Basketball System: Hate Makes Me Unstoppable

116 to 103.

The Cavaliers managed to hold off the Lakers' second-half surge and secured a victory in the highly anticipated Christmas game.

From Kyrie Irving's god-like first-half performance, to the fiery trash talk between him and LeBron—the two supposed second options—and finally Han Sen's third-quarter takeover, where he single-handedly battled both No. 23 and No. 24, this game delivered everything the fans could've hoped for.

In the post-game stats, Irving stood out with 37 points, 3 rebounds, and 2 assists, shooting 12-of-18 from the field and 10-of-11 from the free-throw line.

Han Sen, who barely broke a sweat, quietly racked up 25 points, 6 rebounds, 11 assists, 3 steals, and 3 blocks.

On the Lakers' side, Kobe had 27 points, LeBron contributed 21 points, 11 rebounds, and 6 assists, along with 2 blocks. Varejao chipped in with 15 points and 11 boards.

At the post-game press conference, Han and Kyrie sat side by side, facing a room packed with reporters.

Unsurprisingly, Kyrie, who had stolen the show, was the first to be bombarded with questions.

"Thirty-seven points on just 18 shots—your season-high. How did you manage that?"

"I just did what I was supposed to do. The coach and my teammates gave me their full trust," Irving replied calmly.

Another reporter quickly followed up. "There seemed to be some tension between you and LeBron during the game. Can you tell us what happened?"

"We exchanged some trash talk. That's just part of the game."

Coming off a stellar performance, Irving's emotional intelligence seemed to dip again, delivering a blunt response that left everyone in the room chuckling awkwardly.

Coach Malone, who was watching from the back, wasn't about to let the moment pass without adding his own flair.

"We've spent some time figuring out Kyrie's manual. His first half reminded me of vintage Han—unstoppable."

That comment earned a ripple of laughter.

When Han was asked the same question about Kyrie's standout night, he played along.

"He stole the spotlight from all of us," Han joked, drawing more laughter from the media.

Then, shifting to a more serious tone, he added, "Tonight, he was our hero. He earned everyone's respect."

When another reporter asked for Han's thoughts on the tension between Kyrie and LeBron, Han simply smiled and said, "Merry Christmas."

Han had been ready to unleash his full arsenal in this Christmas showdown, but with Kyrie going nuclear, he didn't need to.

The energy he saved? It found another outlet—with Anjali.

Speaking of Anjali, it was funny to think back to when Taylor Swift couldn't handle Han's endless energy. Yet somehow, Anjali seemed unbothered.

It probably had a lot to do with her athletic lifestyle. She loved working out, practicing yoga, and exploring new activities.

There was a rumor that yoga was originally invented as a way to enhance sex. Han wasn't sure if that was true, but Anjali's endurance certainly made a case for it.

The morning after the back-to-back Christmas games, Han woke up later than usual. When he got to the living room, Anjali was already done with her yoga session, sitting on the couch with a book in her lap.

Curious, Han walked over and realized she was reading a Chinese cookbook.

"What's got you interested in Chinese cooking all of a sudden?" he asked.

Since Anjali had moved in, Han had learned more about her. Beyond yoga, she dabbled in music and dance. And now, apparently, she wanted to try her hand at Chinese cuisine.

"My father used to say, 'The best way to keep a man is to win his stomach,'" she said, looking up at him with a warm smile.

Han leaned in, kissed her forehead, and took her hand. "I should thank your father, then."

He had worried about potential issues living with Anjali, considering she came from a wealthy family. His experiences from his past life had left him skeptical of rich kids.

But it seemed Vivek Ranadivé had done a great job raising his daughter.

Maybe that was why Han hadn't recognized Anjali back in the pet shop—she didn't carry herself like someone born into wealth.

After the Christmas game, Kyrie Irving's reputation skyrocketed.

As Nike's rising star, he had always been popular, with a flashy playing style that attracted fans. But as Charles Barkley pointed out during the broadcast, Irving had often been labeled a "stat-padder on a bad team" or a "showcase game player."

That changed after this game.

Not only had Kyrie posted the highest score of the night, but he also managed to get under LeBron's skin, pushing him to the point of emotional breakdown. That performance carried far more weight than a buzzer-beater against the Bulls.

LeBron's infamous "This is your last time disrespecting me" line became an instant meme.

However, as January rolled in, the Cavaliers hit some rough patches.

