Just as Wiggins powered through Butler for the bucket, the Timberwolves barely had time to react—before a burst of loud laughter erupted from the Kings' bench.
"Can you even guard him, Jimmy?!"
Rudy Gay jumped to his feet, towel waving in his hand, making no effort to hide his mockery of Butler.
"Uh… why does it feel like they're more excited than us after Andrew scored?"
Timberwolves backup center Gorgui Dieng had already lifted halfway out of his seat, only to be forcefully pressed back down by the Kings' taunting noise.
"Hmph."
Team locker-room leader Jeff Teague let out a heavy snort through his nose and said coldly,
"They don't even take us seriously."
Teague glanced at Dieng.
"When you play against kids and one of them scores over your head, your teammates get excited too."
Teague's words perfectly summed up the Kings' current mindset.
Playing against a bunch of rookies—it was honestly hard to feel any real competitive drive.
After the change of possession, Josh Richardson brought the ball up past half court.
Jokić stepped up first and set a solid, high-quality on-ball screen for Richardson.
Using Jokić's screen, Richardson easily squeezed past the Timberwolves' defense and drove straight into the paint. With his natural size advantage over Fox, Richardson met almost no resistance once he got inside.
Seeing the interior defense about to collapse, Taj Gibson, positioned on the weak side, had no choice but to slide laterally into the lane to cut him off.
But the instant Gibson stepped in, Richardson kicked the ball back out to the perimeter.
On the weak-side corner, Durant caught the pass and calmly drilled the open three.
"How can it be this easy?!"
Watching Durant fire away uncontested, Coach Thibodeau couldn't help but curse.
"They run one simple play and your entire defense falls apart?! Can you use your heads at all?!"
It was no wonder Thibodeau was furious. The play the Kings had just run was incredibly basic—something even streetball teams could execute.
A classic set: the big man steps up, the point guard drives, and the ball goes from inside back out.
Yet the Kings ran it cleanly, with almost zero resistance.
For a coach like Thibodeau, famous for discipline and structure, this was simply unforgivable.
But that was only the first appetizer. As the game went on, Thibodeau's blood pressure visibly continued to rise.
On defense, with Butler and Durant anchoring the wings, the Kings' foundation was rock-solid. Two full-sized wing defenders with terrifying lateral coverage made every Timberwolves basket feel like a grind.
And whenever the Timberwolves' offense stalled, the Kings immediately turned defense into offense.
Jokić grabbed the rebound and handed it off to Butler. Butler pushed past the three-point line, then swung the ball to either Josh Richardson or Booker near the middle. The two guards filled the lanes on opposite sides.
Even if the Timberwolves sold out to stop the first wave of the fast break, they couldn't stop the second.
Trailing right behind Booker and Richardson were Butler and Durant—the second line of insurance on the break.
"It's literally like playing against kids."
Thibodeau felt the blood rush straight to his head.
"You're all grown men—can you be even a little smarter?"
During the break between quarters, Thibodeau didn't bother hiding his anger as he tore into the team.
"And don't call yourselves Wolves anymore! You're Huskies—getting walked around like pets!"
It wasn't an overreaction. Anyone who understood basketball could see it clearly: the Kings had fully unfolded their system, and the Timberwolves were completely pinned down without a single answer.
"Coach, you can't put all the blame on them."
Seeing the atmosphere stiffen, Jeff Teague quickly stepped in to smooth things over, shooting repeated looks at Taj Gibson.
As the veteran who had been with Thibodeau the longest, Gibson also hurried over to calm him down.
"Coach, this really isn't Karl's fault. The gap in pure strength is obvious. What do you want us to do next?"
"What else can we do?"
With Teague and Gibson flanking him, Thibodeau's anger finally subsided a bit.
"In the second half, we speed things up too. Karl, protect the boards. Andrew and De'Aaron, be ready to run at all times. They like playing defense-to-offense? Fine—we'll do the same. I don't believe your young legs can't outlast theirs."
In just a few sentences, Thibodeau set the tone for the second half.
...
Over on the Kings' side.
"The Timberwolves will probably pick up the pace next,"
Coach Malone said, not even bothering to grab the clipboard.
"Jimmy and Kevin, take a breather. Rudy, you and Siakam go in. We're up anyway—let's slow it down, grind the half-court, and drain their stamina."
Malone looked completely at ease. By halftime, the Kings had posted a 70–48 lead—a massive 22-point advantage.
"Relax, Coach."
Gay said casually, chewing his gum.
"We'll just slice them up slowly and deal with those little wolf pups bit by bit."
Malone gave Gay an approving look.
Veterans really were different—one sentence was all it took.
...
As the break ended, the Golden 1 Center grew noticeably noisier than before.
With the Kings holding a huge lead, fans relaxed—chatting, scrolling through their phones, no longer glued to every possession.
"Wait."
Standing on the sideline, Thibodeau immediately sensed something off when he saw the Kings' lineup checking in.
Rose, Josh Richardson, Gay, Siakam, and Oden.
Among the Kings' starters, only Richardson was still on the floor.
"What kind of lineup is this?"
Thibodeau frowned deeply.
At a time when the entire league was obsessed with spacing, Malone had put together a lineup with terrible spacing.
Rose wasn't yet a three-point-heavy scorer, and Siakam hadn't developed his shot either. Was he not worried about the floor completely collapsing?
Before Thibodeau could fully figure it out, play had already resumed.
Rose brought the ball over half court, first running a crisscross screen with Richardson before handing the ball off. Rose then drifted to the 45-degree spot.
Using the opening created by the screen, Richardson spun and attacked the lane.
Seeing the defense about to give way, the Timberwolves immediately collapsed to cut off his drive. But the moment Richardson stepped inside, he kicked the ball to Gay waiting on the opposite side.
The defensive collapse left the Timberwolves slightly out of position, forcing them to shift again.
Gay caught the ball and, without pausing, fired a bounce pass to Siakam in the right corner.
Dieng, stationed in the mid-range area, tried to rotate over—but Oden suddenly appeared in his path, setting a rock-solid screen that stopped him cold.
At the same time, Richardson—who had faked the drive—snaked around Oden's screen like a dragon swinging its tail, slipping into a completely empty paint.
Right on cue, Siakam's pass arrived.
Richardson caught it and finished the layup with ease.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser