A "Big" Contract

For Stephenson, this day had been anything but pleasant.

In the NBA, he had discovered that he wasn't as strong as he'd thought. After all, the NBA was the highest-level basketball league in the world, and everyone who played there was among the most successful basketball players on the planet.

But Stephenson had never imagined he could lose so thoroughly even in the G League.

When the game ended, Lance Stephenson looked up at the giant screen. 12 to 26—Link had completely beaten him in scoring!

Throughout the game, Link's scoring had seemed unremarkable. Aside from one dunk after a drive, his points had come in the most ordinary way, mostly through jump shots.

Yet he had still put up a game-high 26 points with that simple, no-frills approach. The most frightening part was that Stephenson had managed only 12 points in a single NBDL game.

Link's defense on Stephenson had been airtight. He might not have looked particularly athletic or physically imposing, but he'd managed to stay in position.

Meanwhile, the anxious Stephenson had often forced up shots without shaking his defender. It was no wonder his scoring efficiency had been so poor.

So when the game ended, he walked over to his opponent—the Chinese-American number five Paul George was always talking about.

"You won this time, but when we meet again, I won't let you get off so easily. Damn it, don't think this is over!"

Stephenson's defiant expression made Link shake his head. The guy was clearly acting like a child.

"I doubt we'll meet again, Lance. You'll probably be back with the Pacers soon, right?"

"That's right. Next time we meet, neither of us will be playing in the G League. When we face each other in the NBA, I'll make you pay for everything that happened today."

After saying that sourly, Stephenson turned and left. Link smiled helplessly. The NBA... It still sounded like an unreachable dream.

After Stephenson left, Link prepared to head back to the locker room. But as he was about to walk down the players' tunnel, a few "unexpected guests" appeared.

"Link, I'm a reporter with the Indiana State Post. Could we get an interview?"

A female reporter held her microphone up to Link's mouth, making him swallow nervously.

The reporter smiled, pleased with herself. She was confident in her figure. But Link hadn't swallowed because of that flash of cleavage. He was nervous because this was the first time in his life he'd ever been interviewed!

"An interview? Of course, of course." Link nodded, still a little dazed. Only then did he realize just how "lovely" the reporter was.

"Today, you led the Blue Team to its second consecutive win. After recording a triple-double in your last game, you put up a double-double today with 26 points and 11 rebounds. How long do you think you can keep this up?"

The reporter's question was simple, not at all probing. After all, this was a G League game, with very little buzz to build on. Reporters usually didn't ask especially pointed questions.

"I hope I can keep it up, so I'll keep working hard," Link replied with practiced maturity. He'd never been a star, but he knew how to give a polite answer.

"Then, based on your recent performances, do you think you'll get an offer for a ten-day NBA contract? I've heard you've caught the attention of several NBA teams. Apparently, the Houston Rockets are actively recruiting you. How do you feel about that?"

"Um, I'm really happy that an NBA team has noticed me, especially the Houston Rockets..." Link had only gotten halfway through his answer when something suddenly seemed wrong. Beads of sweat started rolling down his face—not from exertion, but from shock!

"Ma'am, sorry, did you just say... the Houston Rockets are actively recruiting me?" Link asked the reporter. His mind seemed to have stopped working.

※※※

As soon as Link got back to the locker room, he pulled his phone out of his locker. Sure enough, he had dozens of missed calls. They were all from one person—Carl Jon.

Link hurried to call back, but before he could hit the call button, Carl called him again.

"Hey, what took you so long? The game ended ages ago!"

As soon as Link picked up, he heard the urgency in Carl's voice.

"I just did an interview. What's up, Carl? Do you have some news for me?" Link's heart pounded. He would swear that the last time he'd been this nervous was when he'd checked his college entrance exam results.

After all, these were the only two things so far that could change Link's fate.

"How'd you know I had good news? You've been signed, Link! The NBA—you're going to the NBA! Earlier, I got a call from the Rockets' general manager, Morey. He wants to offer you a ten-day contract! Your chance is here, Link! Your chance is here!"

"Buzz!"

At the sound of his agent's words, Link's mind went completely blank. It felt just like the first day he'd arrived in this world.

Link looked around. His teammates were still there, and he was still wearing the Blue Team's road uniform. He wasn't dreaming, and he hadn't traveled through time again. This was real—he was going to the NBA!

"When do we sign?" After a long while, once he'd steadied himself, Link finally spoke.

"Tomorrow. As soon as you get back from Fort Wayne, I'll arrange a meeting with the Rockets. The team has already told me the contract amount. Under NBA rules, the maximum you can earn this year is $52,000. That's a very generous offer, Link!"

Hearing the figure of $52,000 made Link feel dizzy all over again.

It was true that even a minimum-salary player in the NBA could sign for several hundred thousand dollars. $52,000 seemed like next to nothing.

But G League contracts came in only three tiers.

Tier A paid $25,000 a year, while Tier B paid $19,000. Someone like Link, fresh out of college, could only get a Tier C contract in the G League, which paid a mere $13,000 a year.

If Link weren't single, didn't have to support his parents yet, and didn't often mooch meals at Upshaw's place, he really couldn't have survived on basketball.

But now, he only had to play for the Rockets for ten days to earn $52,000! He'd make in about three games what it had taken him four or five years to earn before!

That was why so many G League players were willing to sign ten-day contracts. Just by signing one, they'd make at least two years' worth of salary, whether or not they ended up staying with the team!

"Enjoy the win, Link. And it's not just the $52,000. Once you join the Houston Rockets, your market value will definitely soar too. Thanks to Yao Ming, the Rockets may be the most welcoming team in the entire NBA when it comes to Chinese-American players. You'll be popular there. I've got to go—several companies have already called about endorsements. We're going to make a fortune, Link! Hahahaha!"

Even after Carl Jon ended the call, Link remained standing there, dazed.

The NBA, the Houston Rockets, $50,000 for ten days... It all felt like a dream. Suddenly, he had everything he'd ever wanted.

His whole body trembled uncontrollably. At last, he could say goodbye to life as a player at the bottom of the ladder.

※※※

"The Houston Rockets? Stupid! He'll never get a chance there. Morey just wants access to the Chinese market."

After learning that the Rockets were close to signing Link, a middle-aged man with graying hair shook his head at his phone screen.

"Even if he won't get a chance with the Rockets, that's none of your business. That Chinese-American is just a lucky one-hit wonder. Every year, a few players like him have their moment in the G League. Instead of worrying about this Chinese-American, why don't you pay more attention to the Greek kid I told you about?"

The younger man across from him spoke dismissively.

"You mean Giannis Antetokounmpo? The kid still kicking around in the youth team of a second-division club in Spain? He's definitely worth watching, but he's still a long way from the NBA. As for that Chinese-American... what a shame. He should've found a more professional agent instead of Carl Jon, some rookie I've never even heard of."

"Come on, Jeff. It's not easy for an agent to sign promising players. Maybe one day your Chinese-American prodigy will fire his agent and choose you instead. What, you think that's impossible? Exactly. So stop worrying about him. We have plenty of other targets, Jeff."

At his assistant's words, Jeff Austin smiled bitterly and closed the news about Link.

But he still felt it was a shame. If he'd been the Chinese-American's agent, his career would probably have gone much more smoothly.

A Chinese-American player with both talent and marketability ending up in Carl Jon's hands—it was such a waste.