The Last Feast.

Before Nikola Jokić could make it to Cleveland, the 2015 NBA Draft took place at the Barclays Center, home of the Brooklyn Nets.

The Boston Celtics used the No. 1 pick to select Karl-Anthony Towns, a choice that surprised no one.

After the pick, Celtics GM Danny Ainge confidently declared to the media: "Our rebuild is over!"

The Minnesota Timberwolves, holding the second pick, selected Duke's Jahlil Okafor. Known for his polished post game, Okafor's draft comparison was none other than Tim Duncan — a name rarely thrown around lightly in draft profiles.

With the third pick, the Philadelphia 76ers took D'Angelo Russell, pairing him with Joel Embiid as their new core for a classic inside-out rebuild.

The Knicks, despite tanking for a top pick, only managed to secure the fourth overall selection. Their new president, Phil Jackson, chose Latvian prospect Kristaps Porziņģis.

The 7-foot-2 teenager, who had been playing in Spain's ACB League, averaged 10.7 points, 4.8 rebounds, and 1 block per game.

As expected, Knicks fans erupted in boos at the draft, furious about another 'project player.'

At seventh overall, the Denver Nuggets selected Emmanuel Mudiay, a former top high school prospect who had spent the past season playing in China's CBA.

Mudiay pulled a Han Sen move by revealing a bold gesture during his handshake photo with Commissioner Silva: he opened his suit jacket to reveal the bright red flag of China, earning him the nickname 'Silk Road Star'.

At 13th, the New Orleans Pelicans picked Kentucky guard Devin Booker, who had averaged 10 points and 2 rebounds per game.

As one scout put it: "When you don't know who to pick at 13, just grab a shooting guard."

Meanwhile, Han Sen was too focused on his training sessions with Cunningham to follow the draft.

After practice, GM David Griffin shared the Cavs' draft results.

Josh Richardson went undrafted, but the Cavs used their 46th pick to snag Norman Powell.

Han was surprised Powell fell that low. 'That scouting report really did its job,' he thought.

Griffin handed Han Powell's contact info. Han wasted no time dialing him up.

When Powell realized who was calling, there was a loud thud on the other end of the line.

"Uh, sorry," Powell stammered when he picked up again, clearly emotional. "I dropped my phone…"

Hearing from the best player in the league was the last thing Powell expected after being drafted in the second round.

But Han wasn't calling to offer pleasantries.

"I'm hosting a summer camp. Be there."

The message was clear: If the Cavs were going to bounce back next season, everyone had to give their all.

Just as Han hung up, he received a text from Ding Yanyuhang, who was excited to share his own news:

He'd been drafted 52nd overall by the Dallas Mavericks.

Since joining Han's development program, Ding had spent the past two years playing for the Texas Longhorns in the NCAA. After a slow freshman season, he broke out in his second year, averaging 11.5 points as the team's second option.

With the Mavericks' long history of signing Chinese players — from Wang Zhizhi to Yi Jianlian — Ding's selection wasn't a shock. Mark Cuban saw the potential for growing the team's Chinese fan base.

Though it was a late second-round pick, Ding's selection marked a significant milestone:

He became the second Chinese perimeter player to be drafted into the NBA, after Han Sen.

It was proof that Han's development program was working.

A few days later, Han flew to Memphis at the invitation of Robert Pera.

Pera, grateful for everything Han had done for the city, had gone all out to commission a statue of Han outside the FedExForum. He even brought in the sculptor behind Michael Jordan's iconic statue at the United Center.

For Pera, this statue wasn't just about honoring Han's legacy — it was the ultimate marketing move to ensure sellout crowds for years to come.

Han was asked to help pick the pose for the statue.

The Grizzlies dynasty had provided plenty of iconic moments:

His return to the court after an ankle injury during the first title run. The clutch mid-range dagger in Game 6 of the second championship. The 'steam punk' game in the third title, when he played through a high fever.

After some deliberation, Han chose the ankle-tape comeback moment for his statue.

Why?

Because that first championship was the most improbable and, therefore, the most meaningful.

After wrapping up the statue design, Han met up with old Grizzlies teammates Rudy Gay and Zach Randolph at a local spot on Madison Avenue.

Randolph, still known as the team's 'Black Bear,' remained a core piece for Memphis. But Gay?

His role had diminished. The team prioritized developing Andrew Wiggins and Dion Waiters, and Gay's touches were drying up.

Both players were set to hit free agency. Randolph's re-signing seemed likely, but Gay's future was murkier.

Over drinks, Gay finally opened up: "I'm done with Memphis."

Han cut to the chase. "What do you want? Rings or money?"

If it was rings, Han could pull some strings to bring Gay to Cleveland.

The Cavs had financial hurdles with Irving's new contract and pending renewals for TT and JR, but Dan Gilbert was willing to pay the luxury tax.

Gay would be a significant upgrade over P.J. Tucker and could bolster the Cavs' second unit.

"Money," Gay replied without hesitation.

Fair enough. At 29, with three rings already in hand, Gay wanted to cash in before his prime years ended.

Han didn't tell him where to go, but he did offer advice:

"Do what LeBron did."

