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墨書 Inktalez
The air in the conference room felt thick and suffocating, as everyone was caught in a chaotic frenzy. Xiao Jingteng was still sorrowfully singing "If You Have Heard," Xiao Fu was making sudden changes in direction, and Lin Shu-Wei was huddled in a corner, softly murmuring "you know," as if this place were not the NBA headquarters, but rather a high-end performance of collective nervous breakdown.
At that moment, Silver's phone on the table vibrated.
He glanced at the caller ID, and a chill ran down his spine, as if something had tightened around his neck.
【Mother Zhang · Z-MOM Direct Line】
He hesitated for two seconds but ultimately answered.
"Hello..."
The voice on the other end immediately came through, devoid of pleasantries or respect, only the sharpness and mockery laced with a hint of perfume, like a cold snake slithering into his ear.
"Mr. Xiao, how have you been lately? Why do you look so pale? Are you dreaming about Harden stepping back beside your pillow at night?"
Silver furrowed his brow sharply. "What do you want?"
Mother Zhang seemed to completely ignore his question and continued with a laugh, "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately. After all, your league is turning into a reality show; people are no longer watching for the scores but to see if you can survive."
She paused for a moment, her tone turning icy. "But don’t worry, I’m making this call to give you an opportunity."
Silver's heart raced with alarm. "What do you mean?"
Mother Zhang's voice dropped to an ominous whisper, like a curse rising from the depths of hell:
"I want a championship match—not the playoffs or an exhibition game. I want to decide the format, choose the opponents, and select the venue for this championship."
"You let the Heavenly Kings Team come out—let’s play again. If they really have guts, they’ll face my upgraded version of the Trick Team."
Silver clenched his fists tightly. "Are you threatening me?"
"Threat? No, no, no, I'm just giving you a choice." She smiled softly, "You can refuse. Then I'll send the evidence I have, a series of financial loopholes, copies of player likeness contracts, and that copy of Popo's Meditation Journal to the media, the offices of the legislators, and the players' union headquarters."
"...You wouldn't dare," Silver gritted his teeth.
Mother Zhang sneered, "When I helped you rise to power, you also said I wouldn't dare."
Her words hung in the air, creating a suffocating silence.
Then she added, "Think carefully, President Xiao. Do you want to continue sitting in that chair, or shall I help you choose your successor?"
"I'll wait for your call back, but don't take too long. Just before midnight tonight will do."
With a sharp click, she hung up the phone.
Silver stood frozen, the phone in his tightly clenched hand suddenly felt hot and slipped from his grasp, crashing to the ground and shattering the screen into pieces.
He cradled his head in his hands, his forehead pressed against his elbows as if the entire universe were colliding within his mind.
He knew Mother Zhang was not joking. She had already destroyed the credibility of the referees with a remix, turned half of the league's fans against them, made Poole an idol figure, and even driven Stephen A. Smith mad.
Her next move would not be just about the game.
It would be a conquest.
And Silver stood at a crossroads in history.
Should he agree?
Can he withstand it?
Silver slumped in the leather chair of the conference room, his hands clasped behind his head, looking like a puppeteer battered repeatedly by fate, on the verge of breaking. The air was thick with a sense of despair; Xiao Fu's ball was still bouncing, Lin Shu-Wei was murmuring "American style," and Xiao Jingteng's singing had slipped from sorrow into "Love Failure Collapse."
This disaster seemed irreversible.
At that moment—
Bang.
A slow yet profoundly shocking sound of a door being pushed open echoed through the room.
Everyone froze, as if the entire world had been paused.
A beam of golden light poured into the conference room from behind the door; it was not just light, but redemption itself.
Standing at the entrance was—Asian King, Jay Chou, Jay Chou.
He wore a perfectly tailored black trench coat over a classic piano shirt, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a microphone. His gaze was as indifferent as water under the moonlight, yet it concealed a brilliance that seemed ready to tear the entire alliance from darkness.
The light appeared to refract solely for him, causing the Silver posters on the walls to tremble at his presence.
Behind him followed an unremarkable man.
The man wore a wrinkled sports jacket and a cheap hat, his eyes dull and his gait slightly awkward, devoid of any energy fluctuations… Yet precisely because of this, his aura felt particularly—strange.
Silver glanced at him, frowning deeply. "Who is he...?"
Jay Chou did not respond; he merely gazed at Silver and stepped forward slowly. With each step he took, the floor echoed as if reverberating with his presence, and everyone in the conference room hardly dared to breathe.
