NBA: The Dynasty Crasher

Zhao Dong said coldly, "You said I caught him off guard? Well, I don't think we ever settled that last time, and it's clear you don't plan on letting it go either. So, let's finish it today."

The moment he finished talking, he swung a punch straight into Karl Malone's face—BAM!

"Shit!"

Malone never expected Zhao Dong to straight-up hit him in front of so many All-Stars. Caught off guard, he stumbled back.

Before he could react, Zhao Dong stepped in and blasted a kick into his gut, knocking him clean over.

"Break it up!"

Eastern Conference head coach Phil Jackson shouted as a dozen security guards rushed in.

Zhao Dong had already stepped forward, landing two more kicks before getting dragged back.

"Let me go! I'm gonna fuckin' end him today!" Zhao Dong roared, struggling against the security guards.

Ain't nobody letting him go. They held on tight, dragging him back.

"You bastard! You're crazy!"

Karl Malone got back on his feet, gritting his teeth as he glared at Zhao Dong from a distance. But seeing that wild, pissed-off look in Zhao's eyes, he didn't dare rush in.

"Karl Malone, I told you—I'm throwin' hands every time I see you. You better remember that. We're not done till I get back what you owe me for that cheap-ass elbow to the back of my head."

Zhao Dong kept shouting.

"If it's not over, then it's not over! You think I'm scared of you?!"

Karl Malone's head was pounding. He'd elbowed plenty of guys before—ruined careers, even—but this time? He poked the wrong damn hornet's nest.

"Fine! I accept your challenge! If I get the chance to whoop you in the ring, I'm taking it!" Malone barked.

"You said it! Good. Go file that request with the league right now," Zhao Dong sneered.

"I will! Watch me!" Malone shot back.

"Yeah? Hurry up! I'll even sign off on it for you." Zhao Dong smirked, full of confidence.

He'd never trained for a real fight, but neither had Malone. Strength didn't mean shit in a brawl—it was all about speed, explosiveness, and precision. Zhao had all three. He was faster, more flexible, and hit just as hard. By the offseason, his body would be even stronger, and he'd have the upper hand for sure.

Hell, maybe his system would hook him up and boost his injury resistance to 100. Or he'd just grind it to level 99 himself.

"But before we step into the ring, you leave me the hell alone—that's the rule," Karl Malone said.

He was done with this mess. Zhao Dong fought dirty—dude kept using his feet! Malone couldn't beat that. It was humiliating, and he wasn't about to keep taking L's in public.

Not that he actually believed the league would approve the fight. This was just his way of buying time.

"Damn it, you bastard! You tryin' to play me?!" Zhao Dong cursed.

He wanted to beat Malone's ass every time he saw him, but now this dude was trying to put rules on him?

The rest of the players just looked at each other, stunned. Did Karl Malone really just back down?

"Y'all done? If you are, get to the locker room and suit up. Game time," Phil Jackson shouted again.

---

All-Star Game - Gonzalo Arena

The arena was packed, the energy was insane, and when Jordan stepped on the court, the crowd lost their minds.

CCTV was broadcasting the game live, and Zhang Heli and Sun Zhenping pulled Zhao Dong over for an interview.

After greeting the camera, Sun Zhenping asked, "Zhao Dong, how's it feel to be a rookie starter in the All-Star Game?"

"Man, it feels amazing." Zhao Dong grinned.

After answering a few more questions, the New York media came in, and he took the chance to thank Knicks fans for the votes.

The pre-game show wrapped up, and finally, the All-Star Game tipped off.

Starting Lineups

East: Mutombo, Zhao Dong, Grant Hill, Jordan, Hardaway

West: Hakeem, Karl Malone, Shawn Kemp, Payton, Stockton

The game started with Olajuwon and Mutombo going for the tip-off.

The East got the first possession.

Jordan took over the moment the ball crossed half-court.

Zhao Dong didn't even bother fighting for position—he just hovered around the paint, waiting for boards.

His game plan? Rebounds, putbacks, and fast breaks. If the ball didn't land in his hands, he wasn't sweating it.

First two possessions—he didn't touch the rock.

Third possession—Jordan bricked a shot, and Zhao Dong finally snagged an offensive board.

Defense was light as hell, especially in the first half. But the second he landed, Karl Malone came flying in from behind.

A couple of teammates clapped for the ball, but Zhao Dong wasn't passing shit. He faked left, then spun and took off for a smooth hook shot.

"Not bad! Zhao Dong scores his first bucket of the All-Star Game—a putback off his own offensive rebound!" Zhang Heli shouted.

Next possession, Malone and Stockton ran their classic high pick-and-roll.

Zhao Dong pretended to switch to Stockton, but he only had his eyes on Malone.

The Postman caught the pass, rose up for his signature mid-range jumper—

BANG!

Zhao Dong swatted that shit right back into his face.

Malone's face turned black.

"Oh! First block of the night, and it's from the Knicks' Golden Tyrant!" The commentator shouted.

NBC was covering the game live, and Doug Collins said, "Looks like this Zhao Dong-Karl Malone beef is spilling onto the court. Let's hope it doesn't get outta hand."

"Yeah, the coaches might have to stagger their minutes," Marv Albert added.

Shaquille O'Neal, the guest analyst for the night, grinned.

"Y'all wanna make a bet?"

"Oh? Shaq, what's the bet?" Doug Collins asked.

"I bet Zhao Dong and Karl Malone throw hands again before this game's over."

Marv Albert laughed, "Oh, come on! Stern's sitting right here. He'd send a whole damn security squad to stop it."

The three of them cracked up.

But in the stands, David Stern's face was dark as hell. He'd just been informed that Zhao Dong and Karl Malone had already fought before the game.

---

The West got another possession, and Payton pulled up for a mid-range jumper.

The second the ball left his hands, Zhao Dong read the trajectory—he knew it was a miss.

He sprinted two meters to the left, blocked out Shawn Kemp, and grabbed the rebound.

Jordan and Hardaway were both asking for the ball.

Zhao Dong ignored them.

He pushed the break himself.

His ball-handling was level 88—solid enough to run point when he wanted.

He brought it up to the right wing, then stopped at the three-point line.

No shot. No drive.

Just staring down Karl Malone.

"Huh?"

The crowd started buzzing. This move looked real familiar.

"Oh, shit… Zhao Dong's about to mess with Malone again!" Doug Collins shouted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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