You are the pearl, Mo Mengchen

Chapter 810 This Dor.Mo is a fucking fake!

This Dor.Mo is fucking fake!

Joe Dumars originally wanted to wait until Mo Mengchen came back from Du Amelez to discuss contract renewal, but the fans couldn't wait.

"If we don't renew the contract now, do we have to wait until Dor.Mo is abducted by other teams before renewing the contract?"

"Is there a reason why no one can be found?"

"Let go of Big Ben, let Alan go, and made two stinky deals, and now you can't make consecutive appointments with Dor.Mo?"

The irritable fans almost wanted to kill Dumars.

For this, Dumas also evaporated in the public eye.

Since the words of the fans don't work, the media can only do it. Some media who usually speak for the Pistons began to point their guns at Dumars.

"Three big questions: Why did Joe Dumars do this trade? Why didn't he re-sign Dor.Mo? Will the Pistons still aim for the championship next season?"

This scathing article comes from the Detroit Worker, a diehard Pistons fan.

"Dor.Mo, Dor.Mo, what would we do without you?" The Detroit Good Night News couldn't stand it anymore.

Ever since, even the "Detroit Blue Flag", which has always been cynical about the Pistons, looked sorry, and even published an article called "Remembering Dor. Mo's six years in Detroit, paying tribute to greatness".

In the article, the Blue Flag newspaper expressed regret that the Pistons failed to renew Mo Mengchen, as if everything had been settled.

Pressed by the media, the quotations from the outside world became more and more frightening.

The Knicks even shouted the slogan "Even if it is 1 million a year, we must grab people."

Dumas thought that Mo Mengchen would not renege on their agreement, so he sat safely in the general manager's office. He was safe, but others were not, especially the boss.

Bill Davidson himself called and "greeted" Dumars.

"Sir, Mo and I have an agreement, he hopes to let the rumors fly for a while, so that there will be problems within the teams."

"He promised to sign with us."

"No, sir, I don't even know where he is now."

"Sir, listen to me, sir"

Davidson didn't talk nonsense with Dumars at all. In the last game, "I don't care where he is. Even if he flies out of the galaxy, you have to go to Houston to take an aviation probe to outer space to find him to sign! I want to see the result! The result in black and white! Do you understand?!!" (It's still the same sentence, it's more funny in English)

Before Dumas could answer, the boss hung up the phone.

Dumas looked at the phone and thought, this means I'm leaving my comfortable office and traveling to Australia?Put down a bunch of work at hand, right?
But think about it, what are these things compared to renewing the contract with Mo Mengchen?
The boss's concerns are not unreasonable. The NBA is a commercial league, and the weakest agreement is an oral agreement.

Mo Mengchen didn't even give him an unmistakable verbal agreement, but only expressed affirmatively that he would not leave.

You have to know that Barkley once promised Philadelphia that he would be their guardian angel, and then went to Phoenix to eat roast goose within a few years; the Chosen One once promised Kecun that he would keep his talent there forever, but you I also saw it.

Verbal agreements are not such a solid thing, not at all.

Dumas had to ask his assistant to book a ticket to Dua Merez.

The answer he got was that Dua Merez is located in an area of ​​Melbourne, and there is no airport, so he could only go to Melbourne first, and then call a taxi to Dua Merez.

Dumas was not afraid of trouble, he greeted Mo Mengchen in advance.

Mo Mengchen told him the address, and asked him to go directly to the only Steak Master chain restaurant within the Australian border - the Du Amerez branch to find him.

"Human beings are really strange creatures." Dumas said, "There are media analysis, as long as Mo is willing, he can make a lot of money every second, but he just wastes golden time hiding training, and holding gold Does this person know that wasting time is tantamount to murder?"

He complained all the way, and then flew to Melbourne.

When he walked out of the airport, no one recognized him as Pistons legend Joe Dumars.

On the road, extreme white people kept throwing strange eyes with color discrimination at him.

Dumas and his assistant came outside the airport and called a taxi to go to Du Amelez.

The taxi said: "Are you sure you want to go to the countryside?"

The taxis have good eyesight. A person like Dumas has a first-class aura and is either rich or expensive. How can he go to a place like Du Amerez after coming all the way to Melbourne?

"That's right, it's Duamarez." Dumas nodded affirmatively.

The driver looked at him inexplicably and didn't say much. No matter where he was going, the driver could send him there.

Duamerez

When Dumas got out of the car and saw this place for the first time, there was only one word that came to mind: miracle.

"How can such a place breed such a guy?" Dumas saw the sign of the steak master at a glance. There is only one such a high-end restaurant in such a countryside.

"There are no other guests." Dumas walked into the restaurant unexpectedly.

Mo Mengchen said flatly, "I don't want you to stop to sign autographs after half of your meal."

Dumas smiled awkwardly.

Doesn't Mo Mengchen know that the only Australian who thinks highly of him since he got off the plane is a well-informed driver?

"I'm a little hungry." Dumas patted the table, "Please bring me the menu."

Sadly, the menu here is all abbreviated, only the natives of Dou Amerez can understand it.

Dumas knew that it was Mo Mengchen who cooked the food himself, so he didn't pay much attention to it, so he chose a few dishes at random, and one of them was a Chinese dish - stir-fried pork liver with leeks, a favorite of empty people.

Mo Mengchen turned and walked towards the kitchen.

Dumas asked his assistant to take out all the contracts, and when he finished eating, he forced Mo Mengchen to sign the contract with lightning speed, so that he could call it a day.

Two and 10 minutes later, what Dumas asked for was out of the pan.

His eyes were immediately attracted by the stir-fried pork liver with leeks, "It's such a big piece of meat."

Dumas picked up the knife and fork, and planted a large piece of pork liver. The bright red color was like a turkey just out of the pan. I don’t know what kind of sauce it was on. The violent aroma aroused Dumas’ appetite. .

He swallowed and put the pork liver into his mouth.

"Wow." Dumas' eyes glowed, "How can it be so delicious?!"

"Amazing! What animal's liver is this?"

"An animal that looks like you, guess what it is?"

"I like pork!" Dumas exclaimed excitedly, "It's amazing! It's amazing! You don't play ball, come to the general manager's office and be a chef!"

Mo Mengchen wanted to make a recording, and then handed the recording to the boss.

He believed that Dumas would lose his job.

"I've eaten something similar in a Chinese restaurant before, but it's nothing compared to yours." Dumas ate pork liver with leeks this time, and said a vulgar remark while chewing, "It's just shit!"

Mo Mengchen personally helped him serve a bowl of rice, "Eating with white rice is not perfect."

Dumas's eyes lit up: "Can you mix it together and eat it?"

"That's nature, that's the essence of the dish."

Dumas quickly poured the leek and pork liver sauce into the rice, and the white rice immediately showed a delicious color. He took a knife and fork and swallowed it.

"Uh!!#!￥Ugh."

Mo Mengchen no longer knew what he was talking about.

"100% customer satisfaction - a success."

"75% full - success."

"Checkout - not yet complete."

"Estimated return: 1300."

When Mo Mengchen became a chef, he suddenly realized that playing games and performing surgery was a waste of time, and the attribute points of being a chef came too quickly.

He can cook a table of simple home-cooked dishes in 10 minutes, and the average customer can basically bring thousands of attribute points.

You know, a maximum of 800 attribute points is played in a game, unless it is doubled in the playoffs.

A normal operation would cost 6-700 attribute points, and a surgery would take at least two hours.

It only takes 10 minutes to satisfy a guest like Dumars, and the payoff is more exciting than you think.

Dumas is already basking in the quartet of sauce, chives, rice, and pork liver.

"Please have another bowl!"

Mo Mengchen helped him with the meal first, then saw the draft contract next to him, and took a look, the annual salary plus endorsement and advertising fees was close to 4000 million.

Although it is not as bold as the Knicks' so-called "5000 million a year to win", but for a team like the Pistons, it is already the limit.

Dumas sat down on the table like a dead fish after eating and drinking: "I don't want to leave, I'll just stay here with you, damn it!"

"You are the general manager."

"Why do you think I left my business and came here?"

"Isn't it just to let me sign the contract?" Mo Mengchen said, "I agree, send the official documents, and you can go back."

"No, I won't leave!" Dumas said angrily, "I'm here, why let me go?"

This person is still playing a rogue?
Modesty gentleman?Elegant and easy-going?The only good guy in the Legion of Bad Boys?The facade of the Pistons?
Boo Boo Boo!

"You want to leave me alone, but please settle the bill first."

"Check out?!" Dumas couldn't believe what he heard, "I came all the way to see you." He glanced at the clean meal from the corner of his eye, "Help you check Check the quality of the food—" hiccupped, "you ask me for money now?"

Mo Mengchen stretched out his hand blankly: "I can't complete the task if you don't give me money."

"What mission?"

"Leave it alone." Mo Mengchen hooked his fingers forcefully, "Hurry up, do you still want to eat the overlord's meal?"

The modest gentleman took out his wallet while being rude, and then settled the bill.

Mo Mengchen completed the task. It took about half an hour from Dumas to order the food until he finished eating. The attribute points he harvested were 1300.

"You can just charge me, why do you still look satisfied?"

"What exactly is your mission?"

"Say it!"

Mo Mengchen didn't want to talk to the runaway Dumas, but just smirked at the money in his hand.

Dumas felt his scalp go numb.

This Dor.Mo is fucking fake!

(End of this chapter)