(TL/n: My bad guys, Final Fantasy VII Rebirth just released it's pc port and I got lost there..
Anyways here's the missing Chapters for the past 3 days.)
The Cavaliers' championship parade was a massive spectacle, and the dia coverage that followed was endless.
But what truly took over social dia?
Michael Malone's now-iconic "Who is your daddy?" and Han Sen's viral remark about LeBron Jas finally fulfilling his promise to bring a championship to Cleveland.
LeBron was already down bad after losing the Finals.
Dante Cunningham had landed the first verbal knockout.
And now, Malone and Han were pouring salt into the wound.
To make it worse, the Kobe loyalists—who might've otherwise defended LeBron—were completely out on him.
Kobe had given everything.
If LeBron had just played better, maybe the Lakers wouldn't have collapsed.
Maybe Kobe wouldn't have pushed himself to the point of a career-ending injury.
And just when it seed like things couldn't get any worse for LeBron, TNT aired their latest Inside the NBA episode.
Kenny Smith dropped a stat that left Shaq and Barkley speechless.
Han Sen had reached the Conference Finals in all seven of his NBA seasons.
Not just that.
Six of those runs were as the team's undisputed leader.
mphis? They were irrelevant before Han.
Cleveland? A complete ss before he arrived.
And the mont he left the Grizzlies? They collapsed, despite getting a massive trade haul in return.
That told the whole story.
Han didn't just win.
He elevated teams.
He made players better.
Naturally, the TNT crew broke into full-fledged Han Sen appreciation mode—competing to see who could hype him up the most.
And the fans?
They ate it up.
Because after watching Han make history, all they wanted was to see him get his flowers.
anwhile, LeBron...
LeBron beca that guy.
And not in a good way.
The comparisons were inevitable.
Han and LeBron had even been teammates once.
That ended in failure.
And when you looked at LeBron's career?
The pattern repeated.
Miami. Oklahoma City. New York. Los Angeles.
Everywhere he went, his teams underachieved.
His teammates regressed.
LeBron's defenders tried their best—"His teammates had to sacrifice because they were stars!"
Which imdiately led to the question:
"Then why does LeBron always need to play with stars?"
It was an argunt with no way out.
And the backlash?
It drowned LeBron's social dia.
The pressure was relentless.
The criticism, unforgiving.
And respect?
If you don't earn it on the court, you won't find it online.
Within two days, LeBron had had enough.
He tweeted:
"Said what y'all had to say, I still greet you with love! Taking a break from social dia, y'all be blessed."
A social dia retreat.
The timing?
Suspicious.
Because it looked exactly like what happened when he left Cleveland the first ti.
And yet—this ti—it was almost impressive.
No one had ever announced they were running away from social dia before.
But if you followed LeBron long enough, you knew he always had a way of making things interesting.
---
Han, anwhile, had moved on.
After the championship parade, he joined Nikola Jokić on a trip to his hotown—Sombor, Serbia.
Han had never been to Serbia before, so he was curious.
The mont they landed?
Han looked around. Took a second glance.
Then turned to Jokić.
"Dude... this is just mini Cleveland."
Jokić shrugged, completely unfazed. "Yeah. That's why I like Cleveland."
Sombor was a quiet town. Green, peaceful, and slow-paced.
It didn't have the chaos of Miami, New York, or even mphis.
It was a place where life moved at its own rhythm.
And for the first ti in a while—
Han felt completely detached from the NBA.
Jokić wasted no ti pulling Han into his world.
No five-star hotels. No VIP treatnt.
Instead?
A horse-drawn carriage ride through town.
Han, expecting a slow scenic route, leaned back—only to hear an old Serbian man shouting from the roadside.
The man, clearly one of Jokić's relatives, squinted at Han.
"Nikola, who is this? Your assistant?"
Jokić didn't correct him.
Han blinked. "I am NOT his assistant, man—"
Jokić just laughed.
Han sighed. "This trip is already pissing off."
For lunch, Jokić took Han to Sombor's most famous restaurant—The Elephant.
Han expected traditional Serbian food.
Instead?
Hungarian cuisine.
"Wait—why is everything Hungarian?" Han asked.
Jokić shrugged. "Borders change. Food stays."
Fair enough.
Han tried fish pie, a regional specialty.
Not bad.
But what stood out the most?
The people.
At first, no one paid much attention to them.
Then soone recognized Jokić.
Then Han.
A few fans approached for pictures—but unlike NBA crowds, there was no chaos, no screaming.
Everything was relaxed.
Han finally understood.
"No wonder you're always so chill, man." Han said.