The first issue? Teams started targeting Kyrie.

It sounded odd, considering he was already in his fourth season. But for the past three years, opponents hadn't needed to focus on him to beat the Cavaliers.

Now, with Han Sen leading the team back into Eastern Conference contention, opponents found it easier to attack Kyrie than Han.

Kyrie began facing more frequent and earlier double teams, especially from opposing wings. It was a test of his playmaking ability.

Han's earlier advice to Kyrie—to adjust his game—would've helped. But Kyrie just wasn't capable of making that adjustment. He had only one playstyle in his manual.

And when you're that predictable, you get targeted.

Malone's solution was to have Kyrie play more off the ball. But an off-ball Kyrie wasn't nearly as lethal.

The second issue? J.R. Smith started acting out.

During a game against the Pistons in early January, J.R. untied Greg Monroe's shoelace at the free-throw line. The league fined him $50,000.

Not long after, he tugged on Vince Carter's headband during a game against the Grizzlies, earning himself a technical foul.

J.R. seemed hellbent on proving that the Knicks had been right to trade him.

Just two seasons ago, he was a Sixth Man of the Year, averaging over 18 points per game. Now? The Cavaliers were forced to suspend him indefinitely.

Lastly, the team's frontcourt depth took a hit.

Andrea Bargnani suffered an elbow injury in a game against the Bucks, sidelining him for at least a month.

The Cavaliers had known Bargnani was injury-prone when they traded for him. The plan was to keep his minutes low by having him back up Spencer Hawes.

But Bargnani had played so well that he earned the starting role—and then promptly got injured.

Good news, Varejao—part of the trade package that had brought Bargnani to Cleveland—tore his Achilles after the Christmas game, ending his season.

Kobe must've been regretting his decision to team up with LeBron. One LeBron was headache enough, but pairing him with an injury-prone Varejao? That was a disaster.

Bad news, the Cavaliers—already weak in the frontcourt— were now forced to rely on Tristan Thompson at center.

These setbacks caused the team's performance in January to fluctuate.

Their loss to the Rockets highlighted their interior struggles, with Chris Bosh dominating inside and leading Houston to a blowout win.

In the era of small-ball, your frontcourt could be weak—but it couldn't be non-existent.

...

Back in Cleveland, David Griffin paid Han Sen a visit.

He was there to seek Han's opinion.

The team was preparing to trade J.R. Smith.

Although Han Sen knew that J.R. had a decent run with the Cavaliers in the "history" he was familiar with, seeing J.R.'s antics now made him wonder if LeBron had sold his soul to keep him in check.

This wasn't just a troublemaker—this was a full-blown locker room grenade.

So Han Sen didn't have much objection to the trade. He only asked one thing:

"What can we get for him?"

"Air."

Hearing Griffin's deadpan response, Han Sen couldn't hold back a laugh.

If they could use J.R. to bolster the team's frontcourt, it would obviously be a good move. But air… Cleveland's air was already fresh enough.

Then again, it made sense. Even as a time-traveler, Han thought J.R. was a walking disaster. It wasn't surprising that other front offices would steer clear.

Still, Han decided to give it one last shot.

Compared to trading him for nothing, if he could somehow turn J.R. into the version he knew from the "history," it'd be worth it.

The next day, during practice, while the team ran half-court sets, J.R. shot threes alone on the other end of the court.

Since he was indefinitely suspended by management, he wasn't allowed to participate in team drills—strictly enforced by Coach Malone.

After practice ended, the players began heading back to the locker room. Han Sen walked toward J.R.

Seeing Han approach, J.R. immediately turned to leave. He loved to stir up trouble, but he knew better than to mess with Han Sen.

But Han quickly called him out.

"I'm giving you a chance," Han said, his words instantly grabbing J.R.'s interest.

"Ten shots, one-on-one. If you score even once, I'll get the team to lift your suspension."

"For real?" J.R.'s eyes lit up with excitement.

He knew how much weight Han Sen carried within the team.

"Real. But if you lose, you'll have to answer one question—honestly," Han added his condition.

After a moment of hesitation, J.R. nodded.

Though Han had demolished him during training camp, he was confident in his streaky shooting. Scoring just once? He liked his chances.

However, once the challenge began, J.R. quickly realized he had been too optimistic.

Or maybe he had simply forgotten how overwhelming Han Sen could be.

