Basketball System: Hate Makes Me Unstoppable-Chapter 398: The Throne is Set.

After Han Sen announced his decision, the rest of the free-agent market finally started moving.

The biggest name?

Paul George.

He signed a four-year, $137 million deal with the Golden State Warriors.

This also meant the Warriors officially moved on from DeMarcus Cousins. His lingering injury issues had caused major disagreements in contract negotiations, and even the broader free-agent market was hesitant to touch him.

That was the harsh reality of the NBA—suffering a major injury in a contract year could destroy a player's market value.

As for George, his skill set was a perfect fit for the Warriors. Originally a 3&D player, he had developed strong shot creation, excellent off-ball movement, and elite perimeter defense. He would seamlessly slide into their system, easing the scoring load on the perimeter while maintaining their defensive identity.

Ironically, last season, the Warriors had traded away LeBron James in a controversial move.

Now?

They had replaced him with Paul George.

In a way, it was a blessing in disguise.

---

The day after the free agency moratorium ended, Han Sen prepared to leave Cleveland for Sacramento.

Nikola Jokić personally drove him to the airport.

This summer, Jokić had secured his future in Cleveland—signing a five-year, $148 million max extension with the Cavaliers.

Before Han left, Jokić handed him a gift.

Han had noticed the shopping bag in Jokić's hand when they got in the car. He had assumed Jokić had just made a quick stop at the store.

But when he opened it?

Han was stunned.

Inside was a golden crown.

Not just any crown.

A solid gold one.

Michael Malone had introduced a postgame award in Cleveland—a big, plastic gold chain that players would wear in the locker room after a standout performance. At first, it was just cheap plastic, later upgraded to gold-plated iron for fun.

But this?

This wasn't for fun.

This was real.

A crown worth at least six figures—a gift from Jokić.

More than the price, it was the meaning behind it.

Jokić was crowning him.

Han shook his head, laughing. "So this is how you're sending me off?"

Jokić grinned. "Felt appropriate."

Han wasn't surprised.

Since his decision to join the Kings, the media had already dubbed him the 'True King.'

Even Shaq had said it on TNT:

"Sacramento finally got their real King."

Han knew that, whether he wanted it or not, the nickname was going to stick.

As they reached the airport, Jokić hesitated before speaking.

"Boss... it's gonna be weird without you."

For years, he had followed Han's lead—a dominant force he could always rely on.

Now?

He was the leader.

And he wasn't sure he was ready.

Han patted him on the shoulder.

"Some people are born leaders. But most? They don't get a choice. History picks them."

Jokić still looked uneasy.

So Han grinned. "Stay confident. I expect to see you in the Finals."

Jokić blinked. Then smiled.

Han had said earlier that they'd meet in the playoffs again.

Now that they were in different conferences?

If they were going to clash again...

It would have to be in the NBA Finals.

Han stepped out of the car and waved goodbye.

Jokić wasn't the only one sending him off.

Outside the airport?

Hundreds of Cavaliers fans had gathered.

They weren't trying to convince him to stay.

This wasn't a desperate plea.

This was a farewell.

Han raised his hand, waving one last time.

And just like that?

His Cavaliers Chapter was over.

---

Han had slept through most of the flight.

When he woke up, the plane was already descending toward Sacramento International Airport.

The name Sacramento had always sounded remote—as if it were some tiny, middle-of-nowhere town.

But in reality?

It was California's capital.

New novel 𝓬hapters are published on freёwebnoѵel.com.

Sure, it wasn't Los Angeles or San Francisco.

But it wasn't insignificant, either.

In a way, it reminded Han of Washington, D.C.—a capital city often overshadowed by larger, flashier neighbors.

Even though Han had played here before, his experience was limited to NBA road games.

Now that he was moving in, he had taken time to learn about the city.

And what he found?

It had a rich history.

Sacramento wasn't just some random city—it was where the California Gold Rush started.

Originally settled by the Swiss, the city had been a small outpost until one day, while building a sawmill, someone found gold in the Sacramento River.

From that moment on?

Tens of thousands of Americans rushed west chasing their dreams.

The Gold Rush built this city.

Han chuckled to himself.

The first American movies he had ever watched as a kid?

Westerns.

Cowboys, prospectors, and the rush for gold.

He had never known that all those stories traced back to here.

Now?

He was walking into a city with unfinished history.

---

As Han stepped off the plane, he was greeted by more than just Kings executives.

Sacramento's mayor was there too.

In Cleveland, the mayor had only shown up after Han had delivered a championship.

But here?

He had barely landed.

That was a statement.

It wasn't just about respect—it was about who this mayor was.

Most NBA players, after retirement, stayed in basketball in some way.

Some became coaches. Some ran training camps like Kobe. Others, like Han, aimed to become owners.

But this guy?

He chose politics.

Kevin Johnson had been an NBA All-Star point guard before retiring in 2000.

Instead of jumping into broadcasting or coaching, he went into public service.

By 2008, he was the mayor of his hometown—Sacramento.

And he had held that position ever since.

Han hadn't known much about him before.

But as Divac introduced them, Han realized something:

They had a lot more in common than he expected.

Once they got into the car, the conversation flowed effortlessly.

Basketball gave them an immediate connection.

But Johnson?

He wasn't just excited about Han as a player.

He was excited about what Han meant for the city.

"For me, this isn't just about the Kings," Johnson said. "This is about Sacramento."

Han glanced at him.

Johnson continued, "Look at Cleveland. It wasn't just about the Cavs. That whole city came back to life."

And he wasn't wrong.

Cleveland's economy had boomed with Han there.