LeBron's basketball skills might be questionable, but his business team?

That's a whole different story.

LeBron's 1+1 contract strategy gave him flexibility and maximized his earnings. Gay could do the same.

And with next year's cap boom, it was the perfect time to chase a big payday.

Gay seemed intrigued.

In fact, he already had a plan in mind.

"Then I guess… it's time for me to be a real King."

Han chuckled.

---

The day after drinking himself into a stupor, Han Sen received a call from Griffin.

Jokic had been 'kidnapped' and brought to Cleveland.

After saying goodbye to Gay and the guys, Han Sen headed back to the city. When he arrived at the Cavaliers' practice facility and saw Jokic in person, a knowing smile crept across his face.

"Of course…" Han thought.

While Jokic wasn't quite as round as Griffin had described the year before, his physique was very close to what Han remembered from the highlight reels. Seeing it up close, though, was a different level of shock.

The dude was big. Chunky. Or, as fans might say — like someone stuffed an entire vending machine into a jersey

Jokic, meanwhile, looked miserable. His expression was that of someone carrying a world of grievances on his shoulders.

Han turned to Griffin and asked about Jokic's current weight.

"Oh boy…" Griffin sighed. "He's at 300 pounds — 136 kilograms. That's almost peak Shaq weight!"

Griffin explained the source of Jokic's gloomy demeanor.

Turns out, Jokic was still hung up on the fact that he had to miss his beloved horse-racing event to be here.

Han wasn't too worried. After all, Jokic was a nobody in the NBA right now. Once he made a name for himself, he could spend every offseason horse racing if he wanted.

But first, Han wanted to see what Jokic could do on the court. He called Cunningham over for a quick 1-on-1 test.

What followed left Han Sen stunned.

Cunningham couldn't guard Jokic.

Sure, Jokic had a size advantage, but he hadn't played a single NBA game yet. Cunningham, meanwhile, was a rotation-level player known for his defense.

Han expected Jokic to fumble the ball, maybe get stripped a few times. Instead, Jokic's low-post game, especially his back-to-the-basket moves, looked polished.

Clearly, keeping Jokic in Serbia for another year had been the right call.

He was further along than Han had expected. With some fine-tuning, he could contribute to the Cavaliers right away.

But first — the man had to lose weight.

Griffin shared a story from the training staff.

"Jokic used to love drinking Coke. Like, really love it. He'd drink three liters a day. They had to wean him off of it, and he finally drank his last can on the plane to Cleveland."

Han chuckled. "Sounds like a kid at a gaming rehab camp."

"The team has him on protein shakes now," Griffin added.

But then Griffin dropped a surprise.

"The trainers also told me he doesn't have much confidence in making it in the NBA."

Han watched Jokic bully Cunningham in the post again and smiled.

"That's about to change."

It reminded Han of a story about Yao Ming.

Back in the day, Yao wasn't sure if he could make it in the NBA — until he dominated Tyson Chandler, the third pick in the draft.

After a while, Han switched things up.

Now, Cunningham would attack, and Jokic had to defend.

That's when Jokic's weaknesses were laid bare.

He couldn't keep up laterally. His foot speed was slow, his defensive reactions sluggish, and his physical strength underwhelming. His bulk was only good for shock absorption.

Cutting weight and building muscle was non-negotiable.

Luckily, Han knew exactly who could handle it — the best trainer in the world.

After wrapping up the scrimmage, Han took both Jokic and Cunningham out for a big meal.

Jokic was sulking over missing his horse-racing event, and Cunningham looked like a man who'd just been steamrolled by a rookie. They both needed a pick-me-up.

Han chose an Eastern European restaurant.

When they walked in and the smell of roasted meat hit their noses, Jokic's sour expression finally lifted.

And when plates of beef, sausages, and cheese were set down, his eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

Between mouthfuls of food, Han asked, "Got a place to stay?"

Jokic paused, chewed, and shook his head. "They gave me some advance money… so I can look for a place."

"Have Dante go with you. You're new here — easier to get ripped off."

"Sure thing, boss," Cunningham replied before Jokic could.

Despite getting worked over in practice, Cunningham seemed to genuinely like Jokic.

Jokic glanced from his plate to Han. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," Han smiled.

"We're both foreigners playing ball in a foreign land."

Han knew the importance of finding common ground. After all, he'd yanked Jokic away from a horse-racing event — he had to offer something in return.

But more importantly, Han understood the challenges international players faced in the U.S. It wasn't just about on-court performance. Language barriers, diet changes, cultural adjustments — all of it mattered.

Yī Jiàn Lián's struggles in the NBA came to mind. He hadn't failed because of a lack of talent, but because he hadn't navigated those off-court challenges well.

Jokic seemed to get it.

He nodded firmly at Han, then went back to devouring his food.

But by the time the meal was done, Jokic wore a pained expression.

Because Han had just laid out the post-meal plan.

A 996 training schedule — 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., six days a week.

And dietary restrictions, too.

As Jokic stared at the empty plates in front of him, he realized something horrifying:

The last can of Coke on that plane?

That wasn't just his last Coke.

This dinner?

That had been his last feast.

-End of Chapter-