NBA: Dating a Pop Diva Earns Him a Three-pointer from the Green. NBA: Dating a Pop Diva Earns Him a Three-pointer from the Green
Chapter 1: Termination Notice and Bar Encounter
"This is your flight back home. Nine tomorrow morning."
A thin piece of paper was tossed onto the desk.
No buffer.
No comfort.
The speaker was the Lakers' assistant coach.
That fat white guy who was always smiling.
Right now.
Only business-like indifference remained on his face.
Lin Feng stared at the ticket.
From Los Angeles to Shanghai.
Economy class.
"Lin, your ten-day contract is up."
The assistant coach didn't even sit down.
He stood at the door, glancing at the watch on his wrist.
"Management doesn't plan to renew."
"You know, we need immediate contributors with more experience."
"Not a rookie who's still adjusting to the physicality."
Lin Feng's fingers pressed against the ticket.
His knuckles turned white from the force.
He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anger surging in his chest.
"I shot eighty percent from three in the last scrimmage."
Lin Feng spoke.
His voice was raspy.
The assistant coach waved his hand impatiently.
"That was a scrimmage."
"And it was while you were unguarded."
"Lin, face reality."
"Your physical play is too weak."
"The NBA isn't a kindergarten."
"This is a gladiator arena."
With that.
The assistant coach turned and left.
"Pack your things. Don't make it hard for the cleaners."
The door slammed shut.
Lin Feng was left alone in the office.
The air was terrifyingly quiet.
Lin Feng let out a self-deprecating laugh.
He was a transmigrator.
He had come to this parallel world's 2013 a year ago.
He originally thought that with his memories from his past life and this handsome face comparable to Daniel Wu, he could make a name for himself in this world.
He chose basketball.
Because this body was 1.98 meters tall.
The standard build of a shooting guard.
Plus, he had been a basketball fan in his previous life.
Day after day of hard practice.
Combined with the soft touch of an Easterner.
He finally reached the threshold of the NBA.
He even landed a ten-day contract with the Lakers at the end of this season.
He thought this was the beginning of his dream.
He didn't expect.
That this would be the end of the nightmare.
Lin Feng stood up.
He grabbed his worn-out training bag.
And walked out of the office.
The hallway was long.
Both sides were lined with the Lakers' historical honors.
Magic Johnson's smile.
Abdul-Jabbar's skyhook.
O'Neal's dominant dunks.
Every photo seemed to be mocking the current Lin Feng.
You don't deserve to be here.
As he passed the training court.
Lin Feng stopped in his tracks.
Through the glass window.
He saw that familiar figure.
Kobe Bryant.
Wearing training gear, sitting on the sidelines.
His right foot was wrapped in thick bandages.
A ruptured Achilles tendon.
This was the darkest moment of Kobe's career.
And the beginning of the collapse of the Los Angeles Lakers dynasty.
That obsessive man was staring intently at his teammates on the court.
Clenching a tactical board in his hand.
Looking as if he wanted to crush it.
Lin Feng could feel the sense of unwilling frustration coming from Kobe.
Just like himself right now.
Clearly wanting to win.
Yet powerless to do so.
"If only I had enough strength..."
Lin Feng clenched his fists.
If only he could help that man.
If only he could stay at the Staples Center.
Unfortunately.
There were no "ifs."
Lin Feng withdrew his gaze.
He turned and walked toward the arena's main entrance.
He pushed open the door.
The night wind of Los Angeles rushed in.
It was very cold.
April in Los Angeles; the nights were not gentle.
The streetlights stretched out his shadow.
Making him look exceptionally lonely.
Lin Feng didn't want to go back to that cramped rental room.
There was only instant noodles and unwashed jerseys there.
Since he was getting kicked out anyway.
He might as well indulge one last time.
He felt his pocket.
There were still a few hundred dollars inside.
That was all that remained of his salary.
Lin Feng hailed a taxi.
"To the nearest bar."
Twenty minutes later.
In front of a bar named "Nightfall."
Heavy metal music was deafening.
Neon lights flickered with an ambiguous glow.
Lin Feng walked inside.
The air here was a mix of alcohol, perfume, and sweat.
On the dance floor.
Men and women twisted their bodies wildly.
Venting their excess hormones.
Lin Feng found a seat in the corner and sat down.
"Give me a bottle of your strongest whisky."
He shouted to the bartender.
The bartender was a burly Black man who let out a whistle.
"Hey, handsome, heartbreak?"
Lin Feng ignored him.
He took the bottle and chugged a large gulp.
The pungent liquid burned its way down his throat.
His stomach churned.
But this burning sensation.
Made him feel slightly better.
At least it was better than the coldness in his heart.
Glass after glass.
Lin Feng's vision began to blur.
The surrounding clamor seemed to drift further and further away.
Just then.
A burst of piercing jeers caught his attention.
At a booth not far from him.
Several men dressed in hip-hop style were surrounding a girl.
Those men had fleshy faces.
Their eyes filled with undisguised lewdness.
And the girl surrounded in the middle.
Was Asian.
Long hair draped over her shoulders.
Wearing a simple white slim-fit T-shirt.
Denim shorts.
Revealing a pair of long legs that practically glowed white.
Even in the dim light.
That face was still breathtakingly beautiful.
Exquisite as a porcelain doll.
But right now.
Her state was clearly not right.
Her cheeks were flushed with an unnatural red.
Her eyes were dazed.
Her body swayed.
She seemed unable to even sit steadily.
"Hey beauty, all alone?"
A bald Black man placed his hand on the girl's shoulder.
"How about coming to play with us?"
The girl shook off his hand in disgust.
She tried to stand up.
But her legs went weak.
She slumped back onto the sofa.
"Get... get away..."
She cursed in Korean.
Her voice was soft and weak.
Without any deterrent power.
Instead, it aroused the men's desire.
"Oh, she's a Korean girl."
The bald man laughed even more arrogantly.
"I can't understand what you're saying, but your body is quite honest."
With that.
He reached out directly to grab the girl's wrist.
The people around were watching coldly.
This kind of thing was too common in bars.
No one was willing to look for trouble for a stranger.
Except for Lin Feng.
He narrowed his eyes.
The alcohol made his brain a bit sluggish.
But he still recognized the girl at a glance.
Yinna.
Yuna Kim.
The center of a Korean girl group famous worldwide.
Known as the "National Goddess."
Lin Feng had seen her countless times on TV in his past life.
He didn't expect.
That he would encounter her in a mixed-up bar like this in Los Angeles.
And in this state.
It was obvious.
She had been drugged.
The bald man's hand was almost touching Yinna's chest.
Yinna closed her eyes in despair.
A tear slid from the corner of her eye.
