LeBron James running away? He's going all in on Curry.

For the next forty-eight hours, Chris Grant felt like he was living in a dream.

He was pinned down at his desk by his young, nouveau riche boss and made no fewer than ten phone calls to Larry Riley, the general manager of the Golden State Warriors, almost without sleep.

When Larry Riley first heard that the Cavaliers were going to offer Stephen Curry, he laughed like an idiot who had heard a ridiculous joke on the other end of the phone: "Come on, Chris, even though LeBron left, you don't need to be so desperate. Stephen is the cornerstone we selected, not for sale."

But as Grant, following Su Yang's instructions, escalated the pressure, the Warriors' tone began to change.

When the offer changed to "All-Star point guard Mo Williams + potential big man JJ Hickson", Larry Riley remained silent for three minutes.

The Golden State Warriors were in a state of extreme chaos in 2010.

Star player Monta Ellis publicly stated in the media that he could not coexist with Curry.

The team urgently needs to establish a single leader while supplementing its weak interior defense.

The young and athletic JJ Hickson, along with Mo Williams who can shoot and doesn't need much ball possession, perfectly fit their current needs.

When Su Yang grabbed the phone and personally threw out the last heavyweight chip, the deal was instantly completed.

"Mr. Riley, in addition to the aforementioned chips, we also have our unprotected first-round pick from 2015."

Su Yang's voice on the phone was as calm as a cold-blooded demon. "And, as a bonus, we're willing to take over Andris Biedrins' remaining four years of his garbage contract, worth nine million dollars a year."

A gasp escaped the other end of the phone, followed by a hurried reply as if afraid Su Yang might change his mind: "Deal! I'll fax it to the alliance office right away!"

After hanging up the phone, Grant slumped into his chair, looking at him as if he were a madman.

Biedrins! That Latvian center who only takes money and does no work, and can even airball free throws, this garbage contract is poison that the Warriors dream of getting rid of!

"Boss... to give up a ready-to-play player, a promising young star, and a first-round pick for a sophomore with a problem in his ankle, and to take on a nine-million-dollar garbage contract to fill salary space... this is practically robbery." Grant said with a bitter face.

"It was indeed a robbery," Su Yang said with a confident smile. "However, they were the ones who were robbed."

In a few years, when the small-ball era arrives, this trade proposal, which has been ridiculed by the outside world, will be rated by all basketball media as "the most outrageous fraud in NBA history," and Larry Riley will most likely be cursed to the point of committing seppuku by angry Golden State fans.

"This is just the first step, Grant. Our work has only just begun."

Su Yang threw a long list onto the table.

"Next, start a massive fire sale. Put veterans like Antoine Jamison and Anderson Varejao, along with all the so-called immediate contributors, on the trading block. Contact teams that want to contend for a championship, like the Mavericks, Celtics, or Lakers, and trade them for draft picks!"

"If we can't get a first-round deal, we'll go for a second-round deal; if we can't get a second-round deal, we'll take cash! In exchange, whatever kind of garbage, overpriced contract they throw at us, as long as it's not more than two years long, we'll accept it!"

Grant stared at the roster, his heart pounding: "What's left of our roster? Besides Curry, who's going to play?"

"There are a lot of young people eager to play basketball." Su Yang pointed to the end of the roster with his finger. "For example, that second-round pick named Danny Green. Don't cut him, keep him. Tell the head coach that this kid has only one task: make 500 corner three-pointers for me every day in the gym. If he misses one, he doesn't get to eat."

"Also, give the Los Angeles Clippers a call. Isn't that second-year center of theirs, DeAndre Jordan, a rough guy who can't do anything but dunk? Get him. Even if it's just a second-round pick plus some cash compensation, that'll do. Clippers owner Sterling is a real cheapskate, he'll agree."

"Also, try your luck in the undrafted player market. I remember there's a Harvard graduate, a Chinese-American point guard named Jeremy Lin? Sign him as a backup. Also, look in the European leagues for a big, burly guy named Patrick Beverley..."

As Su Yang rattled off one unfamiliar name after another, or the names of fringe players in the league, Grant was completely bewildered.