Jokić took a sip of his drink. "Yep."
---
The main event?
Jokić was buying a racehorse.
The mont they arrived at the stables, Nikola Jokić transford.
The usually slow-moving, relaxed big man?
Gone.
Instead, he was laser-focused.
Han watched in amusent as his seven-foot teammate practically sprinted toward the horses.
"Look at these legs! Look at the muscle tone!" Jokić muttered, analyzing each horse like he was scouting NBA draft prospects.
Han leaned against the fence, shaking his head.
"Bro, are you drafting a horse or a future MVP?"
Jokić barely looked up. "Both require good footwork."
After an hour of in-depth scouting, Han finally asked:
"Alright, which one's yours?"
Jokić hesitated.
Then, with an awkward shrug, he muttered, "Haven't picked yet."
Han frowned. "After all that scouting?"
Jokić sighed. "I wanted to buy one after the Finals, but... I got too busy."
Han blinked.
"We won a championship, and you forgot to buy your dream horse?"
Jokić scratched his head.
"There were parades. Interviews. Then I started watching tape of last year's races. Analysis is important, Boss."
Han stared at him.
"So you're telling ... you were studying HORSE RACING FILM like it was NBA ga tape?"
Jokić nodded seriously.
"Of course. You don't just buy a horse. You DRAFT it."
Han burst out laughing.
"Jesus, man. You're running a whole front office for a damn horse?"
Jokić shrugged. "Scouting matters."
Han shook his head, still grinning.
"Well, stop overthinking it. Pick one. It's on ."
Jokić froze.
"Wait—what?"
Han smirked.
"You think I forgot our bet? We win the Finals, and I buy you the best horse in Sombor."
Jokić's eyes widened.
"You're serious?"
"Dead serious." Han extended a fist. "Pick any horse. It's yours."
Jokić bumped fists with Han, his grin returning.
"Boss... this might be the greatest mont of my life."
Han laughed. "We just won a championship and THIS is your greatest mont?"
Jokić didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Han was about to reply when Jokić suddenly added:
"I was thinking about this during the Finals."
Han paused.
"...Wait, what?"
Jokić finally looked at him, completely serious.
"Ga 5. Fourth quarter. Three minutes left. I was thinking about this."
Han stared.
"You're telling —while we were closing out the goddamn NBA Finals—you were thinking about a HORSE?"
Jokić nodded.
"Of course. The Finals end in June. The biggest horse races start in July. Timing is perfect."
Han buried his face in his hands.
"I cannot believe this dude."
And yet—watching Jokić's pure excitent?
Han couldn't even be mad.
---
While Han Sen was enjoying his ti in Serbia, the 2016 NBA Draft was taking place at the Barclays Center.
With a six-hour ti difference between Serbia and the U.S., the draft was happening in the middle of the night.
Han didn't bother staying up to watch it live. Instead, he checked the results the next morning.
- 1st Pick (76ers) – "The Next LeBron" Ben Simmons
- 2nd Pick (Knicks) – Brandon Ingram
- 3rd Pick (Nets) – Jaylen Brown
The butterfly effect was in full force.
Many things Han once knew as history were no longer happening the sa way.
The Kings, who had an improved regular season, landed the 8th pick.
Their choice?
Exactly what Han had recomnded to Anjali—Domantas Sabonis.
The son of international basketball legend Arvydas Sabonis.
Sabonis didn't inherit his father's towering height, standing at 6'10" (2.08m), which kept him from being a top prospect.
But in the modern NBA?
That size was more than enough for a center.
Plus, he had his father's elite passing instincts, combined with the classic European big man fundantals—screening, positioning, and IQ.
A poor man's Jokić—but for a franchise as hopeless as the Kings, that was already a massive upgrade.
The Cavaliers, picking 25th, selected Dejounte Murray, a versatile guard out of Washington.
At 30th, the Warriors made a surprising pick—Zhou Qi.
Han raised an eyebrow.
Still, much like Ding Yanyuhang the year before, Zhou Qi's presence signaled that Chinese players were beginning to earn more respect in NBA front offices.
Zhou had even been projected as a lottery talent at one point—until his age controversy surfaced, causing his stock to plumt.
At 55th, Cleveland also grabbed Derrick Jones Jr.
Then Han spotted sothing interesting.
At 57th, the Grizzlies drafted Wang Zhelin—a pick originally belonging to the Spurs, which mphis had acquired in a trade.
It was hard to believe this was purely a basketball move.
More than likely, it was mphis' attempt to retain the massive Chinese market Han had once built for them.