Bang!
A loud noise.
A long, powerful hand.
Firmly gripped the bald man's wrist.
"Take your filthy hands off."
Lin Feng's voice wasn't loud.
But it was as cold as a stone in an ice cellar.
The bald man was stunned.
He turned his head.
And saw the upright Lin Feng.
Lin Feng's 1.98-meter height.
Gave him a natural sense of oppression in this setting.
The bald man only reached Lin Feng's chest.
He had to look up to see Lin Feng's face clearly.
"Who are you?"
The bald man felt like his wrist was caught in a pair of iron pliers.
The pain made him grimace.
"I'm someone you can't afford to provoke."
Lin Feng suddenly applied force with his hand.
A soft "crack" sounded.
It was the sound of a bone dislocating.
"Ah!"
The bald man screamed.
His body involuntarily fell to his knees.
"Let go of the boss!"
Seeing this, the thugs nearby immediately surrounded him.
They grabbed bottles.
The atmosphere instantly became tense.
Lin Feng didn't back down.
He let go of the bald man.
And casually grabbed the half-bottle of whisky on the table.
"Who wants to be the first to die?"
Lin Feng stared at the thugs.
His gaze was fierce.
It was a ferocity honed from being knocked down again and again on the court.
Combined with his height advantage.
It actually managed to intimidate those people.
Taking advantage of the moment they were stunned.
Lin Feng pulled Yinna up from the sofa.
"Follow me."
Yinna opened her eyes groggily.
She only saw a tall back.
Like a mountain.
Standing in front of her.
She instinctively gripped the corner of Lin Feng's clothes.
Like grabbing onto a final lifeline.
"Trying to run?"
The bald man stood up, clutching his wrist.
His face was contorted.
"Kill him!"
Lin Feng didn't waste words.
He directly smashed the bottle in his hand onto the ground.
Smash!
Glass shards flew.
The massive sound made the entire bar go quiet for a moment.
"Let's see who dares to move!"
Using this opening.
Lin Feng scooped up the semi-conscious Yinna.
Pushed through the crowd blocking the way.
And sprinted toward the bar's back door.
Chapter 2: Hotel Night and System Activation
The wind whistled past his ears.
Lin Feng carried Yinna in his arms as they rushed out of the back alley of the bar.
The girl in his arms was as hot as a furnace.
Her soft body rubbed against him incessantly.
Unconscious moans escaped her lips.
That sound.
It was practically challenging the limits of a man's endurance.
"Damn it, how high a dose did those bastards give her?"
Lin Feng cursed under his breath.
The sounds of chaotic footsteps and shouting came from behind.
"Don't let him get away!"
"Catch that kid!"
The gang of thugs was chasing after them.
Lin Feng didn't dare to stop.
Relying on the physical fitness he had built up in Los Angeles over the past two months.
He carried Yinna, who weighed less than a hundred pounds.
He moved with swift, light steps.
He crossed two blocks.
And shook off the pursuers behind him.
Lin Feng gasped for air.
His lungs felt like they were on fire.
He looked up.
It was a hotel that looked reasonably high-end.
The Hilton.
Lin Feng felt the wallet in his pocket.
He bit his lip.
This was the very last of his savings.
But looking at Yinna writhing in pain in his arms.
He had no choice.
"Give me a room."
Lin Feng rushed to the front desk.
He slapped his credit card and passport on the desk.
The receptionist was startled by his fierce appearance.
She glanced at the girl with disheveled clothes in his arms.
Her gaze immediately became a bit strange.
"Hurry up!"
Lin Feng growled.
The receptionist tremblingly completed the check-in process.
"1208, sir."
Lin Feng grabbed the room card.
He rushed into the elevator carrying Yinna.
The moment the elevator doors closed.
Yinna suddenly reached out with both arms.
She tightly hugged Lin Feng's neck.
Her burning lips pressed against his neck.
Her hot, moist breath sprayed onto his skin.
"Hot..."
"Help me..."
She whispered in Lin Feng's ear.
Her voice carried a sob.
Lin Feng's body stiffened for a moment.
As a young man full of vigor.
This scene was simply deadly.
But he didn't have the habit of taking advantage of people in distress.
At least not yet.
"Endure it, we're almost there."
Lin Feng patted her back.
Trying to calm her down a bit.
But clearly, it was useless.
The drug's effects had completely taken hold.
Yinna began to tear at her own clothes.
Her already thin T-shirt.
Was instantly pulled wide at the neckline.
Revealing the black lace edge underneath.
And a large expanse of snow-white skin.
The elevator arrived.
Lin Feng almost fled into the room while carrying her.
He threw her onto the bed.
Lin Feng turned and rushed into the bathroom.
He filled a basin with cold water.
Splash!
The towel was soaked in cold water.
He applied it directly to Yinna's forehead.
"Wake up!"
Lin Feng held down her flailing hands.
Yinna was startled by the cold water.
She quieted down for a few seconds.
But soon.
An even more intense wave of the drug's effects surged back.
Her eyes had completely lost focus.
Leaving only the most primal desire.
She suddenly sat up.
She grabbed Lin Feng, who was wiping her sweat.
The two of them rolled onto the carpet together.
Yinna was like a beautiful serpent.
She entwined herself around Lin Feng.
Her hands wandered haphazardly over his body.
She even reached under the hem of his T-shirt.
Touching the firm muscles of his abdomen.
"Give it to me..."
"Please..."
Yinna's voice had become hoarse.
Her nails scratched red marks onto Lin Feng's back.
That expression of desire mixed with pain.
Was enough to destroy any man's reason.
Lin Feng looked at the woman beneath him.
This face.
Was the dream of countless shut-ins across Asia.
She was the unattainable center of a girl group.
At this moment.
She was lithely begging for pleasure beneath him.
If he didn't save her.
This potent drug might fry her brain.
Or even be life-threatening.
Send her to the hospital?
It was too late.
And she was a public figure.
If she were sent to the hospital, it would be global headlines tomorrow.
Her career would be ruined.
Lin Feng swallowed hard.
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
His reason was collapsing bit by bit.
"You asked for this yourself."
Lin Feng's voice was terrifyingly low.
He grabbed Yinna's flailing wrists.
He pinned her to the carpet.
He looked down at her from above.
Yinna seemed to feel that masculine pressure.
Instead of being afraid.
She met him even more frantically.
She took the initiative to kiss Lin Feng's lips.
Boom!
The last string in Lin Feng's mind snapped.
To hell with reason.
To hell with being a gentleman.
He was an outcast abandoned by the Los Angeles Lakers.
A loser with nothing.
Since the heavens had delivered such a stunner to his doorstep.
Why not take her?
Lin Feng no longer suppressed himself.