A guard with a history of ankle injuries, a second-round pick who almost got cut, a big, clumsy guy who can't even shoot free throws and can't dunk, plus a bunch of undrafted players and a bunch of toxic contracts.

Is this supposed to be an NBA team roster?

It's practically a garbage dump!

"Boss..." Grant's voice trembled, "If we play this roster in the new season, I swear to God, we'll lose at least 60 games! We'll become the laughingstock of the entire league!"

"Who can argue with that?"

Su Yang wasn't angry at all; instead, he shrugged matter-of-factly and said, "Isn't this obvious? How can we aim for next year's number one draft pick if we don't lose?"

"But boss, even if we have the worst record in the league, our chances of getting the number one pick are only 25% based on the draft lottery! If we're unlucky and fall out of the top three, our entire year of tanking will be ruined!"

"luck?"

Su Yang walked to the window and looked down at the angry and sad Cleveland fans who were still gathered below, refusing to leave. His eyes became playful.

"Grant, you've been in this league for so long, do you still believe in so-called 'luck' and that damn billiards draw machine?"

"What...what do you mean by this?" Grant asked, puzzled.

"David Stern is a top-notch operator, and the NBA is a business league."

"LeBron's stupid 'nationally televised' game not only humiliated Cleveland, but also utterly disgraced the league. Ratings went up, but the anger of small-market owners needs to be quelled."

"Just you wait, Grant."

Su Yang's tone was full of certainty: "The league will compensate us. Next year's number one draft pick will definitely be ours, one hundred percent."

"This is impossible... How dare the league openly manipulate the draft..."

"Impossible? Do I need to give an example?" Su Yang sneered.

"In 1985, the Knicks' price-to-earnings ratio plummeted, the New York basketball market was in a slump, and then David Stern 'coincidentally' drew that creased envelope on live television and sent Patrick Ewing to the Big Apple."

"In 2003, a native Akron prodigy, the most sensational high school player in the country, was 'coincidentally' selected by a Cleveland team that had been struggling for several years with the first overall pick, thus writing a fairy tale of a hometown savior."

"As for 2008..."

"Derrick Rose is from Chicago."

With each example he gave, Grant's face grew paler.

These conspiracy theories, which were tacitly understood among the league's senior executives, were so bluntly exposed by Su Yang.

"David Stern owes Cleveland justice. What we need to do is tear open our wounds for the entire league to see with the most humiliating losing streak, and tell all the small-market owners: Look, this is what happens when you develop a superstar and then get discarded!"

"If our record is bad enough and our performance is pathetic enough, David Stern will have to smash the lottery machine and stuff the number one pick into Cleveland's pocket next summer's draft!"

Grant stared blankly at the young Chinese-American man before him, a chill creeping into his heart.

It's too cruel.

They are ruthless to others, and ruthless to themselves.

He had a clear understanding of the alliance president's thoughts and unspoken rules.

"I understand, boss." Grant straightened up, the panic from before gone from his eyes.

"I'll go clear out this mess right now and fill the salary cap with poison pill contracts for the new season. Don't worry, I guarantee that next year's Cavaliers, apart from these few young guys you mentioned, won't even be as good as the CBA!"

Watching the general manager burst out of the office full of energy, Su Yang nodded in satisfaction.

Now, we have the foundation, the tanky center, and the raw material for a top-notch 3D game.

All that's left is to wait for the new season to start, to nurture Stephen Curry's superstar confidence with unlimited shooting opportunities, and to calmly accept wave after wave of losing streaks.

Who could we pick with the number one draft pick in 2011?

Su Yang touched his chin.

Should we pick Kyrie Irving?

No, Irving and Curry's positions overlap.

Su Yang turned his gaze to the 2011 draft list in his mind.

"If we take the number one pick and trade it down to get a few lottery picks, and while we're at it, we can pack up that Kawhi Leonard with his paralyzed face and another guy named Klay Thompson and bring him back to Cleveland..."

Curry, Klay, Leonard, Danny Green, DeAndre Jordan.

Thinking about this roster that would make every team in the league despair in the future, Su Yang couldn't contain his excitement.

"Be patient, Su Yang, let the bullets fly for a while."