As for Wang?
Han had no idea if he'd even attempt an NBA career in this altered tiline.
---
A week after arriving in Serbia, Han wrapped up his travels and returned to Sombor.
It was ti.
The Sombor Horse Racing Tournant.
Han had assud it would be a small local event.
Instead?
The place was absolutely packed.
Thousands of spectators cramd into the stands.
For a town with just 50,000 people, this was insane.
But it also proved just how much horse racing ant to the locals.
Just before the race began, a governnt official approached Han.
After a brief introduction from the translator, Han learned the man was Serbia's Minister of Sports.
That caught him off guard.
He had co to watch Jokić race—not to shake hands with officials.
But then again?
Maybe he should've seen it coming.
Han's influence had long gone global.
The only reason his visit hadn't caused a stir earlier was because it was unannounced.
But now?
He had been in Serbia for a full week.
It was only a matter of ti before people caught on.
Fortunately, after so brief small talk and a few photos, the Minister returned to his seat.
Leaving Han to actually enjoy the event.
Which was exactly how he liked it.
---
The crowd exploded as the competitors took their positions.
Jokić?
Completely unmissable.
Even among the tall Slavic athletes, his 7'0" (2.16m) fra made him stand out like a giant among mortals.
Technically, he could've hired a professional jockey.
But that wasn't the point.
This was his childhood dream.
He wanted to do it himself.
Han, watching from the stands, felt bad for Jokić's horse.
"Thank God he's not in full 'Bulky Mountain Dew Jokić' form yet. Otherwise, this poor horse might not survive."
With the official's whistle, the race began.
Calling it a horse race almost felt inaccurate.
To Han?
It looked more like car racing.
Jokić's horse exploded out of the gate.
Not a wasted dollar.
But within monts?
He got overtaken.
No surprise.
His size was a massive disadvantage.
The Sombor track was designed like a NASCAR oval.
Each lap? 1,200 ters (~0.75 miles).
The total race? Three and a half laps—nearly 4,000 ters (~2.5 miles).
A perfect balance of speed and endurance.
And that's when Han finally saw it.
Jokić's racing IQ.
Jokić hugged the corners like a professional.
Full throttle on the straightaways.
Tactical edge-cutting on the curves.
A real-life Tokyo Drift—except with a horse.
If Han didn't know better?
He'd swear Jokić spent more ti studying horse racing than basketball.
And as the race wore on?
Jokić's horse's stamina beca the X-factor.
The other competitors?
Slowing down.
anwhile?
Jokić's horse kept pushing forward.
With 200 ters left, Jokić surged into first place.
The crowd erupted.
Han stood up, clapping as Jokić charged toward the finish line.
And then—
Victory.
Jokić had officially won the Sombor Horse Racing Tournant.
After the race, Han went down to the track to congratulate him.
Technically?
This was just the preliminary round.
But Han could already tell.
Jokić was going to win the whole damn thing.
And sure enough?
That afternoon, in the finals, Jokić dominated again.
By the end of the day?
He was officially the undisputed champion of Sombor.
And the way he celebrated?
Han had never seen him this happy.
Jokić held up his trophy, singing a Serbian song Han didn't recognize.
Dancing like an absolute madman.
Han watched, shaking his head.
"This dude loves horse racing more than basketball."
---
That night, the town hosted a bonfire party.
Han finally got a taste of authentic Balkan barbecue.
And honey brandy—a drink beloved by the Slavic people.
It was sweet. Smooth.
But like vodka?
It packed a serious punch.
Before long?
Han and Jokić were drunk as hell.
And that's when Jokić—now completely wasted—suddenly slurred:
"Boss, I don't get it. Why do you believe in so much? You're not... you don't... like n, right?"
Han imdiately shoved him away.
"Dumbass."
Jokić blinked. "Then why?"
Han leaned back.
Then, with a smirk, he threw out a joke.
"What if I told you I was a ti traveler, and I already know you'll be a future NBA superstar?"
Jokić didn't even hesitate.
"Then tell tomorrow's lottery numbers."
The guy really just wanted to retire early.
Han burst out laughing.
Of course, Jokić didn't take it seriously.
Who the hell would?
But then—
As the fire crackled, Han's laughter faded.
His expression shifted.
And with a sudden seriousness, he placed a hand on Jokić's shoulder.
This ti?
His voice was different.
"Because our countries... were once brothers."
Earlier, while visiting Belgrade, Han had seen the ruins of the Chinese embassy bombed in 1999.
And in that mont?
He knew.
Serbia and China would always have a bond.
-End of Chapter-
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