NBA: Basketball Legend.

Chapter 108: Chapter 108: The Passing Master Levels Up, and the Crowd Roars “MVP!”

Chapter 108: The Passing Master Levels Up, and the Crowd Roars ”MVP!”

Isaiah Thomas called for a timeout, his expression a mix of frustration and helplessness.

The Knicks were falling apart—offensively, they had no structure; defensively, they weren’t just failing to stop one Suns player... they were failing to stop the entire Suns squad.

”You guys don’t deserve to wear Knicks jerseys!”

”Dolan, get out!”

”Sell the team, Dolan!”

”Fire Isaiah Thomas!”

During the timeout, the crowd erupted with boos and chants, holding up protest signs they’d obviously brought pre-made. The relationship between Knicks fans and the franchise was starting to resemble that of Chinese fans and their national soccer team—equal parts devotion and disdain. They loved them, hated them, and couldn’t look away even when it hurt.

The Knicks players sat on the bench, stone-faced. This wasn’t new. If the fans weren’t heckling them, they’d probably think something was wrong.

Mike Breen, on commentary, tried to keep it light.

”The Knicks look out of sync right now. Like a kite with a snapped string.”

Truth was, he was being generous. ”Out of sync” implied there was some coordination before. Tonight, it was just chaos.

Van Gundy, who once coached the Knicks and still had a soft spot for them, shook his head.

”They don’t look tired, they look... checked out. Someone get them some coffee.”

Out of the timeout, the Knicks went to the bench. David Lee and Wilson Chandler subbed in for Eddy Curry and Quentin Richardson. It was clear Isaiah Thomas wanted to see some hustle from the young guys.

And to his credit, David Lee responded. He crashed the offensive glass and drew a foul right away. Knocked down both free throws too, finally snapping New York’s scoring drought.

Still, the scoreboard didn’t lie—12 to 2 wasn’t that much prettier than 12 to 0.

Phoenix brought the ball back up. Boris Diaw skipped the usual routine. Instead of feeding Nash, he launched a full-court bomb past everyone—hitting Chen Yan right in stride at half-court.

Crawford picked him up, but it was a mismatch from the jump. Crawford might’ve been 6’6”, but he barely cracked 185 pounds. Chen Yan, at 205, had a 20-kilogram edge and wasn’t shy about using it. He lowered his shoulder and muscled his way to the free throw line.

Crawford wrapped him up to stop the play.

Beep!

As the whistle blew, Chen Yan tossed the ball toward the rim in one smooth motion.

Clang!

Swish!

The shot didn’t count—it was waved off—but he split the free throws.

Next possession, Marbury tried to create space, dancing with the ball. He launched a deep three over the outstretched hand—bang! It dropped.

13 to 5.

But the Knicks weren’t exactly back in rhythm. The following two plays? A turnover and a live-ball steal, both thanks to Chen Yan.

Isaiah had seen enough. He pulled Marbury at the next dead ball. As Marbury walked off the court, he didn’t even glance at Thomas. They passed each other like total strangers.

Their beef wasn’t behind closed doors anymore—it was obvious to everyone. Marbury felt like Thomas was out to get him. And to be honest, it kinda looked that way.

Meanwhile, back on the court, Chen Yan was back at it again.

Wilson Chandler tried to penetrate, then kicked the ball toward Crawford at the wing—but Chen read it like a book. [God-Level Steal] activated.

Snatch!

He exploded downcourt.

The Suns were already sprinting—classic three-lane fast break. Textbook execution.

Knicks were backpedaling, scrambling.

Chen Yan knifed through the middle, pulling the defense toward him. Then, without even looking, he whipped a no-look, behind-the-back dime to Nash on the wing.

Nash caught, set, and launched from deep.

Splash!

”That’s a beauty!” Mike Breen shouted. ”With Chen Yan pushing the break, Nash isn’t the sole playmaker anymore. That gives Phoenix a whole new look on the fast break. They’re not just fast, they’re unpredictable.”

As Chen Yan and Nash slapped hands in celebration, a system notification echoed in Chen Yan’s mind.

Ding! Passing Master has been upgraded!

Passing Master Lv2 (Active): Passing stability +7%, pass accuracy +7%, teammates’ field goal % +4% within 3 seconds of receiving a pass.

Chen Yan smiled. That was a nice surprise mid-game. The boost wasn’t huge, but it would sharpen his passing game and elevate his playmaking to another level.

By the time the first quarter clock hit 3:16, Chen Yan checked out with a line of 16 points, 5 dimes, and 3 steals.

Even as the Knicks found some rhythm on offense in the later part of the quarter, their defense remained a disaster. Rotations were slow, effort was lacking, and the Suns were feasting on fast breaks and mismatches.

At the first quarter, the Suns were up 31–15.

As the second quarter kicked off, Coach D’Antoni rolled out the second unit—and alongside them, Chen Yan hit the floor. The Knicks responded with their bench lineup, anchored by Nate Robinson and David Lee.

Right out the gate, Nate Robinson brought the crowd to life.

Using a well-timed screen, Nate slashed into the paint and detonated a one-handed slam! Madison Square Garden exploded in cheers—it was one of the rare electric moments for the Knicks tonight.

Nate’s energy ignited the offense, but his size? That was the glaring hole on defense.