He walked up to Silver and stopped, turning to gaze out at the night view of New York through the entire window. His voice was low, as if he were trying to draw forth a legendary melody from the dust-covered piano keys.
"From your side..."
He slowly raised his hand, pointing to the corner where Silver stood.
"To that side."
His finger shifted toward the end of the conference room, where Poole's extravagant advertisement poster was displayed, featuring an over-the-top pose with the words:
"I am the main character."
Jay Chou lowered his hand, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"Five steps in total."
Silver froze, his mouth slightly agape as if he couldn't comprehend.
Jay Chou tilted his head and softly repeated, "From your side to that side, a total of... five steps."
The room fell silent, and all the employees were stunned.
In that moment, some sensed an unusual pressure in the air, while others suddenly recalled—
The Secret That Cannot Be Told.
In that legendary work, the piano melody that transcended time and space was a mysterious incantation triggered only by five steps.
And now, these five steps were no longer music or memories; they were the starting point of action.
Jay Chou glanced at the man beside him, who slowly raised his head and spoke.
"I am Fifth Step."
His voice was not loud, yet it felt like the beginning of a storm. He lacked a glamorous aura, but there was a chilling silence that hinted at a deadly intent.
Silver widened his eyes. "Who are you?"
The lights in the conference room flickered, as if the very air had trembled in response to the words, "I am Fifth Step."
The man smiled.
It was not an ordinary smile; it was a disturbing grin that sent shivers down one's spine, cold from the nape to the soles of the feet.
His lips curled upward as he pulled out a transparent box from his pocket, revealing a—gecko.
An unremarkable gray gecko, its two eyes glimmering like black pearls, quietly swayed its tail within the glass box.
He cradled the box as if it were a sacred treasure, his tone twisted and enraptured.
"The Zhang family... Mother Zhang... Zhang Jianing... Zhang Jiayun... Father Zhang's surveillance... and their pot of Mi Blood..."
"Everything they have done has been recorded by this gecko... Hehehehehe."
The room fell into a dead silence, even Xiao Fu, who had been playing with a ball, stopped.
Xiao Jingteng's expression changed slightly as he whispered, "This gecko feels a bit ominous..."
Lin Shu-Wei shrank into the corner. "I really can't handle this; it's even less American than 'American style'..."
Silver stepped back in fear, "Who are you... what exactly are you?"
The man suddenly lifted his head, his gaze sharp and fiery.
"My name is Tong Ning Shi."
"I am a forgotten psychic analyst. Trick Team fired me, which was the only right thing they ever did—yet it is also their greatest regret."
"I can foresee the future, communicate with memories, and turn obscured truths into living evidence."
As he spoke, he raised a gecko, presenting it like a magician revealing his ace.
"This gecko is my closest companion. It has been lurking in the Zhang family ceiling for three months, recording all the conspiracies, money laundering, contract forgery, referee contacts, and even Mother Zhang stealing the last piece of Mi Blood... I have video evidence of it all. Hehehe..."
Silver's eyes widened, and even Xiao Jingteng looked shocked. "You filmed Mi Blood too? That's ruthless."
Just as the atmosphere grew heavy, Jay Chou suddenly chuckled lightly and slowly walked to the center of the conference room. With a quick step and a spin, he began to dance.
The lights suddenly focused, and the air seemed to pulse with the rhythm of music. As he danced, he pulled out two metallic Nunchaku from behind him.
"You think we only talk reason?" A smirk appeared on his lips, his eyes ablaze. "Watch me—using Nunchaku!"
With that, he swung the Nunchaku, slicing through the air with a whooshing sound, each move thunderous and melodic.
Xiao Fu applauded on the spot. "Damn, that's awesome!"
Silver stood there dumbfounded, staring at Jay Chou's performance, murmuring, "So what do you all... actually want?"
Tong Ning Shi and Jay Chou exchanged a knowing glance, both revealing a meaningful smile.
Then, Jay Chou spun his Nunchaku and confidently declared the words that made the entire conference room erupt:
"Of course—it's about speaking with a basketball."
The air instantly vibrated like a bursting speaker, resonating with energy.
Tong Ning Shi raised a gecko and whispered, "We have the truth."
Jay Chou turned and patted Silver's shoulder. "Now, we just need one more game. Let the Trick Team take the stage and face the real Heavenly Kings Justice Five."
"A game that cannot be edited, faked, or twisted—a game that will reveal the truth to the whole world."
Silver looked at them, swallowing hard, his eyes trembling.
"You mean... you want to initiate a... public trial?"
Jay Chou smiled, his voice gentle yet unwavering.
"No."
"We're going to fight an unavoidable Divine War."
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