"Forest..."
Falk took a deep drag on his cigarette, slowly exhaling the smoke. The arrogance and shrewdness in his eyes vanished completely at that moment, replaced by an unprecedented solemnity.
Falk realized that the person in front of him was a madman, but also a genius. He had used this unique data framework to protect Mutombo's decline and physical limitations over the next three to five years. No general manager in the entire United States would dare to offer such a contract to a 30-year-old center.
Lin Qi folded his hands in front of him and glanced at Falk and Mutombo.
"In this league," Lin Qi said, emphasizing each word, "There isn't a single team, a single agent, who understands your true value... except me."
The meeting room fell silent. Mutombo stared intently at Lin Qi. After five years of being a "shot-blocking machine," for the first time, someone told him that his value didn't lie in his shot-blocking statistics.
Lin Qi continued, "I have Kevin Garnett, 2.11 meters tall, who can switch on positions one through five. You, 2.18 meters tall, a rim protector. The two of you forming a frontcourt... will be a nightmare for every offensive player in the league. This is a historic frontcourt. Our young team just went head-to-head with the Chicago Bulls for five games. We're young, energetic, and all we need is a defensive anchor like you. Our goal is to take down the Chicago Bulls. You're not here to retire; you're here to be the final piece of the puzzle."
Falk, standing nearby, opened his mouth, trying to steer the conversation back to the familiar topic of "money": "Mr. Lin Qi, these are all good, but ultimately, how much Dikembe is worth depends on the market..."
" David," Lin Qi finally glanced at him, "I have one last thing to discuss with Dikembe. This is something you can't help with, and the market can't set a price for."
He turned back and looked at Mutombo.
" Congo," Lin Qi said.
Mutombo's body jolted violently.
"I know your dream." Lin Qi's voice softened, taking on a genuine seriousness. "You want to go back to Zaire, back to your hometown, to build a hospital. A children's hospital and medical aid center that can save those children."
Mutombo remained silent, but a ripple stirred in his usually calm eyes. This was the softest and most sacred part of his heart.
" Atlanta can give you the money to go back and build it yourself," Lin Qi said. "But Dikembe, have you thought about this...? Just having money isn't enough to build a hospital building, the medical expertise, the doctors, and the system that can truly save lives?"
Mutombo was stunned.
"Let me tell you what Boston holds," Lin Qi leaned forward slightly, enunciating each word clearly, "Behind Boston stands Harvard Medical School."
Massachusetts General Hospital has consistently competed with John Hopkins for the top spot in the nation's hospital rankings for years.
Brigham and Women's Hospital – a world-leading organ transplant and cardiovascular center.
"And then there's Boston Children's Hospital— " Lin Qi stared into Mutombo's eyes, "The nationally recognized number one children's hospital. Its dominance in pediatric surgery, complex procedures, and rare diseases—as of 1996, nowhere else in the world could match it."
"This is the piece of your dream that's most lacking," Lin Qi said. "What you lack isn't money, it's medical expertise, a system, and the medical resources to truly transform that hospital in Congo into a life-saving facility."
"If you come to Boston," Lin Qi said, "You won't just be a Celtics player. You'll become an icon of this city. And this city happens to have the best medical resources on the planet."
"The connections and reputation you've built in Boston will make building a hospital in Kinshasa much easier."
"What does Atlanta have?" Lin Qi's voice was soft, yet every word carried immense weight. "They only have a pitiful community hospital."
"And Boston," Lin Qi said, "Is Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston Children's Hospital, and the entire Harvard Medical School."
The reception room was deathly quiet.
Falk opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word. All the bargaining tactics he had prepared were now stuck in his throat.
And Mutombo, that 2.18-meter tower, that invincible "King of Blocks" on the court, at this moment, his eyes were slightly red.
After a long while, Mutombo slowly stood up.
He was a full head taller Lin Qi, but at this moment, the look in his eyes when he looked at Lin Qi was not condescending at all, but only moved by the feeling of being truly seen through and understood.
"Mr. Lin Qi," he said slowly in his deep, husky voice with a heavy accent, "In Denver, with every team I've spoken to, all they've talked to about are numbers. Blocks, rebounds, and contracts."
"You're the first," Mutombo said, "To talk to me about my values, my dreams, and those kids."
He stretched out his large hand, capable of covering countless seals.
"I don't need to wait for the market anymore, David." Mutombo turned to a bewildered Falk and said, then turned back to Lin Qi and shook his hand. "As soon as the signing window opens..."
I'm going to Boston.
Falk stood to the side, opened his mouth, but ultimately, dejectedly, swallowed back the words, "We can actually talk about the price some more."
He'd been a broker his whole life, and for the first time, he lost to a quote he couldn't even measure in terms of price.
The day the signing window officially opened, the entire league was thrown into chaos by O'Neal's $120 million and Jordan's $30 million.
While everyone's attention was focused on those astronomical figures, the Boston Celtics immediately submitted a contract.
Dikembe Mutombo. 5 years, $50 million.
The entire league was stunned.
The worst off is Atlanta. The Hawks are still negotiating a contract extension with Steve Smith, thinking that by securing their perimeter defense, they can then free up resources to pursue Mutombo.
But when they turned around, Mutombo was gone.
The Hawks ' general manager slammed his fist on the table, finally realizing what had happened... The whole rumor about "stealing Smith " was just a smokescreen. Lin Qi had used Smith, whom they didn't even need, to disrupt the Hawks ' focus and negotiation rhythm, and then turned around and snatched their real prey.
Feinting to the east while attacking in the west, winning hearts and minds is the best strategy.
The person most uncomfortable upon seeing this news was Bernie Bickerstaff, the Denver Nuggets ' general manager and head coach. Staring at the news on TV, his face turned from red to white, and then from white to green.
A month ago, he traded his future first-round pick to Boston for Dino Radja, hoping to fill the void left by Mutombo's departure.
He never imagined that the man who used Radja to exploit his fear of losing Mutombo and snatched a future first-round pick from him... would turn around and sign Mutombo himself.
Bickerstaff slumped in his chair, speechless for a long time.
In his Boston office, Lin Qi watched the explosive news on television and picked up his coffee.
Lin Qi walked to the whiteboard. Next to Garnett's name, there was now a new name— Mutombo. A 2.18-meter rim protector, a 2.11-meter mobile forward who could switch positions one through five.
"Now," Lin Qi looked at the two names on the tactical board, "Our defensive foundation is in place."
He picked up his coffee and took a sip. But his gaze didn't linger on the tactics board.
Those eyes looked out the window, gazing westward... towards Phoenix.
Lin Qi knew he had to wait.
Waiting for a storm that is destined to sweep across the entire league in August.