He took the initiative.
Roughly responding to her demands.
The sound of tearing clothes echoed in the room.
Outside the window, Los Angeles was brightly lit.
Inside the room was also a scene of passion.
It was a primal struggle.
Yinna drifted between pain and pleasure.
Her nails dug deep into Lin Feng's shoulders.
Leaving her mark upon him.
Time seemed to lose all meaning.
No one knew how much time had passed.
When everything finally settled.
Lin Feng collapsed onto the bed, drenched in sweat.
Yinna had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Curled up in his arms.
Like a wounded kitten.
Just as Lin Feng was preparing to close his eyes and rest.
A cold, mechanical voice.
Suddenly exploded in his mind.
[Ding!]
[Detected that the host has completed a deep intimate link with an ss-rank charm target!]
[Target identity identification: Top global girl group center, Yinna.]
[Determined intimacy: Negative distance contact (highest level).]
[charm basketball system, officially activated!]
Lin Feng snapped his eyes open.
A system?
As a transmigrator, he naturally knew what this was.
But there had been no movement for a year since he arrived.
Why now of all times?
Could it be... this was the activation condition?
Before he could even react.
The system's voice continued to sound.
[Newbie Gift Pack has been distributed.]
[Given that the host's first target is an SS-rank high-influence female.]
[Reward Critical Hit!]
[Congratulations to the host for obtaining the SSS-rank skill pack: Midorima Shintaro's Full-Court Three-Pointer (Complete Form)!]
Lin Feng's pupils contracted sharply.
Midorima Shintaro?
That freakish shooter from "kurokos basketball"?
Full-court three-pointer?
The skill that allows a 100% hit rate from anywhere on the court as long as it's not blocked?
A massive stream of information instantly flooded his brain.
Accompanying it.
Was a warm current flowing through his entire body.
It was muscle memory being reshaped.
The muscles in his arms trembled slightly.
Seeming to adapt to a new way of exerting force.
Lin Feng raised his hand.
He made a shooting gesture in the air.
That feeling.
Was clearer than ever before.
As if the hoop were right in front of him.
As long as he took the shot.
It would definitely go in.
Lin Feng turned to look at the sleeping Yinna beside him.
His gaze became complex.
This woman.
Not only had she helped him bid farewell to his virginity.
But she had also allowed him, in this cruel world of basketball.
To obtain the key to the throne.
"It seems I don't need to go back home after all."
A wicked smile curved at the corners of Lin Feng's mouth.
Chapter 3: All-Range Three-Pointer and the Goddess's Morning
The first ray of morning sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains.
It happened to shine right on Lin Feng's face.
He frowned slightly.
He opened his eyes.
His whole body was sore.
It wasn't just because of last night's madness.
It was more so because of the side effects brought about by the system's body modification.
Yet, he felt his spirit was better than ever before.
It was as if a beast lay dormant within his body.
Ready to burst out of its cage at any moment.
[Host's current Charm: 85 (Out of 100).]
[Current Skill: All-Range Three-Pointer (SSS-rank).]
[Skill Description: Within the limits of physical stamina, as long as the shooting form is not disrupted, the field goal percentage is 100% from anywhere on the court.]
The system panel still floated on his retina.
This was real.
It wasn't a dream.
Lin Feng clenched his fists.
He felt a level of control in his arms that was precise to the micrometer.
This sense of power.
It was intoxicating.
"Mmh..."
A soft hum came from beside him.
Lin Feng turned his head.
Yinna was awake.
She rubbed her bleary eyes.
The quilt slipped from her shoulder.
Revealing a collarbone covered in red marks.
Those were the proofs of last night's fierce battle.
Yinna didn't seem to have come to her senses yet.
She looked at the unfamiliar ceiling.
Then.
She slowly turned her head.
She saw Lin Feng leaning against the headboard, staring at her.
Their eyes met.
The air froze for three seconds.
Yinna's pupils dilated instantly.
Memories flooded into her mind like a tide.
The bar.
The drugging.
The escape.
The hotel.
And that... crazy night.
"Ah!"
Yinna let out a scream.
She suddenly pulled up the quilt and wrapped herself like a cocoon.
She shrank into the corner of the bed.
She looked at Lin Feng with a face full of terror.
"You... you..."
She wanted to curse him as a rogue.
But the images flashing in her mind told her.
It seemed like she was the one who had proactively clung to this man last night.
She had even begged him... Yinna's face instantly turned red to the tips of her ears.
The sense of shame made her wish she could find a hole to crawl into.
Lin Feng was very calm.
He got up.
He openly displayed his lean and powerful upper body.
The perfect muscle lines exuded male hormones in the sunlight.
He took a bottle of water from the nightstand.
He unscrewed it.
He handed it to Yinna.
"Have some water. Doesn't your throat hurt?"
Lin Feng's voice carried a magnetic quality unique to the morning.
Yinna subconsciously took the water.
It was true.
Her throat was dry as a desert.
She took small sips of water.
But her eyes didn't dare look at Lin Feng.
"Do you remember what happened last night?"
Lin Feng leaned against the wall.
His tone was calm.
Yinna bit her lip.
She nodded.
Then she shook her head again.
"I... I was drugged."
She said softly.
"Yeah, those guys wanted to take you away."
Lin Feng pointed to several bruises on the back of his hand.
They were left behind when he smashed the wine bottles.
"I got you out of there."
"And then you... well, the drug took effect."
Lin Feng shrugged.
He didn't say it too explicitly.
But the meaning was clear.
I did it to save you.
And I also paid the 'price.'
Yinna looked at the injury on the back of Lin Feng's hand.
Then she looked at the scratch marks on his shoulder.
Those were her masterpieces.
Her feelings were complicated.
As a top idol.
She had always kept herself clean.
She never expected her first time to be under such circumstances.
Given to a strange man.
But if she hadn't given it to him.
The consequences might have been even more unimaginable.
Falling into the hands of those thugs... Thinking of this, Yinna shuddered.
"Thank you..."
She finally spoke.
Her voice was as thin as a mosquito's buzz.
"Don't mention it."
Lin Feng smiled.
His smile was very bright.
He didn't look like that beast from last night at all.
"Since you're awake, go take a shower."
"I threw your clothes away; they were all covered in the smell of alcohol and torn up."
"I've already had someone deliver new ones."
Lin Feng pointed to the clothes rack by the door.
A brand-new set of women's clothing was hanging there.
The size was actually correct.
This man... his attentiveness was almost frightening.
Yinna wrapped herself in the quilt and rushed into the bathroom.
Listening to the sound of water coming from inside.
The smile on Lin Feng's face faded.
He picked up his phone.
There were over a dozen missed calls on it.
All from the same person.
The assistant coach who had just fired him yesterday.
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow.
He dialed back.
"Lin! Thank God you finally picked up!"
As soon as the call connected.
The assistant coach's anxious roar came from the other side.
"Where are you?"
"Are you still in Los Angeles?"
Lin Feng said indifferently.
"On my way to the airport."
He was lying.
"Don't go to the airport! Get back here!"
The assistant coach's voice was almost pleading.
"Something happened."
"Steve Nash sprained his ankle during morning practice."
"Blake's back spasms have flared up again as well."
"We have to play the final do-or-die game; we must win to make the playoffs."
"But now we don't even have a single guard who can dribble the ball past half-court!"
Lin Feng sneered.
"So you thought of me?"
"The discarded player you evaluated as having the physical confrontation ability of a kindergartner?"
There was a silence on the other end of the phone.
"Lin, this is an opportunity."
"Get back here."
Lin Feng knew.
This was indeed an opportunity.
An opportunity to showcase his new abilities.
And an opportunity to slap everyone in the face.
"Fine."
"I'll go back."
Lin Feng hung up the phone.
The sound of water in the bathroom stopped.
Yinna walked out wrapped in a bathrobe.
Her hair was wet.
Her face carried the shy beauty of a lotus emerging from water.
"Are you leaving?"
She had heard Lin Feng's phone call.
Lin Feng nodded.
He put on his T-shirt.
"I have a game to play."
He walked up to Yinna.
He reached out and helped her tidy her messy bangs.
The movement was as natural as if they were a couple.
Yinna's body stiffened for a moment.
She didn't pull away.
"Leave me your number."
Lin Feng took out his phone.
Yinna hesitated for a moment.
But she still recited a string of numbers.
This was her private number.
Even her Agent didn't know it.
"No matter what, I will take responsibility."
Lin Feng looked into her eyes.
He spoke seriously.
Even though it was a system reward.
He was a traditional man.
If he slept with someone, he slept with them.
Yinna was stunned.
Take responsibility?
A down-and-out player.
Saying he'd take responsibility to a top female idol?
It sounded ridiculous.
But looking at Lin Feng's deep and determined eyes.
She actually believed him, as if possessed.
"Then you... good luck."
Yinna said softly.
Lin Feng smiled.
He turned and walked toward the door.
The moment he grasped the doorknob.
He glanced back.
At himself in the mirror.
Though he was wearing a cheap T-shirt.
His aura had completely changed.
It was the confidence belonging to the strong.
And the composure belonging to a hunter.
Midorima Shintaro's three-pointers.
"The game is only just beginning."
Lin Feng pushed the door and went out.
Leaving Yinna alone in the room.
Holding that bottle of water.
Her heart skipped a beat for some unknown reason.
Chapter 4: The Final Judgment, Intra-team Scrimmage
Lin Feng pushed open the heavy doors of the Lakers' practice facility.
A familiar yet strange scent hit him, a mix of sweat, disinfectant, and rubber.
Everything was the same as yesterday.
But the looks people gave him were completely different.
The security guard at the door looked at him as if he had seen a ghost.
"Lin? Aren't you..."
The guard didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear: Aren't you already waived?
Lin Feng didn't explain and walked straight toward the locker room.
The staff members he encountered in the hallway all cast surprised glances at him, then looked away as if avoiding a plague.
In this place, those who are eliminated are synonymous with losers—walking bad luck.
When Lin Feng pushed open the locker room door, the noisy atmosphere inside came to a standstill.
Everyone's eyes focused on him.
There was surprise and confusion, but mostly blatant contempt and mockery.
A Black player wearing a yellow practice jersey walked over; he had iconic short curly hair and an exaggerated expression.
Nick Young, known as the "isolation king."
"Hey, China boy."
Nick Young sized Lin Feng up, his tone full of sarcasm.
"I thought you'd already packed your bags and were on a plane home."
A low ripple of laughter echoed through the locker room.
Lin Feng's expression didn't change in the slightest.
He walked to his locker, where his name was still posted like a small tombstone.
Nick Young cocked his expressive eyebrows. He leaned in close to Lin Feng and lowered his voice to a level only the two of them could hear.
"Stop dreaming, kid. This place isn't for you. Your physicality can't even match my little nephew's."
Lin Feng ignored him and silently changed into his practice gear.
That slightly faded number 1 jersey.
Seeing Lin Feng's silent demeanor, Nick Young felt bored, shrugged, and walked away.
"Alright, everyone shut up!"
A raspy voice rang out.
head coach Mike D'Antoni walked in, his face grim and his eyes sunken; he looked like he hadn't slept all night.
Behind him followed the assistant coach who had told Lin Feng to get lost yesterday.
When the assistant coach saw Lin Feng, his expression was a bit unnatural, but he quickly regained his businesslike indifference.
D'Antoni's gaze swept over everyone, finally pausing on Lin Feng for half a second, his brow furrowing even tighter.
But he said nothing.
"You all know how bad the situation is,"
D'Antoni's voice echoed in the quiet locker room.
"Steve Nash sprained his ankle, Jordan Hill is still on the observation list, and Blake's back is acting up."
"The next game is against the Rockets. If we win, we're in the Playoffs. If we lose, all of us—including me—are going the fuck home to go fishing!"
There was a suppressed rage in the coach's tone.
"I don't want to hear any excuses."
"Now, everyone to the court."
"We're going to have an intra-team scrimmage."
D'Antoni emphasized his words.
"5v5 full court, split into Groups A and B."
"The rules are simple."
His gaze turned cold.
"The worst-performing fringe player on the losing team won't have to wait until the end of the season—you'll get the hell out of here tomorrow!"
"This is your final judgment."
The air seemed to freeze.
The hearts of all the role players and fringe players jumped into their throats.
This was the cruelty of the NBA: teammates one moment, life-or-death competitors the next.
The assistant coach began assigning groups using a tactical board.
Group A consisted of Nick Young, Pau Gasol's backup Earl Clark, and several key rotation players.
They were the primary backups in the team's current depleted lineup.
Group B's roster was much more pathetic.
A few perennial benchwarmers, plus some veterans who had just recovered from injury and hadn't found their rhythm yet, and... "Group B, guard, Lin Feng."
When the assistant coach read out that name, no one was surprised.
Some even let out a snicker.
Putting someone who had already been waived into the elimination group—wasn't the result obvious?
Lin Feng remained expressionless.
He followed his dejected Group B teammates to the other side of the court.
The game was about to begin.
Lin Feng was stuck at the very end of the Group B bench, without even a chance to play.
The coach preferred to start Steve Blake, a veteran with potential back issues.
"Beep—!"
The whistle blew.
The game began.
