Van Gundy paused, his tone turning utterly resolute.
"Then let him go."
"In Li Fei's dynasty plan, anyone can be replaced—except Li Fei himself."
"Sabonis is too old, and too fragile. We can't waste valuable cap space on a giant who could go down at any moment."
If Sabonis had heard those words, his heart would likely have gone cold.
Yet at that moment, The Roof of the World was sitting in his rented Upper West Side apartment, enduring another kind of torment.
It was an apartment furnished with custom-made furniture specifically designed to accommodate his height.
The ceiling had been raised to four meters, the bed was specially made, and even the toilet stood higher than an ordinary model.
Bare-chested, Sabonis sat on an enormous leather sofa.
Before him sat a huge stainless-steel basin filled with ice and cold water.
His thick right leg, as massive as an elephant's, was submerged deep in the ice water.
"Hiss—"
The icy stabbing pain shot straight through his nerve endings to his brain, and Sabonis couldn't help sucking in a sharp breath.
He grabbed a bottle of Lithuanian craft beer beside him and took a hard gulp.
The fiery liquid burned down his throat, slightly easing the piercing pain in his knee.
The lights were off. Only the dim blue glow of the television screen filled the room as it silently replayed the day's game.
Sabonis watched himself on the television.
That hulking figure, slow-moving and impossibly clumsy in front of Iverson.
"Damn it..."
He cursed under his breath, his voice hoarse.
He remembered Seoul in 1988.
Back then, he could run and jump, dunk over opponents' heads, and push the fast break like a guard.
Back then, the whole world had called him The Roof of the World.
And now, he