On the Suns’ possession, J.J. Barea brought the ball up, with Chen Yan setting an off-ball screen at the top of the arc. Even off the bench, Chen didn’t need the ball to make an impact—his off-ball movement was deadly.

After the screen, the Knicks switched. Now it was Nate Robinson—officially listed at 5’9”, but more like 5’7”—matched up with Chen Yan. A serious mismatch.

Barea instantly saw it and hit Chen with a quick bounce pass near the paint. Chen was already one step inside the arc.

Time to go to work.

He took one power dribble, shifted sideways, then rose over the undersized guard. Easy layup.

Nate tried to contest, but after some contact, he couldn’t even get off the ground. Chen’s size and length did all the work.

Jogging back on defense, Chen let out a laugh.

”Man, never thought I’d be posting up in the Garden.”

And once he tasted blood, he kept going at it.

Every Suns possession turned into a hunt: use the pick-and-roll, force the switch, and go right at Nate.

First, a smooth rhythm dribble—then a step-back three. Cash.

Next trip, Chen danced back behind the arc and pulled up over Nate’s outstretched arms—again.

Then came the heat check.

Nate, fed up, dropped his stance and pressed up tight like he was trying to send a message.

Chen didn’t flinch.

Standing out at the 45-degree angle beyond the arc, he held the ball one-handed—no wasted movement. He just rose up and launched it.

Right in Nate’s face.

Swish!

The net snapped like a gunshot—pure.

Chen didn’t even talk trash. The shot said enough.

”Man, if I’m shaking you, that’s me showing respect,” he thought. ”If I just pull it in your face, it’s ’cause I know you can’t stop me.”

Three straight threes. Madison Square Garden started raining buckets—just not from the home team.

”Chen’s playing smart basketball,” Mike Breen said on the broadcast. ”He’s punishing mismatches and staying in rhythm.”

”That’s the kind of guy coaches love,” Van Gundy chimed in. ”Knows how to weaponize his advantages.”

Eventually, Knicks coach Isaiah Thomas had seen enough—he yanked Nate Robinson early.

Nate was averaging 12.5 points per game, one of the Knicks’ most potent bench scorers. Losing him this early? A real hit to New York’s firepower.

But it didn’t slow Chen down.

He kept torching whoever the Knicks threw at him.

By the 6:57 mark of the second quarter, the Suns’ starters checked back in—but the damage had already been done.

Scoreboard read: 57-35.

Phoenix up by 22.

With the cushion in place, the Suns starters started having fun.

Nash and Boris Diaw ran a clinic in the halfcourt—throwing lobs and slick passes like it was an All-Star Game.

Chen Yan, Stoudemire, and Grant Hill? They were flying in like bombers, attacking the rim with thunderous alley-oops and rim-grazing finishes.

The Knicks couldn’t keep up.

They weren’t even defending anymore—they were just... there.

”YOOOO!”

”SHEESH!”

”Teach ’em how it’s done!”

And suddenly—something weird happened.

The Garden flipped.

Knicks fans started cheering... for the Suns.

Not out of admiration—but out of spite.

They were disgusted with their own team, and Phoenix’s showtime basketball gave them something to get behind.

Then came the highlight of the night.

With 2:01 left in the half, Chen picked off a lazy pass from Quentin Richardson during a sloppy transition. It was his seventh steal of the game.

Without hesitation, he pushed the break. One behind-the-back move shed Jamal Crawford, and he dished to Nash sprinting up the middle.

Nash didn’t hesitate. Near the free throw line, he flicked the ball skyward with that signature no-look flare.

Chen Yan took flight.

The crowd held its breath.

David Lee rose to meet him—but Chen powered through the contact and hammered it home with one hand.

Whistle. Foul. Bucket.

And-one!

He clung to the rim for half a beat, absorbing the roar from the crowd.

Full marks for core strength.

Chen walked to the line with 36 points, 7 assists, and 7 steals already under his belt—and we weren’t even at halftime.

Then it happened.

The chant started low... then swelled louder and louder until it echoed through the rafters of Madison Square Garden:

”M-V-P! M-V-P! M-V-P!”

And leading the charge?

None other than Taylor Swift, beaming courtside in the front row.

She wasn’t getting booed like she would at Staples. No, here in the Garden, she was just another fan caught up in the madness.

Chen Yan smiled and nodded at the crowd—then turned, blew a kiss to the stands.

The place went wild.

On the other side of the floor, Kim Kardashian gave her sister a smug look.

”You saw that, right?” she said. ”That kiss was clearly for me.”

Khloe rolled her eyes.

”You sure about that?”

”Girl, please,” Kim snapped. ”I know the look. He saw me. Probably gonna end up in my bed tonight.”

Kim didn’t lack confidence. When she wanted something, she went for it—and right now, she had her sights locked on Chen Yan.

Back on the court, Chen was already locked in on the next possession.

And the Garden?

It was no longer the Knicks’ house.

It belonged to him.

Guys What do you think of a fanfic based on Tensura (That Time i got reincarnated as a slime?)

Want to know what happens next? You don’t have to wait....40+ Chapters ahead are already live on Patreon 👉 [email protected]/FanficLord03

And don’t forget: every +500 power stones = 4 bonus Chapters for everyone!

https://discord