Group A was clearly superior in strength.
Nick Young played however he wanted on the court, hitting all sorts of ill-advised isolation shots.
Every time he scored, he would look provocatively at the Group B bench, his gaze lingering specifically on Lin Feng.
Meanwhile, Group B was a total mess.
Their offense was disorganized, and their defense was non-existent.
Affected by his back injury, the veteran Blake moved slowly and was blown by the young Group A guards in a single step.
The paint was left at the mercy of Earl Clark.
The point gap widened rapidly.
5:0.
11:2.
23:7.
On the sidelines, D'Antoni's expression grew uglier and uglier; he kept roaring from the bench, but it was to no avail.
The Group B players' morale was low; everyone was playing selfishly and chaotically as if fighting for their own livelihoods.
Lin Feng sat on the bench, quietly watching everything on the court.
His eyes were as calm as water, but his brain was working at high speed.
Group A's defensive lapses, Group B's positioning errors—every detail was clearly captured by him.
"Damn it!"
A cry of pain suddenly came from the court.
Group B's point guard Steve Blake, while trying to avoid a defender during a drive, landed awkwardly and twisted his ankle.
He clutched his ankle, falling to the ground in pain.
The Team Doctor immediately rushed over.
The game was forced into a timeout.
The Group B players gathered around, their faces ashen.
Their only point guard was down; how were they supposed to play now?
D'Antoni frustratedly ran a hand through his hair.
He glanced at the Group B bench.
There were only two forwards left, and... Lin Feng.
The assistant coach leaned into his ear.
"Mike, why don't we stop here? Group B can't play anymore."
D'Antoni shook his head.
"No, I need to see someone who can still fight in a desperate situation!"
His gaze swept over the stunned players on the bench one by one, finally landing on the East Asian man who had been exceptionally calm from beginning to end.
The kid who had already been given up on by management and was only called back temporarily because there was no one else available in the backcourt.
In his eyes, there was none of the panic or despair seen in the others.
Only a bottomless depth of serenity.
The Team Doctor made a gesture; Blake could not continue the game.
D'Antoni's brow furrowed into deep lines.
He had no other choice.
He reluctantly tilted his chin toward the end of the bench, that corner almost forgotten by everyone.
D'Antoni's voice carried obvious impatience and a hint of a desperate gamble.
"Kid, you're in!"
Every eye in the training facility instantly converged on Lin Feng.
Lin Feng slowly stood up and took off his heavy practice jacket.
Revealing that thin number 1 jersey.
He flexed his wrists, took a long stride, and walked step by step toward the center of the court.
Chapter 5: The First Shot, Shocking the Whole Arena!
The moment Lin Feng stepped onto the court, the mockery in the air almost solidified into something tangible.
The players from Team A exchanged glances, the contempt on their faces unconcealed.
"Look, our savior has arrived."
Nick Young leaned against Earl Clark and spoke lazily, his voice neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for everyone on the court to hear.
"Maybe he'll kill the opponents with his eyes."
A burst of laughter erupted.
Jordan Farmar, who was guarding him, was even more direct. He made a "please" gesture toward Lin Feng, a playful smirk hanging on the corner of his mouth.
That expression seemed to say: Come on, let me see what a guy who got cut like you can actually do.
The teammates on Team B had looks of utter despair.
Subbing in a guy even weaker than Blake—how were they supposed to play?
This was completely giving up on any hope of recovery.
On the sidelines, D'Antoni stood with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was ready to stop this farce at any moment.
The game resumed.
Baseline ball for Team B.
The player inboundng the ball looked at the court with a blank expression.
Team A's defensive pressure was intense; he couldn't find anyone to pass to.
"Over here!"
A cool, calm voice rang out.
It was Lin Feng.
He was standing near the midcourt line, with no one within two meters of him.
Farmar didn't take him seriously at all, merely standing symbolically inside the three-point line, letting him catch the ball.
The teammate inbounding the ball hesitated for a moment but eventually passed it over.
It was a soft bounce pass, delivered with a hint of reluctance.
The ball reached Lin Feng's hands.
His catching posture was very stable, his fingers fitting perfectly against the basketball.
Everyone thought he would do what he usually did: cautiously dribble the ball across half-court and then hand it off to the only forward on the team with any offensive capability for an isolation play.
Farmar yawned, preparing to turn up the intensity once he dribbled over.
Nick Young had even turned his head, starting to discuss with a teammate which nightclub they should go to after the game.
However.
Lin Feng didn't dribble.
Not even a single step.
He was just two steps past the midcourt line, a full three meters away from the three-point line.
A distance that no basketball professional could understand.
From this position, no one would choose to shoot unless it was a desperate heave before a timeout or at the end of a quarter.
But Lin Feng did exactly that.
He didn't make any adjustments; he didn't even glance at the hoop.
The moment he caught the ball, his body followed the momentum and jumped.
His legs pushed off, his core tightened, his arms rose high, and his wrist gave a gentle flick.
An incredibly standard shooting form.
It was as smooth as a breakdown of movements in a textbook.
The basketball left his hand.
It traced an absurdly high parabola in the air.
That arc was so high it almost touched the ceiling of the practice facility.
Time seemed to slow down at this moment.
In the entire gym, everyone's movements came to a halt.
The teammates on Team B had faces full of despair.
"It's over, he's gone crazy."
"What is this? A self-destructive shot?"
"Coach, hurry up and sub him out. I don't want to be humiliated with him!"
The Team A players were stunned for a moment, then erupted into even louder laughter.
"Hahaha! What is this guy doing?"
"Is he trying to throw the ball back to our half?"
Jordan Farmar didn't even bother to look back. He spread his hands toward the referee with an expression of helplessness.
Nick Young was laughing so hard he was doubled over. He pointed at the ball in the sky and shouted loudly to the teammate beside him.
"Do you see that! That's the level of our opponent!"
"Is this guy insane?"
"Does he think he's God?"
The assistant coach on the sideline closed his eyes in pain, already anticipating D'Antoni's thunderous rage.
D'Antoni's face was indeed as dark as the bottom of a pot.
His fists clenched until they cracked, and his lips moved as the words "get out" were already on the tip of his tongue.
In his view, this was the ultimate disrespect to the game and to basketball!
A player who was about to be cut, using this method to vent his frustration?
Unforgivable!
Just as everyone was certain this was nothing more than a ridiculous, venting shot...
That basketball, which had been flying in the air for a long time, began to descend.
Its trajectory didn't deviate in the slightest.
It plunged accurately toward the very center of the hoop.
"Swish!"
A crisp, pleasant sound that instantly silenced the entire gym.
The ball went straight through the net!
The net flipped up gently like a young girl's skirt and then settled back down.
Silence.
The entire gym was as silent as the grave.
Nick Young, who had been laughing loudly just a moment ago, had his smile frozen, his mouth still hanging open in an exaggerated 'O' shape.
Everyone on the Team A bench, who had been waiting for a joke, stood up, craning their necks like puppets under a freezing spell.
The Team B teammates who had already prepared to give up had their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. They looked at each other, seeing the same confusion and shock in each other's eyes.
Jordan Farmar heard that crisp sound of the ball hitting the net.
He turned around mechanically.
He saw the basketball rolling away from under the net.
He was stunned.
The ball... went in?
How is that possible?
From that distance?
It didn't even touch the rim?
What kind of magic is this?
No, this must be a hallucination!
On the sideline, the assistant coach's closed eyes snapped open. He adjusted his glasses, thinking he had misheard.
And the head coach, Mike D'Antoni, swallowed the curse that was about to escape his mouth.
He looked as if he had been struck by lightning, frozen in place.
Then, slowly, he stood up from the coach's bench.
He pushed aside the tactical board blocking his view and took two steps forward to the edge of the court.
Those bloodshot eyes from staying up late stared intently at the figure in the center of the court.
Lin Feng.
After making that shot, he didn't make any celebratory gestures.
No pumping his fist, no shouting, not even a hint of a smile.
His expression was as calm as a deep pool of water.
It was as if that world-shaking super-long three-pointer was, to him, nothing more than a perfectly ordinary shooting practice.
He simply landed lightly, then turned and began running back to his half of the court, preparing for defense.
That composure, that calmness, formed an incredibly sharp contrast with the shock and bewilderment of everyone around him.
This extreme contrast brought an even more powerful impact!
"Hey, get back on defense."
Lin Feng said indifferently as he passed his still-dazed Team B teammates.
His teammates snapped out of it as if from a dream and subconsciously started running with him.
But their steps were light and unsteady, their gazes unfocused, with only one thought swirling in their minds.
Was that shot just now real?
"It was... luck, right?"
"Yeah, it must be luck! A fluke!"
The Team A players finally reacted from their shock, unwilling to believe the reality they had seen.
"Let him shoot a hundred more times, and he won't make another one!"
Nick Young shouted loudly, as if trying to convince his teammates and himself.
However, there was a hint of a tremor in his voice that he hadn't even noticed.
The air in the entire training facility had changed.
The oppressive, desperate atmosphere mixed with mockery was completely shattered by that shot.
In its place was a strange atmosphere mixed with suspicion and anticipation.
Everyone's eyes, whether intentionally or not, were all focused on that Asian man wearing the number 1 jersey.
D'Antoni paid no attention to the commotion on the court.
His eyes didn't blink, like a hawk that had found its prey, firmly locked onto Lin Feng.
He raised his hand, interrupting Team A as they prepared to inbound the ball again.
The game was paused once more.
The entire gym was terrifyingly quiet.
D'Antoni walked onto the court step by step, heading straight for Lin Feng.
Everyone held their breath.
They didn't know how this coach, known for his fiery temper, would react to that "unconventional" shot.
Would it be fury, or... D'Antoni stopped in front of Lin Feng.
He was half a head shorter than Lin Feng, and at this moment, he had to look up at this young man he had been completely indifferent to yesterday.
He stared into Lin Feng's eyes; there was no defiance or panic as he had imagined, only a field of tranquility.
D'Antoni remained silent for a long time.
His Adam's apple bobbed as if he were searching for words.
Finally, in a raspy voice filled with extreme confusion and inquiry, he blurted out.
"Kid, what was that... just now?"
Chapter 6: This is a Miracle, Not Luck!
D'Antoni's raspy voice echoed through the gym, filled with incomprehensible confusion.
"Kid, just now... what was that?"
Lin Feng's expression remained unchanged. He looked at the head coach who would usher in the small-ball era in the future and calmly uttered three words.
"Just a shot."
This answer was even more elusive than the super long-range three-pointer itself.
Just a shot?
What kind of answer was that?
D'Antoni was choked up; he wanted to get angry, but he found he had no reason to.
Nick Young's laughter broke the stalemate on the court.
"Mike, don't let him fool you, that was just luck!"
He pointed at Lin Feng and shouted to his teammates.
"It was just a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse!"
"Let's finish this boring game quickly!"
The players of Team A seemed to have found their backbone and chimed in one after another.
"That's right, it's just luck!"
"Hurry up and serve the ball, blow them out!"
Jordan Farmar picked up the basketball again, his eyes filled with the annoyance of being toyed with.
The game continued.
Team A's ball.
After receiving the ball, Farmar was like a raging bull, using a fierce crossover to directly tear through Team B's makeshift defense.
He charged into the paint and easily finished with a layup.
25:10.
After scoring, Farmar deliberately ran past Lin Feng and provocatively bumped his shoulder.
"Kid, this is how basketball is played, not by guessing."
Lin Feng didn't even give him a glance.
Team B's ball.
The teammate serving the ball held it, looking at the fierce expressions of the Team A players, his palms covered in sweat.
He couldn't find a single safe passing lane.
Team A's strategy was clear: leave Lin Feng open and smother everyone else.
They wanted to prove that without that lucky shot, Team B was just a pile of trash.
"Here."
Lin Feng's voice rang out again.
He was still standing just past the half-court line, as if that was his exclusive hot zone.
The teammate serving the ball was about to hit a five-second violation; he had no choice but to loft the ball high toward Lin Feng.
"Let him shoot!"
Nick Young shouted from the sidelines.
"I want to see how many he can luck into!"
Farmar had learned his lesson this time; he didn't completely leave him open, but instead ran toward Lin Feng symbolically.
He wanted to give Lin Feng some interference, to make his shooting form collapse.
He wanted to see with his own eyes as this shot became a joke.
The ball reached Lin Feng's hands.
Farmar also happened to lunge in front of him, raising his arms high.
However, just when he thought he could interfere.
The moment Lin Feng caught the ball, there was no pause at all; with his left foot as the pivot, he stepped his right foot to the side and back.
An extremely simple yet incredibly efficient side-step.
It perfectly avoided Farmar's blocking path, creating a tiny bit of shooting space for himself.
Then, he jumped and released the shot.
The movement was smooth and continuous, like muscle memory practiced thousands of times.
It was that exaggeratedly high arc again.
It was that trajectory that made defenders despair.
The sneer on Nick Young's face hadn't even had time to fully bloom.
Jordan Farmar maintained his blocking posture, frozen in place.
On the sidelines, D'Antoni's pupils had shrunk to the size of needle points.
Everyone's eyes followed the basketball flying through the air.
Swish!
