"Swish!"
The ball dropped cleanly through the net.
"They've got something,"
Paul muttered. As an old rival, his eyes lit up for a moment before quickly dimming again.
The Kings' tactical execution was even more polished than before.
Paul had thought that losing key rotation players like CJ and Bojan would weaken the Kings, but once the game actually started, it was clear—their overall tactical level had climbed another notch.
"Let's speed it up,"
Paul said quietly after receiving the inbound.
"Got it."
As a tactical savant himself, Harden also realized that playing a half-court game against the Kings would only put them at a disadvantage.
They might as well push the pace—more possessions meant more firepower, and it could also disrupt the Kings' rhythm and offensive setups.
"Move, move, move!"
Paul shouted as he dribbled upcourt.
Hearing his call, the rest of the Rockets instinctively accelerated.
The ball whipped around quickly before finding Harden on the perimeter.
Harden caught it, snapped into a sharp change of direction, and drove hard toward the lane.
Booker braced himself. Facing one of the league's very best scorers, even with his defensive improvement lately, James Harden was still a handful.
Booker took a step back to cut off the drive. But at the instant he could no longer retreat, Harden suddenly gathered the ball and stepped back twice in rapid succession, landing behind the three-point line.
Everything happened in a split second. Booker reacted a beat too late—his center of gravity slipped, his left foot tangled with his right, and he went down hard.
A wave of gasps echoed through the Golden 1 Center.
Harden glanced at the fallen Booker, adjusted his posture, and calmly buried the three.
"Incredible,"
Mr. Tsai said in the VIP suite, unable to hide his admiration.
"Watching Harden score is like watching art. Getting buckets for him is effortless."
"In the past two years, there's barely anyone in the league better than Harden offensively,"
Chen Yilun agreed from the side.
"This Rockets roster is incredibly well-constructed—two elite perimeter stars, Ariza as a top-tier 3-and-D wing, and Capela as a high-level pick-and-roll finisher. Their offensive output is terrifying."
"Yilun, who do you think wins tonight?"
Mr. Tsai suddenly asked.
"Me?"
Chen Yilun answered almost without thinking.
"Of course we win."
"Oh?"
Mr. Tsai smiled.
"That confident? Why?"
"It's simple,"
Chen Yilun said after organizing his thoughts.
"Basketball is a high-intensity, back-and-forth sport. Aside from a very small number of players, almost no one can maintain peak competitiveness for an entire game at this level."
"Harden and Paul might be the strongest backcourt duo in the league—arguably without exception—but their stamina can't sustain that level all night. The moment one of them has to sit, that's when we pull away."
"I see,"
Mr. Tsai nodded repeatedly.
"So you're planning to win with bench depth."
"No wonder they say outsiders watch the excitement while insiders watch the details,"
he added with a laugh.
"I've just been watching for fun all this time. I've learned something today."
Just as Chen Yilun predicted, under Malone's deliberate control, the game stayed at a steady pace. As Durant gradually took over the offensive load,
even with constant adjustments from the Harden–Paul duo, the score hovered within one or two possessions.
As the game wore on, the rhythm slowly shifted into the Kings' hands.
The real turning point came when Ariza went to the bench. The moment he sat, Butler—who had been tightly contained—came alive, relentlessly attacking the Rockets' interior.
Paul saw it happening from the perimeter but had no solution.
For Houston, their true defensive backbone was the inside-out pairing of Ariza and Capela. Once either one left the floor, their defense immediately dropped several levels.
On offense, the Rockets' perimeter attack was completely locked down by the ironclad trio of Booker, Butler, and Siakam.
"The outcome is decided,"
Coach Malone muttered as he watched from the sideline.
"This is easier than I expected."
"No,"
Chris Finch suddenly spoke up beside him.
"Something's not right."
"What is it?"
Malone asked, surprised.
With Monty and Ham joining the staff this season, Finch's role had gradually been reduced. Most of his responsibilities now centered on building the team's defensive schemes.
"The Rockets' defensive strategy feels wrong,"
Finch said with a frown.
"It doesn't look like a playoff-level plan a professional coaching staff would put together."
"What do you mean?"
"Look,"
Finch stood up and pointed at the Rockets' positioning on the court.
"Their defense is loose—especially on the perimeter. Harden and Paul aren't defensive specialists, but this is still far too soft. It feels like it could collapse with just one poke."
With Finch's reminder, Malone finally noticed the issue as well.
The Kings were playing far too smoothly tonight.
This wasn't like the first-round series against the Timberwolves, where it was obvious those young Wolves wanted to defend but simply weren't good enough.