After blocking J.R.'s first shot attempt, Han proceeded to shut him out in ten straight possessions.

"This isn't fair!" J.R. complained. He barely had a chance to showcase his offensive skills.

"You had your chance," Han said, unfazed. "Now, it's your turn to answer my question."

J.R. reluctantly sat down, his expression full of frustration.

"Why have you been pulling all this nonsense lately?" Han asked directly. If he was going to fix the issue, he needed to understand the root cause.

"I want more opportunities. I want to start," J.R. admitted, surprisingly candid.

Han couldn't help but laugh. "With defense like that?"

"Basketball isn't just about defense! Scorers rule the court!" J.R. shot back.

"What a load of crap. Let me tell you something—without defense, you're nothing but a stat-padder."

Han's words shut J.R. up. He wanted to argue, but he lacked the confidence to do so in front of Han.

"Here's the deal—if you work on your defense…"

"You'll make me a starter?" J.R. cut in eagerly.

Han's brow furrowed. "No. But I can get your suspension lifted. Otherwise, you'll be cut—and you can go back to playing in the CBA."

With that, Han turned and walked away.

The last player to face an indefinite suspension and get cut was Delonte West from the Mavericks. Han wasn't making empty threats—he was stating facts.

The next day, during regular team practice, J.R. quietly approached Han Sen.

Han was chatting with Kyrie Irving when he noticed J.R. standing nearby.

He signaled Kyrie to continue his drills, then turned to J.R. with a questioning look.

"What do I have to do to prove I'm working on my defense?" J.R. asked, his tone full of reluctant defiance.

Hearing this, Han knew his words from the previous day had hit their mark.

Maybe J.R. had been reminded of his time in the CBA—a period he often referred to as "humiliating."

"Ten one-on-one possessions. Every day. Until I say you're good enough."

J.R.'s face turned red with frustration. This was a completely unfair arrangement. Han had total control over when it would end.

But after a moment, J.R. puffed out his cheeks, stomped his foot, and grumbled, "Fine! Deal!"

In the following days, Han made a routine of playing one-on-one with J.R. after practice. For Han, it was more of a way to pass the time.

Or maybe, deep down, he saw it as a challenge.

After all, if LeBron could tame J.R. in the "history," then why couldn't he?

But as time went on, Han began to realize that things weren't going as planned.

Defensive potential was determined by talent—and J.R. certainly wasn't lacking in that department. The nickname "Highlight Reel Jordan" wasn't given to just anyone.

But the minimum level of defensive competence came down to attitude. And J.R. seemed to be fundamentally lacking in that area.

After a week, Han was ready to give up.

Sometimes, you just couldn't save someone who was determined to self-destruct.

During a break in practice, Han was sitting on the sideline when Coach Ty Lue approached him with a cup of warm water.

"I know East Asians prefer their water warm," Lue said with a grin.

Han chuckled, taking the cup. Lue had a knack for reading people.

Then, Lue glanced toward the other half of the court, where J.R. was shooting alone. "He's got a story, you know."

Han raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.

Lue continued, "Have you noticed the tattoo on his neck?"

Han shook his head. He had no interest in tattoos. In fact, he avoided anything involving them—even in movies.

"On his neck, he has a name tattooed: Andre Bell. That was his best friend."

Hearing this, Han had a sinking feeling. People didn't usually tattoo a friend's name unless that friend was no longer around.

And sure enough, Lue confirmed it.

J.R. had been a complete asshole in his younger days. He spat on women who rejected him at bars, posted explicit photos of his girlfriends online, and even threw coffee in an assistant coach's face—all because he wasn't satisfied with his role.

But something changed after Andre Bell died.

In the summer of 2007, J.R. was driving with Bell in the passenger seat. He was speeding and crashed into a parked SUV.

Neither of them was wearing seat belts.

Both were ejected from the car. J.R. walked away with minor injuries. Bell wasn't so lucky—he suffered a fatal head injury.

Han frowned. Sometimes, it was hard to understand the recklessness ingrained in certain communities. It wasn't logical.

Bell's death shook J.R. to his core. From that point on, he vowed to carry Bell's memory, even tattooing his name on his neck as a reminder.

"He should've tattooed it on the back of his hand," Han said suddenly.

Lue looked confused. "Why?"

"You don't look in the mirror often. But you see your hands every day."

Han stood up. An idea was forming in his mind.

-To Be Continued-