Another crisp, pure sound of the ball piercing the net.
The basketball hit nothing but net again!
25:13.
This time, the entire gym was completely silent.
If the first one was luck.
Then what about the second one?
In the same position, in the same way, shooting a ball with the same trajectory, getting the same result.
Can this damn thing still be called luck?
Nick Young's mouth was hanging open, unable to say a single word.
Farmar mechanically lowered his arms; he looked back at the hoop, then at Lin Feng standing in the distance.
The face of that Easterner still held no expression.
That calmness gave Farmar a chill from the bottom of his heart.
He wasn't guessing.
He could actually make it!
Once this thought appeared, it could no longer be suppressed.
"Nice job!"
A substitute forward from Team B finally snapped out of his daze and roared at Lin Feng.
This shout was like lighting a powder keg.
The eyes of the Team B players completely changed.
They were no longer looking at Lin Feng as a piece of trash holding them back.
They were looking at him as a lifeline!
He was a god!
"Defense! Defense!"
They retreated on defense like crazy, everyone putting in their maximum effort, eyes burning with the fire of hope after a narrow escape.
Team A's offense stagnated for the first time.
Farmar's hands on the ball were a bit shaky.
He looked up at Lin Feng across from him; that figure gave him immense pressure.
A hurried pass was intercepted by a Team B forward with a desperate effort!
"Lin!"
The teammate who grabbed the ball didn't even think; he directly slung the ball toward the frontcourt.
Lin Feng had already started running.
Everyone on Team A panicked, frantically chasing back.
Nick Young was the first to catch up to Lin Feng, spreading his arms and blocking Lin Feng's path with everything he had.
"Don't even think about shooting again!" he roared.
Lin Feng caught the ball and stopped one step outside the three-point line.
He didn't force a shot.
Team B's center also charged over with his life on the line at this moment, using his massive frame to set a solid screen for Lin Feng.
This was the first time he had proactively set a screen for Lin Feng.
Lin Feng used the screen to move laterally one step.
Nick Young was blocked for an instant.
That one instant.
Was enough.
Lin Feng shot again.
The basketball flew into the sky.
Nick Young rounded the screen, only having enough time to see the ball fly over his fingertips.
Swish!
25:16!
"YES!"
Team B's bench erupted completely!
The players waved their towels, acting like madmen.
D'Antoni stood on the sidelines, motionless like a statue.
The assistant coach beside him kept muttering to himself.
"My God... this is impossible... this is absolutely impossible..."
Insane.
Everyone felt that Team A was going to go crazy.
They weren't facing a waived player.
They were facing a shooting machine!
A monster with no dead zones in his range!
"Everyone, wake up!"
Nick Young roared in exasperation.
"Double-team him! Double-team him! Don't let him get the ball!"
The Team A players woke up as if from a dream, finally treating Lin Feng like a super scorer like Kobe or Durant.
But it was already too late.
The Team B players had only one belief.
Give the ball to Lin!
They frantically set off-ball screens for Lin Feng, using their bodies to create space for him to receive the ball.
The ball reached Lin Feng's hands again.
This time, it was at the forty-five-degree angle on the right side of the court, still two meters from the three-point line.
The logo shot area.
Two people lunged at him simultaneously!
Before the two could close in, Lin Feng had already launched the ball.
The basketball flew through the air.
Swish!
25:19!
The numbers on the scoreboard were changing rapidly.
Every crisp sound of the ball entering the net was like a heavy punch, slamming into the hearts of the Team Aplayers.
Their morale was collapsing at a visible rate.
They began to complain to each other, and their defense was full of holes.
Nick Young's mindset had completely unraveled.
He abandoned his man and rushed recklessly toward Lin Feng; he wanted to personally defend this guy.
"Give me the ball!"
He roared on the court, demanding his teammates pass him the ball; he wanted to use a basket to pay him back.
However, his hurried pull-up jumper, under the united defense of the Team B players, missed by a mile.
The rebound was firmly secured by Team B's center.
"Lin!"
The center got the rebound and, without looking, slung it directly to the frontcourt.
Lin Feng was like a bolt of lightning on the fast break!
This time, he didn't stop outside the three-point line.
He caught the ball, took one dribble, and charged directly toward the hoop.
Everyone thought he was going for a layup.
Nick Young even chased from behind, preparing to give him a chase-down block.
However, one step inside the free-throw line, Lin Fengsuddenly came to a dead stop.
Only after Nick Young flew over his head did he calmly jump.
An elegant pull-up jumper.
Swish!
25:21!
The deficit was down to just 4 points!
Team A called a timeout.
Nick Young knelt on the floor, head in his hands, feeling as though his worldview had been overturned.
He wasn't facing a human.
It was a god.
A... God of Basketball.
Timeout ended.
The Team A players' eyes were vacant; they had completely lost their fighting spirit.
Their offense turned into a turnover.
Possession returned to Team B's hands.
Everyone was looking at Lin Feng.
The entire gym, everyone was looking at Lin Feng.
In what way would he make the next shot?
Lin Feng strolled through the half-court.
Two Team A players followed him like startled birds.
Suddenly, Lin Feng made a back-cut and, with the help of a double screen from his teammates, found an open spot.
The ball arrived as he did.
Catch, jump, shoot.
From a step behind the half-court line.
The basketball was like a precision-guided cruise missile.
Swish!
25:24!
Only one point away!
The Team A players completely broke down; they stood in place with hands on their hips, their faces written with despair.
Chapter 7: 12 for 12, the Game-Winning Buzzer-Beater!
The players of Team A were completely broken; they stood there with hands on their hips, their faces etched with despair.
D'Antoni suddenly waved his hand.
"Timeout!"
The piercing sound of the whistle felt like a grand reprieve to the Team A players. They dragged their heavy feet toward the sidelines, heads bowed like a flock of defeated roosters.
Nick Young was the first to rush up to the coach, his voice carrying a faint, undetectable tremor.
"Coach, this is unplayable!"
"He's a monster!"
"Two of us go to defend him, and he doesn't even need to look at the rim!"
"Three! We need three people to guard him!" Nick Youngheld up three fingers, roaring with emotion.
"I don't care about the others. Even if the other four from Team B are dancing under the basket, don't let that Number 1 touch the ball again!"
"Don't let him receive a single pass!"
D'Antoni didn't speak; he just stared at the other end of the court.
The Team B players had Lin Feng surrounded, the atmosphere there being the polar opposite of Team A's.
"Lin! That was incredible!"
"Brother, how did you do it?"
"We still have a chance! We can win!"
The looks of disdain and exclusion from before had now entirely transformed into worship and trust.
The teammate who had made the passing error earlier was now fanning Lin Feng with a towel, his face full of a flattering smile.
