up.
"Let's see who makes whom throw up first."
"I'll make him run until he questions the meaning of life."
……
Meanwhile, at the Palace of Auburn Hills in Detroit.
Richard Hamilton was warming up before the game. Instead of shooting like the others, he was running laps around the court.
One lap, two laps, three laps...
Rasheed Wallace, standing next to him, glanced at his watch: "Hey, Masked Man, you've already run five kilometers. Save your energy; that New York kid tomorrow won't be easy to deal with."
Hamilton stopped, adjusted his mask, and his breathing became eerily steady.
"Difficult to deal with?"
Hamilton smiled.
"I heard he has unlimited physical strength? I'm really looking forward to it."
"In Detroit's jungle of muscles, physical strength alone isn't enough. I'll show him what suffocation really means."
Before the match.
Li Xiangbei's system suddenly issued an extremely special task.
[Mission: The Battle of Perpetual Motion Machines]
【Target:】
Throughout the game, Li Xiangbei must cover a distance greater than Richard Hamilton.
Limit Hamilton's shooting percentage to below 35%.
Hidden objective: Make him remove his mask and get some fresh air at least once.
[Reward:] Passive skill upgrade - [Steel Lungs (S-rank)].
[Description:] Your cardiopulmonary function will evolve to a superhuman level. Even if you take a full 48-minute shot while suffering from altitude sickness, you will only need a few deep breaths to recover.
Li Xiangbei looked at the reward and tightened his shoelaces.
"Steel lungs? Perfect, I need one of those."