This year, the Kings used their 25th pick in the draft to select Keldon Johnson, a wing from the University of Kentucky.
Standing at 1.96 ters (6’5") and weighing 100 kilograms (220 lbs), Johnson entered the league as a prototypical 3-and-D player—a crucial addition for the Kings.
Reality isn’t a video ga, but as a seasoned MyGM player in NBA 2K, Han Sen knew exactly what it took to build a true dynasty.
It wasn’t just about stacking a roster with high-rated players—it was about constructing a team with clearly defined roles.
The Kings already had enough primary ball handlers. Tatum would need to be developed as a shot creator in the future, so there was no need to continue chasing raw potential in every pick.
This philosophy carried into free agency. With Rudy Gay’s contract expiring and the salary cap rising, the Kings had nearly $15 million in cap space.
They used it to beat out the Clippers in a bidding war and signed Patrick Beverley to a 3-year, $45 million deal.
Previously, the Kings’ backup point guard rotation had been underwhelming. With this move, they addressed that need in one fell swoop.
And after acquiring Marc Gasol last season, Coach Lue had leaned more heavily into one-big, four-out, and even five-out lineups, giving Buddy Hield more offensive freedom.
While the expanded role allowed Hield to put up better numbers, it also exposed his defensive deficiencies—especially in the playoffs, when opponents specifically targeted that weak spot. That was part of why Han had to carry more defensive load than usual.
Beverley’s arrival would go a long way in patching that hole.
Then, shortly after Han returned from the FIBA World Cup with Team China, the Kings made another move—this ti with the Grizzlies.
They traded Markieff Morris, Skal Labissière, and a future second-round pick in exchange for Kyle Anderson.
Originally drafted by the Spurs, Anderson had always been a versatile Swiss Army knife-type player. When his rookie contract expired, San Antonio didn’t want to overspend to retain him. So in the sumr of 2018, he signed with the Grizzlies on a 4-year, $37.2 million deal.
In his first year with mphis, he only averaged 8 points, 5.8 rebounds, 3 assists, and 1.3 steals per ga.
Because of his unique pacing and slow, deliberate drives—almost like watching him in slow motion—he’d earned the nickna "Slow Mo."
Still, he was mostly seen as a role player in the NBA. What truly put him on the map was his performance in the World Cup.
(TL/N: He played as Li Kaier during the World Cup, but now that we’re back in the NBA, I’ll refer to him as Kyle Anderson.)
He joined Team China and, alongside Han Sen, helped take them to the top of the world.
That wasn’t so fluke or system carry.
There’s a thin line between being a glue guy and being dead weight. Versatility only matters if it clicks with the right star.
Anderson didn’t just fit China’s system—he fit Han Sen.
That synergy was the main reason the Kings were willing to trade for him—even if it ant parting ways with Markieff Morris, a key contributor from last season’s championship run.
Everything in Sacranto revolved around Han Sen.
So naturally, every move was made to maximize his fit.
As for the other major contenders around the league, all eyes were on the Celtics and Pelicans.
After last season’s playoff failures, many expected both teams to blow it up—just like the Heat and Lakers did before them.
But that didn’t happen.
Kevin Durant didn’t agree to an extension with Boston, but he did pick up the player option on the final year of his deal.
Kyrie Irving re-signed with the Celtics as well—inking a 2 1 max contract worth $110 million over three years.
Their loss in the Conference Finals had co down to Giannis’s foot under Kyrie on a jumpshot—a freak accident. Not a sign of weakness. So they decided to run it back.
anwhile in New Orleans, LeBron Jas stayed put.
Why? Simple: he had nowhere else to go.
Kyrie’s infamous quote had finally co true—no stars wanted to team up with LeBron anymore. He had no way to build a better team than the one he already had.
Still, the money was good. That sumr, LeBron opted out of his deal and re-signed with the Pelicans on a 3-year, $120 million max contract.
In a way, that contract signaled LeBron was giving up on chasing another ring.
After all, if they couldn’t beat the Kings last season, how were they going to do it now?