"Lin, I'll give the ball back to you later. You take the shot!"
Lin Feng simply nodded calmly.
He glanced at the scoreboard.
25:24.
There were only 10 seconds left in the game.
Team B's possession.
D'Antoni shifted his gaze from Lin Feng to his own players.
His voice was low, yet it carried an undeniable pressure.
"Do exactly as Nick said."
"Triple-team Lin Feng."
"From the moment he starts his off-ball movement, stick to him. Use physical contact; don't give him an inch of space to receive the ball."
"I'd rather see someone else on Team B get an open layup than see him take another shot."
The Team A players nodded heavily, a fierce glint reigniting in their eyes.
Right—as long as they didn't let him get the ball, he was nothing.
The timeout ended.
The players returned to the court.
Team B's baseline inbound.
When the player responsible for the inbound stood out of bounds, he saw a scene that made his scalp tingle.
Nick Young, Jordan Farmar, and another guard from Team A had formed a triangle, trapping Lin Feng tightly outside the three-point line.
That wasn't defense.
That was a sack formation from American football.
The referee already had the whistle in his mouth and began the count.
"One second!"
"Two seconds!"
The Team B players tried desperately to set screens for Lin Feng, but the Team A players didn't care; they would rather foul than let Lin Feng through.
Lin Feng felt like he was stuck in a quagmire; every step he took was exceptionally difficult.
"Three seconds!"
The teammate inbounding the ball was sweating profusely, unable to find any passing lane.
The other four players on Team B were wide open, but they didn't even dare to put their hands out for the ball.
Everyone knew this ball had to go to Lin Feng.
"Four seconds!"
"Pass the ball!" Robert Sacre, the Team B center, roared.
He couldn't stand by and watch the team lose the game because of a five-second violation.
The inbounding teammate's mind went blank; with no other choice, he could only throw the ball toward Sacre, who seemed like the only viable option.
The ball reached Sacre's hands.
The Team A center immediately pounced on him.
Less than 5 seconds remained.
Sacre wasn't an offensive threat; he even struggled with dribbling.
Clutching the ball, he noticed Team A's defensive formation loosen for a split second due to the pass.
To prevent Sacre from passing the ball back to Lin Feng, Nick Young shifted a step toward Sacre.
It was just that one step.
Lin Feng seized the opportunity, suddenly cutting back and sprinting toward his own backcourt.
"Don't let him go!" Nick Young exclaimed, immediately turning to give chase.
Sacre saw Lin Feng's movement.
Without the slightest hesitation, he used all his strength to fling the basketball toward their own half of the court.
It was a long pass that spanned half the court!
The ball flew through the air.
Lin Feng was running.
Nick Young was chasing.
Time was slipping away.
3 seconds!
Lin Feng was faster than Nick Young, reaching the ball's landing point first.
Just a step inside his own three-point line.
He caught the ball.
But there was no one in front of him, as all of Team A's defensive force was concentrated in the frontcourt.
However, he was still nearly an entire basketball court's length away from the opponent's basket!
2 seconds!
The red numbers on the timer were jumping frantically.
Lin Feng didn't dribble or adjust.
The moment he caught the ball, he planted his feet and turned his body toward the opposing basket.
He glanced at the basket far off in the distance, then quickly peeked at the sideline timer.
1.5 seconds!
He bent his knees, leaned his body back, and transferred all his strength from the soles of his feet to his waist and abdomen, finally gathering it in his arms.
This wasn't a standard jump shot.
It was a full-force heave!
"Shoot it!" someone on the Team B bench screamed at the top of their lungs.
Nick Young was still sprinting madly, extending his arm in an attempt to block from behind.
But he was a step too late.
Lin Feng pushed the basketball out with all his might.
The moment the ball left his hand, time seemed to slow down infinitely.
Carrying a desperate spin, the basketball flew toward the high sky.
It flew high, very high.
Under the lights of the training facility, it looked like a rising star.
Everyone on the court stopped moving.
Everyone looked up, their eyes following the basketball as it soared through the air.
Nick Young stopped in his tracks, maintaining his lunging posture, his head tilted back and his mouth slightly agape.
Sacre stood in place, hands clasped as if in prayer.
Some of the Team B teammates covered their eyes, afraid to look, while others craned their necks, their faces full of anticipation.
On the sideline.
D'Antoni stood up from his seat and walked to the edge of the court, hands on his knees and body leaning forward, his bloodshot eyes staring fixedly at the ball in the air.
The assistant coach's clipboard fell to the ground, but he didn't even notice.
"Beep—!"
The buzzer signaling the end of the game echoed throughout the entire gym at that moment.
Sharp and piercing.
And yet, the basketball was still in the air.
It flew past the half-court line, past Team A's three-point line, and past the free-throw line.
Its height was decreasing.
Its trajectory seemed... perfectly straight.
Everyone's hearts were in their throats.
It's impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
A full-court shot.
And a buzzer-beater released just before the sound.
The probability was lower than winning the lottery jackpot.
This could only happen in the movies!
The basketball began its final descent.
It didn't hit the backboard.
It didn't even touch the rim.
It fell precisely toward the very center of the hoop.
"Swish!"
In the gym where the echo of the buzzer had not yet faded.
A crisp, yet soul-shaking sound of the ball tearing through the net.
It reached everyone's ears with total clarity.
Nothing but net!
12 for 12!
A full-court three-point buzzer-beating game-winner!
The entire world went quiet.
The Team A players, still looking upward, had turned into twelve stone statues.
The anticipation on the faces of the Team B players froze into blank stares.
D'Antoni's hands, which were propped on his knees, were trembling uncontrollably.
No one cheered.
No one shouted.
Because everything that had just happened before their eyes had exceeded their understanding of the sport of basketball.
This wasn't luck.
This wasn't skill.
This was a miracle!
A few seconds later.
On the Team B bench, a player pinched himself hard.
The sharp pain convinced him he wasn't dreaming.
"Ahhhhhhhh!"
He let out an earth-shattering scream.
This scream seemed to ignite the entire gym.
"We won! We won!"
"A buzzer-beater! It's a buzzer-beater!"
"My God! What did I just see!"
The Team B players rushed onto the court like madmen, charging toward the figure still holding his shooting pose inside their own three-point line.
Lin Feng.
After releasing that shot, he hadn't moved.
He watched as the ball traversed the entire court and dove into the net.
His expression remained calm.
It wasn't until his teammates surrounded him, excitedly lifting him up and tossing him into the air.
"Lin! You are a god!"
"You are my God!"
Nick Young sat slumped on the floor; he looked at Lin Feng being tossed high, his eyes hollow as he muttered to himself.
"Fake... this must be fake..."