bdsm-fiction Chapter 17 The $5 Throat-Slitting Ceremony
Chapter 17 The $5 Throat-Slitting Ceremony
2008年11月22日，上午10:00。
New York, Knicks Starrtown training facility.
On the bulletin board in the locker room, there was a newly faxed official penalty notice from the league.
That was the penalty decision issued by NBA Vice President Stu Jackson regarding Li Xiangbei's "throat-slitting" celebration gesture in San Antonio last night.
[Penalty Notice]
Player: Li Xiangbei (New York Knicks #8)
Violation: Making violent or threatening gestures at the end of the match.
Penalty: A fine of $25,000 USD.
The media had anticipated this, and some conservative commentators in New York had even criticized Li Xiangbei in newspapers as a "court thug," arguing that such actions would set a bad example for children.
"Twenty-five thousand US dollars..."
Nate Robinson stared at the ticket and clicked his tongue. "That's enough to buy a decent used car in Queens. Lee, that's expensive."
Li Xiangbei was changing his jersey when he heard this, and just shrugged indifferently: "If it can make that old man Popovich so angry that he can't sleep, then this money is well spent."
Just then, the locker room door was suddenly pushed open.
A short man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and an expensive custom-made suit walked in. He was followed by two assistants, one of whom was carrying a huge checkboard, like the kind used at award ceremonies.
It's the Knicks' owner, James Dolan.
This boss, who is usually elusive and nicknamed "foolish with too much money" by fans, was beaming with joy today, looking like he was in an exceptionally good mood.
"Hey! Where's my hero?" Dolan shouted as soon as he entered the room.
The entire team was stunned. The owner himself came to the locker room? This was a rare occurrence.
Li Xiangbei stood up: "Mr. Dolan."
Dolan strode up to Li Xiangbei, without even shaking hands, and directly instructed his assistant to stand up the huge checkboard.
It reads: Payment to the NBA: $25,000.
The signature is: New York Knicks Basketball Club.
"Here, kid." Dolan patted Li Xiangbei on the shoulder, his voice brimming with confidence. "The team will pay this fine for you!"
"What?!" Randolph's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Boss, this..."
"Listen up!" Dolan surveyed the team, his voice booming. "In New York, we don't need those soft, obedient babies. We need guts! We need that kind of swagger that can shut up 20,000 people in a hellhole like San Antonio!"
Dolan pointed to the checkboard and smiled at Li Xiangbei:
"Li, on my turf, that move that made Popovich slam his clipboard is worth at least $2.5 million, let alone $25,000! Or even more!"
"Next time there's another game-winning shot, you can be even more arrogant! Even if you jump onto the scorer's table and do a striptease, I'll cover the fine!"
A burst of cheers and whistles erupted in the locker room.
Randolph curled his lip sourly and muttered under his breath, "Boss, this is so unfair! I got fined for pushing someone in Detroit last time, why didn't I get the same treatment? And now they're deducting it from my salary..."
Dolan, with his sharp ears, overheard this and turned to glance at Randolph:
"Because that was a pushing foul, and the ball hadn't even gone in. But he..." Dolan pointed at Li Xiangbei, "That was a game-winner. You understand? That was a game-winner!"
Randolph was speechless and could only sullenly cover his head with the towel.
Li Xiangbei looked at this somewhat "willful" boss and smiled.
"Thank you, boss. But please, no striptease, I'm afraid it would frighten the children."
"Hahaha! I like you, kid!"
……
2:00 PM. A photography studio in Manhattan.
After finishing his morning training, Li Xiangbei was brought here by Bill Duffy to shoot his first brand image campaign for Under Armour after signing with the company.
Although their signature shoes haven't been released yet, UA is already eager to capitalize on this buzz to promote their compression wear.
The director, a long-haired, artistic young man, was explaining the scene to Li Xiangbei, holding the script:
"Li, here's our idea. You're shooting hoops in an empty gym, and with each shot, flashbacks of your tough training as a child appear. Then, a heartwarming voiceover says: 'Dreams begin with your first step.' Finally, you smile and sink the crucial shot. How about that? Pretty inspiring, right?"
Li Xiangbei frowned after hearing this.
"Heartwarming? Inspirational?"
Li Xiangbei shook his head, rejecting the idea outright.
"Director, audiences these days don't buy this anymore. They're tired of that kind of feel-good platitudes."
"So how do you want to film it?" the director asked, sounding a little annoyed.
Li Xiangbei pointed to the prop wall made of foam in the corner of the film set.
"Dim the lights. Leave only a beam of light shining on me from above."
As Li Xiangbei gestured, he said, "In the video, I'm tying my shoelaces in the dark. All around me are voices of doubt—'second-round pick,' 'softie,' 'yellow-skinned guy can't play basketball,' 'rookie wall'..."
Then, I stood up. There was no smile, only a cold look in my eyes.