According to TMZ, LeBron had even traveled to New York during the offseason to see a well-known sports psychologist—trying to cope with the reality of his situation.
And apparently, the therapist was legit—because otherwise, LeBron would’ve already run back to the Eastern Conference.
---
As the new season kicked off, the Kings returned to training camp fired up.
Even though they had just won the title, many of the players knew deep down they were riding Han Sen’s coattails.
This ti, they wanted to contribute more.
Especially now that Han had publicly said he wanted to build a dynasty in Sacranto.
That hunger showed, and the team’s vets—Rudy Gay (who re-signed on the full MLE) and Marc Gasol (who picked up his player option)—shared their championship experience to push the group forward.
(TL/N: MLE stands for Mid-Level Exception, a salary cap chanism in the NBA that allows teams to sign players even if they’re over the salary cap.)
When the season began, it was obvious sothing had changed.
The Kings opened the year on a 10-ga winning streak, the best start in franchise history.
Tatum and Mitchell brought energy. Gay and Gasol brought wisdom. Beverley and Anderson filled in the gaps.
And Han Sen?
He was still the anchor holding it all together.
The Kings were still a young team—but their developnt was shocking.
Outside observers couldn’t help but wonder: were these young guys always this good, or was it just the Han Sen effect?
The answer beca obvious pretty quickly. Between what happened with the Grizzlies and Cavaliers before this, the consensus was clear—Han made his teammates better.
When soone finally asked him about it, Han just smiled and replied:
"They were always that good."
He had picked them himself. Of course he knew their worth.
His job, sa as it was in Cleveland, was just to accelerate their growth.
Tatum, in particular, was blossoming fast.
His scoring average had climbed to around 22 points per ga, overtaking Mitchell—who had outshined him as a rookie.
The difference? Talent and play style.
Tatum was simply more gifted. That’s why he was picked higher than Mitchell back in their draft class.
And while Mitchell still played best with the ball in his hands, Tatum was thriving both on and off the ball—giving him more touches and more ways to impact the ga.
---
By the ti All-Star voting rolled around, Tatum’s popularity had taken a big leap.
Though the Western frontcourt was stacked, and he didn’t crack the starting lineup, the coaches selected him as a reserve—his first All-Star appearance.
By late January, fans were buzzing about the upcoming All-Star Weekend.
But on January 26th, devastating news shook the league.
Han Sen had just gotten off a flight when he saw the alert:
Kobe Bryant—while traveling with his daughter Gigi to her ga—had died in a helicopter crash.
Han froze for a long ti after reading the headline.
He thought back to his ti at the Mamba Academy, back when he saw Kobe switch from helicopters to driving after becoming a father—to avoid exactly this kind of risk.
He had truly believed sothing like this wouldn’t happen again.
But in the end...
It still did.
---
After snapping out of his daze, Han Sen gradually learned more of the details.
Kobe had insisted on making the ga. It was important—Gigi’s team was playing, and he didn’t want her to miss it. Ti was tight, so he chose to take the helicopter.
The weather was foggy.
They never made it.
The news spread like wildfire. A crash. A mountain. No survivors.
That day, the basketball world stood still.
Tributes flooded in from every corner of the globe—players, coaches, fans, legends, all reeling from the sa gut punch. And during the post-ga press conference, Han Sen was asked about it.
His eyes turned red almost instantly.
He wasn’t one of those Kobe fanatics in his past life. But in this life? Their paths had clashed on the court. Their rivalry had been fierce. Respect was earned the hard way. And after Kobe’s retirent, they’d grown closer—occasional conversations turned to dinners, ntorship, real talks.
They weren’t family. But they were sothing.
So no—he wasn’t going to pretend.
He stared at the mic, voice low but steady.
"I’ll fund the Mamba Academy," he said. "So Kobe’s Mamba ntality can live on."
That was all he could offer. Not as a tribute, but as a promise.
---
A few days later, Han flew to L.A. for the funeral.
It was private, heavy. Legends and teammates filled the seats. Vanessa sat front row, holding it together for her daughters. The air was thick with grief—so silent, so loud.
Han was asked to speak.
He didn’t prepare a long speech. Just a sentence.
