Professional Agent

Brockman had drawn Link as his matchup again—the thing he hated most about training.

Though Brockman gave the impression of being a bruising big man, he was actually two centimeters shorter than Link. With neither height nor agility on his side, guarding Link was a real struggle for Brockman.

Though the two had made up, that didn't mean Brockman would go easy on Link in practice. You could call that a flaw, or you could call it a strength. He was used to treating every game—even a scrimmage—as if it were the most important one.

Link dribbled on the perimeter, forcing Brockman to spread his arms and come out to defend him in an area where he wasn't comfortable.

"Damn, what are you grinning at, punk?"

Seeing the faint smile on Link's face, Brockman couldn't help cursing at him.

"I smile at you, and you curse me out. Fine, then. I won't hold back."

Link shot back, then drove at Brockman with the ball.

The two were still trading barbs, but there was no personal animosity behind them now.

Just as Link was about to collide with Brockman, the Chinese-American forward suddenly used Brockman as a pivot and spun around him.

Brockman's vision went dark for an instant, and Link slipped right past him.

By the time he tried to chase Link down, Link had already pulled up just inside the free-throw line and hit the jumper. Easy as that, Link scored again. A steady mid-range pull-up—a classic Link-style bucket.

"Hahaha, I told you I wouldn't hold back, man." Link cheered confidently. Driving with the ball wasn't supposed to be one of his strengths, but he'd deliberately tried it just now.

Brockman had the build of a small forward, but he was slower than many NBA power forwards. And ever since Link had leveled up yesterday, he'd felt much lighter on his feet. So he'd decided to test himself.

The results showed that he could now drive with the ball much more freely. To Link, Brockman's defense looked like slow motion, and getting past him felt much easier than before.

Faced with Link's taunting, Brockman wasn't angry. He just scratched his head.

Link had reached the area near the free-throw line by the time Brockman had even finished turning around. Brockman couldn't shake the feeling that Link was a lot faster today.

Under normal circumstances, though, a professional player couldn't improve his physical abilities so dramatically in such a short time.

"It must be my imagination," Brockman told himself. He had no idea that his instincts were right on the mark.

And with that, the day's scrimmage ended. As usual, the team led by Link won.

The day after tomorrow, the Blue Team would travel to face the Dallas Mavericks' affiliate, the Texas Legends. Link needed to go home and pack, and he'd been training a little too hard these past few days and needed a good rest. So he didn't stay late to get extra practice in; as soon as training ended, he headed home.

He'd thought it would be an ordinary day, full of energy. But as soon as Link stepped out of the Blue Team's training facility, a gray-haired old man stopped him.

"Link, thank goodness. I thought you were staying late to get extra practice in. I'm glad you didn't keep me waiting too long."

The old man greeted Link like an old friend, though in truth this was their first time meeting.

Even so, Link recognized him at first sight. He was surprised, but managed to hide it.

"Come on, let's find somewhere to talk. You never got in touch with me, so I thought maybe I should reach out first. It's good to be cautious, Link. But at least give me a chance to pick the lock on your heart."

The old man smiled and pointed at Link's chest. "I've already reserved a table. Let's talk."

"Sure." Link nodded and followed him to the car.

The man was none other than Jeff Austin, who had called Link a few days earlier! The superagent had come all the way to Oklahoma, not for Durant, Westbrook, James, or Harden.

He'd come for a rising G League star.

Before or after arriving in this world, Link had never known much about high-end restaurants. So when he walked into one dressed casually, while everyone from the diners to the servers wore formal clothes, he suddenly felt a little awkward.

"It's fine, Link. Our table's in a private room upstairs. It's extremely secluded, so you don't need to worry about what you're wearing."

As if he'd noticed Link's discomfort, Jeff Austin immediately put him at ease.

From that small gesture, Link could already see the difference between a superagent like him and a lousy agent like Carl Jones. Jeff Austin knew how to put a player at ease, and even with little things like this, he kept the player's needs in mind.

Most importantly, he was such a big name, yet an agent who made a million dollars a year had come all the way to Oklahoma just for Link. That alone showed how sincere he was.

After they sat down and ordered, Jeff Austin smiled at Link. He didn't bring up working together right away, instead starting with a chat about everyday life.

"I heard you fired your previous agent and paid him a $50,000 termination fee? So those ten days with the Rockets were all for nothing?"

Seeing Link look at him in surprise, Jeff Austin smiled. "Don't be surprised. I'm a professional basketball agent. Information means money to us, so we don't ignore any bit of gossip."

"Yeah," Link nodded. "But if paying $50,000 helped me see what kind of person he was, then the price wasn't too steep."

"Hahahaha, that's true enough. But I have to point out that you didn't handle the situation wisely. The right thing to do would've been to leave it alone until you'd signed with a new agent, then let that agent take care of it for you. If it were me, I could've handled the termination more smoothly. And even if you did have to pay a fee, I could've covered it. That way, the $50,000 you earned with the Rockets wouldn't have gone down the drain."

"Why...are you telling me all this?"

"Because an agent is supposed to work for the player. Our job is to handle all the things that happen off the court. An agent should follow the player's lead, not drag him around by the nose. Believe me, even if we don't end up signing a deal, this advice still applies to you."

Link sighed. Without comparison, you couldn't see the difference. Just those few words were enough to show that Jeff Austin and Carl Jones weren't even in the same league. If he'd met Jeff Austin earlier, he might've avoided taking such a long detour.

"Mr. Jeff Austin, I know how famous you are in the NBA. I believe in your abilities, and I'm confident in your connections. But I don't understand why an agent like you would insist on signing me." Link stopped beating around the bush. He needed a good reason to trust yet another agent who'd suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"Do you want the truth? Because the market behind you is enormous, Link. You're Chinese-American, but your skin is still yellow. That alone gives you an edge in commercial value over other NBA players! I'm no philanthropist, and I wouldn't go out of my way to help some G League player for nothing. But you're different. Together, we can both win."

Austin had only made it halfway through his explanation when the server brought out the food. After the server left, Austin continued.

"I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I'll tell you plainly: I want to sign you because you have value I need. But I'm not going to focus only on squeezing every bit of value out of you and ignore your future. If you're worried, I can put it in the contract. I won't take a cut of your earnings or bring you to commercial events before you sign a guaranteed NBA contract. And until then, I'll cover all your living expenses."

Austin had laid out his offer. During the draft, plenty of agents paid rookies to get them to sign. But Link wasn't a rookie, so Austin had found another way to "pay" him.

"In fact, I've already spoken with a few NBA teams, and they're all interested in you. I mean interested enough to offer you a guaranteed contract. Sign you for ten days, let you make some quick cash, then kick you to the curb? Come on, that's not how I do things. Say the word, Link, and you won't even have to travel to Texas for the road game the day after tomorrow. I'll get you through the door to the NBA right away."

"The NBA?" Link's eyes lit up at the three letters. "You mean there are NBA teams interested in me?"

"Hahahaha, who wouldn't be interested in someone who scored 52 points in the G League and broke his personal scoring record? Don't worry. The NBA is your stage. You can't show what you're capable of in the G League."

Jeff Austin had put all his "bargaining chips" on the table: no commission before Link signed a guaranteed contract, no commercial events until Link was established in the NBA, and coverage of all his living expenses until he signed with an NBA team.

Link had to admit, it was an incredibly generous offer.

He was tempted.