"I don't even need to shoot."
Li Xiangbei made a kicking motion.
"I kicked the brick wall that said 'Rookie Wall' right off the bat. Then I walked over the rubble, leaving only my back to the camera."
The caption was just one sentence: "I don't break walls. I am the wall breaker."
The scene was completely silent.
A few seconds later, an Under Armour executive slapped his thigh: "Amazing! This is exactly the style we wanted! Hardcore! Rebellious! This is practically tailor-made for New Yorkers!"
The director was also stunned by the idea; although it was a bit violent, it was indeed...very cool.
The filming went very smoothly.
During a break, Li Xiangbei picked up his phone.
A multimedia message popped up on the screen. The sender was Scarlett.
When I clicked on it, it was a selfie.
In the photo, the Hollywood goddess is looking in the mirror, mimicking Li Xiangbei's "throat-slitting" gesture from last night. Her eyes are sharp, and she's even wearing dark red lipstick, making her look both sexy and dangerous.
The caption reads: "Looks like I'm a bit fiercer than you? Also, I heard you got fined? If you're short on rent, I can take care of you. [Evil grin]"
Li Xiangbei looked at the photo and couldn't help but smile.
He replied, "She's pretty fierce, though. But forget about being kept by a sugar daddy; I have a boss to foot the bill. But you, with that perfect move, are you planning to play a female assassin in your next film?"
……
8:00 PM. Li Xiangbei's apartment.
Peaceful days are always short-lived. The NBA is a place of fame and fortune; once you become famous, there will always be someone trying to step on you to climb to the top.
This time, the player who came knocking was Gilbert Arenas, the star player of the Washington Wizards, also known as "Agent Zero".
At this time, although Arenas was plagued by injuries, he was still one of the league's top scorers, a formidable player averaging over 29 points per game. Moreover, he was a notorious "blogger" who loved to spout nonsense online.
Li Xiangbei was eating takeout when David Lee called.
"Hey Lee! Check Gilbert's blog! That guy's challenged you!"
Li Xiangbei turned on his computer and found Arenas' latest blog post, with an extremely arrogant title:
To that lucky kid in New York: Some lessons must be taught by generals.
The article is filled with Arenas-esque arrogance:
"...I heard there's some kid named Lee who's really popular in New York lately? He made a lucky shot, did a throat-slitting gesture, and thinks he's the king of New York?"
"Kid, you haven't seen a real killer yet. In the East, I'm the examiner for all guards."
"I'll score 40 points tomorrow night in Madison. That's just the starting price."
"Let's make a bet. If you can keep me under 20 points, I'll eat the jersey I wore in this game, dipped in ketchup, in front of the entire arena!"
This blog post instantly went viral online.
The media was thrilled. One was a rising star, the other a seasoned super scorer. The tension was palpable.
The next morning, during the interview session at the training hall, the reporters couldn't wait to throw this question at Li Xiangbei.
"Lee! Did you see Gilbert's blog? He said he's going to score 40 points and he wants to bet you he'll eat his jersey! Do you dare to accept the challenge?"
The camera was focused on Li Xiangbei.
Li Xiangbei remained expressionless. He didn't speak, but instead bent down and took something from the locker behind him…
A bottle of Heinz ketchup that I just bought.
All the reporters present were stunned.
Li Xiangbei slammed the bottle of ketchup onto the interview table, right in front of the camera.
"Since Gilbert is so eager to have a good meal, how can I refuse him?"
Li Xiangbei pointed to the bottle of ketchup, a hint of mocking coldness in his eyes.
"I've prepared this sauce for him. It's a large bottle, plenty."
"Hopefully his appetite will be as big as his mouth tomorrow night. After all, jerseys aren't easy to digest."
The release of this interview video caused an uproar across the United States.
That's so audacious! They're bringing ketchup with them right into the fight?
Countless fans are eagerly anticipating tomorrow night's game. This is not just about winning or losing; it's a battle for dignity over "who eats the jersey."
Meanwhile, in the training facility in Washington.
Arenas was so angry while watching the news that he smashed his phone.
"Damn it! He actually dared to provoke me? I'm going to vote him out of the game tomorrow night!"
Unbeknownst to him, a new task had already been quietly generated on Li Xiangbei's system panel.
[Mission: The General's Dinner]
[Objective: Limit Gilbert Arenas' scoring to under 20 points.]
[Reward: Defensive Skill Pack - "Glove Entanglement (Gary Payton Edition)"]
Li Xiangbei looked at the task and a smile appeared on his lips.
"Payton's defensive package? Perfect, my defense needs an upgrade."
The next day, Madison Square Garden.
Scarlett Janssen turned down the invitation and reappeared in the front row.
"I heard someone's going to eat jerseys tonight?" Scarlett winked at the camera. "I brought popcorn to the show."