Chapter 42: Off-Peak Travel, Bullying the Substitute? Dreaming in Broad Daylight!

Before the first quarter had even ended, George Karl quietly walked over to Payton, who was sitting on the bench resting. Seeing his pupil devastated and utterly dejected, Karl sat down beside him and offered some comfort:

"Gary, don't be so upset! Everyone has nights like this!"

"You just had bad luck tonight; your start wasn't great, that's all. Once the second quarter begins, I'll put you back in. The Bulls will likely have their backup guard on the floor then—that fast little rookie! Take him out! Get your rhythm back against him!"

"The latter half of the second quarter is when you and Jordan will truly go head-to-head and battle it out. That is when the game will be decided. Do you understand?"

"Don't worry, Coach, leave it to me! I'll teach that little rookie a lesson. Fast? I love playing against skinny kids who rely on speed!"

Karl patted his pupil on the shoulder with satisfaction and rose to his feet, reassured. Payton might not be able to handle Jordan when he was in the zone, but bullying a little rookie? That should be easy work.

Soon, the second quarter officially began.

Payton, who had barely played in the first quarter due to foul trouble, returned to the court with renewed vigor. Lin Tian, subbing in for Harper, walked onto the court alongside his teammates Kukoc, Wennington, Kerr, and Pippen.

The first possession of the second quarter belonged to the SuperSonics. As Payton looked at the handsome Lin Tian in front of him, he felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of anger. He just couldn't stand the sight of him.

*Why the hell is this kid better-looking than me?*

Compounded by the frustration of being dismantled by Jordan, Payton waved for his teammates to clear out as soon as he brought the ball to the frontcourt. He turned his back to the basket and began backing down Lin Tian from beyond the three-point line.

"Kid, I’ve seen your scouting report: skinny, weak, average defense," Payton sneered as he turned around. "So, can you guess how your Daddy Payton is about to destroy you?"

"Sorry, I haven't seen your scouting report, so I can't guess. Our coach says you don't need to read scouting reports for trash players. You can just play casually and still destroy them!" Lin Tian leaned into Payton’s waist and retorted with a mocking grin.

"Kid! You're asking for death!" Hearing a rookie talk back to him, Payton didn't hold back. He stuck out his backside and rammed into Lin Tian!

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

"Oh! F***!"

After three consecutive dull thuds of bodies colliding, Payton suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream.

At the exact moment of his scream, Lin Tian withdrew the hand he had planted on Payton's hip.

That last grab had felt quite satisfying.

Taking advantage of Payton’s momentary distraction from the pain, Lin Tian swiped forward and cleanly stripped the ball away from him.

Then, Lin Tian's terrifying speed erupted once more.

A flash of crimson blazed across the court again.

"Boom!"

After racing to the frontcourt, Lin Tian finished with a one-handed thunderous dunk, extending the lead to ten points.

"Oh, right, I just remembered—I actually did take a look at your scouting report. It said something about you being slow, and that I wouldn't even need to accelerate to blow past you. I just tried it, and it's actually true!" Lin Tian taunted Payton after the basket. "I only used half my speed just now, and you couldn't even catch a whiff of my exhaust."

"Is your speed even comparable to my neighbor's 90-year-old grandmother?"

"Kid, you think you can stop me with dirty tricks forever? You think that was your skill? It was just pure luck!" Payton continued to lash out. He genuinely believed that Lin Tian’s steal was nothing more than a fluke.

This time, Payton protected the ball with extra care, keeping a wary eye on the little tricks Lin Tian might pull as he pushed toward the paint.

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

With Payton fully focused, Lin Tian couldn't find an opening, and was backed all the way to the edge of the restricted area.

Just as Payton triumphantly prepared to rise for a layup, Lin Tian suddenly shouted, "Scottie!"

The shout made Payton break out in a cold sweat.

Who in the league didn't know how lethal Pippen’s help defense and stealing ability were? Instinctively, Payton gathered the ball, hugged it to his chest, and looked back to survey the situation. But as he scanned the floor, he realized Pippen was several meters away—nowhere near close enough to provide help!

But in that split second of hesitation, Lin Tian’s hand shot out again.

"Slap!"

Lin Tian hit him hard and fierce, not caring whether he struck Payton's hand or the ball.

With the loud crack, the ball was jarred loose from Payton’s grasp, and Payton let out another scream.

Lin Tian’s swipe had been precise; he had caught Payton’s hand flush.

The baseline referee tonight was an old acquaintance of Lin Tian’s named Fox, the same official from the game against the Heat a month ago. Although Fox had no love for Lin Tian, his view was obstructed, and he hadn't seen exactly what happened. Besides, since they were in Chicago, there was no way he was going to call a phantom foul.

The foul went uncalled.

Lin Tian couldn't have cared less if the ref missed it or if he had actually hit Payton's hand. He simply sprinted out, scanned the court, and fired the ball down the floor.

In the blink of an eye, the orange bolt streaked across the court and landed right under the SuperSonics’ basket.

Pippen, who had developed a great connection with Lin Tian, caught the ball and rose for a vicious two-handed slam!

"Boom!"

The lead stretched to twelve points.

"Are you all blind?! He hit my hand! My whole hand is swollen! Look! Open your damn eyes and look! My hand is swollen, you idiots!"

Payton threw his hands up and erupted at the referees. He was absolutely furious.

"Strong players prove their strength through their actions; weak players only complain," Lin Tian said, cutting in before the refs could warn Payton. He began chirping trash talk: "Am I right, 'The Glove' Payton? Does that move I just pulled look familiar? Does it look like your signature specialty?"

"Kid, are you provoking me?" Payton stared at Lin Tian, his eyes filled with madness.

"I thought you were just weak, but I didn't realize your brain didn't work either," Lin Tian shrugged. "Yes, I am provoking you. And it's the purest, most disrespectful, uncovered provocation there is."

"What are you going to do about it? You coward? You can't beat Michael, so you want to come and bully the backups? A weakling like you only deserves to be bullied. Even if Michael doesn't play tonight, I can still destroy you."