It wasn't just team valuation. It was bars, restaurants, hotels—businesses thriving again.

Even population growth had been tied to the Cavaliers' success.

And now?

Sacramento wanted that same revival.

The city had once thrived during the Gold Rush—a booming hub for dreamers looking to strike it rich.

But once the gold ran out?

The city's prosperity faded.

These days, Sacramento relied on agriculture and tech.

It was the largest agricultural trade center in the U.S. and a key hub for rocket engine production and fuel.

But in entertainment?

It was weak.

And that was where Han changed everything.

Johnson made it clear—this wasn't just about basketball.

It was about business.

It was about reviving the city.

And it made sense.

Cleveland had seen it happen.

Sacramento?

They were about to witness it firsthand.

Johnson leaned forward.

"But here's where we have an even bigger advantage than Cleveland."

Han raised an eyebrow.

"We're the capital of California."

And suddenly?

It clicked.

Sacramento wasn't just some small-market underdog.

It was the political heart of the most powerful state in the U.S.

Even if it wasn't as glamorous as L.A. or as tech-driven as San Francisco, it had infrastructure, investment opportunities, and untapped commercial potential.

"In terms of business," Johnson continued, "Sacramento has way more room to grow than Cleveland ever did. We're already a hub for tech startups. We have Silicon Valley companies setting up here because it's cheaper. The only thing we're missing?"

He turned to Han.

"A global sports icon to put us on the map."

And Han?

Han understood it now.

Cleveland had been revitalized because of him.

But Sacramento had the potential to surpass it.

---

Later that day, Han attended a public welcome rally hosted by the city.

It was overwhelming.

Three full streets surrounding the venue were completely shut down.

All Han could see was people—miles of people.

And this?

This was just Day 1.

When Han stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupted.

Barkley had been right—Han wasn't choosing cities anymore.

Han changed cities.

Johnson was the first to speak, giving Han an official welcome.

Then, Han took the mic and made a short speech, explaining why he chose the Kings.

Well, the public version of his reasons.

"Sacramento has been waiting for a true franchise player for decades. I'm here to change that."

He spoke about how Sacramento was a team with potential.

How he loved challenges.

How he had come to love the city.

And in the end?

He made a promise.

"I'm going to bring a championship to Sacramento. We're going to make this city thrive—just like the Gold Rush days."

And with that?

Han unlocked a signature achievement:

Every time he arrived in a new city, he promised a championship.

The crowd went insane.

Newer Kings fans were stunned.

To them, this was just bold talk—Sacramento was a young, inexperienced team.

But longtime Kings fans?

They knew better.

Every team Han had ever made this promise to?

He hadn't just won championships.

He had built dynasties.

And suddenly?

Sacramento didn't feel like such a long shot anymore.

---

After the rally, Han headed to his temporary estate, arranged by Vivek.

The drive through Sacramento lined up with everything he had researched.

Most of the city's key landmarks were downtown—like the rocket research facility and the Kings' newly opened Golden 1 Center.

Meanwhile, the wealthy resided in the suburbs.

It reminded Han of Cleveland—except hotter.

Unlike Cleveland, this was central California. No ocean breeze. No lake effect. Just dry, relentless heat.

Even with all the trees lining the roads, stepping out of the car felt like getting hit by an open oven.

"Yup," Han muttered. "Definitely California."

He took a quick shower.

Then? Straight to business.

Seated with Rondo and Divac, Han discussed his own trade.

Divac had already started negotiations with Griffin. The framework was there.

Sacramento's offer:

- George Hill to match salaries.

- One of their young stars—Mitchell, Tatum, or Doncic.

Compared to past superstar trades, Cleveland was getting less than before—but that was the nature of sign-and-trades.

And compared to what the Cavs got when LeBron left?

This was a goldmine.

Han could force Sacramento to keep all three rookies and trade Buddy Hield instead.

But would that be smart?

Han knew better than anyone—there was only one basketball.

Young players needed touches. Touches led to stats. Stats led to bigger contracts.

If Sacramento hoarded too many ball-dominant young stars, they'd implode before they could contend.

Divac made his recommendation: Tatum.

- Tatum was less polished than Mitchell.

- Doncic was still a mystery box.

Divac explained his reasoning. Then turned to Rondo.

But Rondo?

He turned straight to Han.

Because the real decision-maker in Sacramento wasn't Divac.

It wasn't even Rondo.

It was Han Sen.

This was the one demand Han had given every team that pursued him.

Sacramento was no exception.

Han had final say.

On everything.

Including his own trade.

---

Han shook his head.

Tatum stays.

He was the only one who didn't need the ball to thrive.

After a pause, Han gave his verdict.

"Luka."

Divac nodded.

Doncic had the highest ceiling.

But developing him required everything to revolve around him.

To reach his "historical" level? He needed the ball. A lot.

His defense? A liability. Someone would always have to cover for him.

And the biggest issue?

Doncic was heliocentric.

Han was heliocentric.

Two suns don't orbit each other.

What was Han supposed to do?

Turn into Kyrie Irving and let Luka run the show?

That was never happening.

Before Han arrived?

Doncic had been Sacramento's future.

But now?

He was expendable.

Mitchell, on the other hand?

- Smaller, but freakish wingspan.

- Elite defender.

- Explosive athleticism.

And most importantly?

He was already proving himself.

Last season, Mitchell had made an immediate impact.

Han's decision to join Sacramento had shaken the league.

He was being trashed relentlessly.

The fastest way to shut them up?

Win. Now.

And Mitchell gave Han the best chance to do it.

The choice was made.

The Kings would trade Luka.

And Han's revenge tour was about to begin.