"Maybe God just wanted to play basketball."
It hung in the room. Simple. Devastating. Honest.
Much like how Wade once gave that raw eulogy at Isaiah Thomas’ sister’s funeral—this one line from Han cracked sothing open in the crowd. Even the stoic couldn’t hold back.
That year’s All-Star Weekend was different.
It wasn’t about flash or fun anymore—it was a morial.
The ga opened with both teams intentionally committing 24-second violations. Jerseys were changed: one team wore No. 8, the other No. 24. In the fourth quarter, the rules shifted—first team to 24 points would win.
It was symbolic. It was emotional.
And it gave fans one of the most intense, locked-in quarters of All-Star basketball they’d ever seen.
But just as the league and the world were still mourning...
The pandemic hit.
---
At first, the NBA hoped stricter testing protocols would keep the season alive. Nobody wanted a shutdown—it would basically be a lockout by another na.
But as infections spread beyond players to fans, the NBA had no choice. In early March, they officially suspended the season.
Han Sen was suddenly on an unexpected "vacation."
It was a massive blow to the Kings.
They had been dominating that season—on pace to break their franchise win record, maybe even challenge for one of the best records in NBA history. And then... it all stopped.
No one knew how the team would hold up when play resud. A pandemic’s toll on athletes isn’t small.
But for Han Sen, there was a silver lining.
Because people were stuck indoors, esports—one of his major investnts—bood. It was one of the few sports that could host full-scale competitions entirely online.
Han, as an investor and unofficial ambassador, leaned in. He even started streaming himself, playing gas alongside Anthony Davis—offering bored fans sothing fresh to watch.
Still, Han’s main focus remained on training.
He created group chats to check in on teammates’ progress and even paid out of pocket to support teammates on minimum and two-way contracts.
Earlier, Atkinson had floated the idea: help out lower-tier players during the shutdown to boost Han’s public image.
Sure, the shutdown was pandemic-related. But in Arica, a paycheck’s a paycheck. Players at the bottom of the league were suddenly without inco—and hurting.
But Han didn’t take that advice.
He earned plenty, but not enough to carry the league. His focus stayed on his own team.
Everything he did was to keep the Kings competitive.
Outside the league, though, Han knew he couldn’t stop the pandemic—but he still donated a large sum to support China’s national efforts against COVID.
---
Ti flew.
By late July, after more than four months, the NBA finally resud the season.
But it wasn’t business as usual.
The league returned in a "bubble" format—closed off from fans, with all teams confined to one location. Gas would be played without spectators.
It wasn’t ideal. But under pandemic conditions, it was a major step forward.
And not all teams were invited.
Given the altered schedule, it wasn’t practical to finish every remaining ga. Instead, each team played eight seeding gas before heading into the playoffs—combined with their pre-pandemic records to determine seeding.
Bottom-feeding teams had no reason to join.
Only 22 teams participated—11 from each conference.
Upon arriving at the bubble in Oakland, Han Sen found that the experience wasn’t as dull as expected. The compound had theaters, activities, and everything needed for entertainnt.
Jas’ infamous "it felt like prison" comnts? Way off.
Of course, it wasn’t luxury either. Life after wealth is hard to dial back. For many stars, this was a personal challenge.
The Kings, though, weren’t fazed.
Outside of Han, few on the roster were considered "stars."
Even Tatum—who made his first All-Star appearance that year—was a model teammate.
And among them, the most noticeably changed was Tatum himself.
He ca back from the shutdown bulked up—visibly bigger, stronger.
It was clear he hadn’t slacked off. In fact, he’d taken the ti to elevate his ga.
More than just physically, he seed... different. More mature.
Han Sen could guess why.
A lot of people grow up the mont they lose soone they cared about. For many, that person is family.
For Tatum, it was Kobe.
Though unconventional, Kobe’s influence on him was undeniable.
Thanks to Han’s efforts during the shutdown, the rest of the Kings returned in solid shape too.
Because of that, Sacranto swept the seeding gas with an 8-0 record—the only undefeated team in the bubble.
(End of Chapter)
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