Chapter 8: Kobe's Gaze, The Contract Stays!
D'Antoni stood there stiffly, like a statue whose soul had been drained away.
The players of Team A were either kneeling or slumped on the floor, their eyes hollow, having completely lost the ability to think.
Nick Young, the previously arrogant "isolation king," was staring blankly at Lin Feng in the air with a look as if he were seeing a god or a ghost.
Just then, D'Antoni moved.
Like an awakened lion, he suddenly charged onto the court.
Ignoring everyone, he rushed straight to Lin Feng and grabbed his shoulders tightly with both hands.
He was gripping hard, his knuckles turning white from the excessive force.
"Look at me!"
D'Antoni roared, his spittle flying onto Lin Feng's face.
"Tell me, what is going on!"
"What was that? Was that God possessing you?"
"Twelve consecutive three-pointers, and the last one was a full-court buzzer-beater!"
"Tell me, damn it, that this isn't real!"
There was a hint of a breakdown in his voice; he would rather believe he had witnessed a miracle than believe this was something a human could do.
Lin Feng let him hold him, his expression remaining calm.
Looking at the famous coach's loss of composure, he simply replied flatly.
"Coach, I told you, it was just a shot."
"The game, we won."
D'Antoni's arms were trembling.
This answer made him feel more powerless than any provocation.
Yes, they won.
In a way he had never seen, or even imagined, in his entire coaching career.
"Monster... You're a monster..."
He let go, muttering to himself as he took two unsteady steps back.
Just then, another door to the training gym was suddenly pushed open.
"What happened?!"
A middle-aged man in a suit, his hair meticulously combed, rushed in.
It was the General Manager of the Los Angeles Lakers, Mitch Kupchak.
His office was right upstairs, and that earth-shattering game-winner followed by the eruption of noise had made him think a riot was breaking out in the gym.
Kupchak rushed in and immediately saw the strange standoff on the court.
On one side was ecstasy and adoration.
On the other side was despair and daze.
Right in the middle were D'Antoni and that Asian kid.
"Mike, what's going on?"
Kupchak asked with a frown.
D'Antoni didn't answer; he just raised his hand and pointed at the scoreboard.
25:27.
Kupchak glanced at the score, then at the Team A starters slumped on the floor, his face filled with confusion.
"Team B won? How is that possible?"
The assistant coach beside him, his voice trembling, recounted everything that had just happened as fast as he could.
"...He... that Number 1, Lin Feng, made twelve three-pointers..."
"The last one was a full-court buzzer-beating game-winner..."
Kupchak's expression went from confusion to shock, and then to ecstasy.
A light like never before erupted in his eyes.
He didn't question or doubt; as a top-tier professional manager, he only believed in results.
His gaze swept past everyone and locked onto Lin Feng.
That look was no longer that of someone scrutinizing a fringe player about to be cut.
It was as if he were looking at a priceless gold mine that had just been discovered!
"Where's the plane ticket?"
Kupchak suddenly turned around and shouted at the assistant coach.
The assistant coach was stunned for a moment before hurriedly pulling a printed electronic ticket itinerary from his briefcase.
It was the ticket booked for Lin Feng to fly back to China this afternoon.
Kupchak snatched it away.
Under everyone's gaze.
"Rip!"
He tore the ticket down the middle, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the nearby trash can.
This action made everyone hold their breath.
Nick Young and the others struggled to their feet and gathered around, looking at Lin Feng as if he were a monster.
They wanted to say something, but found their throats dry and couldn't utter a word.
They had personally pushed a god off his pedestal, only to find that the god had flown back up on his own, and even higher than before.
Kupchak strode over to Lin Feng, his face wearing a professional yet incredibly sincere smile.
He pulled a document and a fountain pen from his suit's inner pocket.
"Son, forget about that ticket."
His voice was full of persuasion.
"I have a new contract here."
"A fully guaranteed, official contract with the Los Angeles Lakers."
He handed the contract and the pen to Lin Feng.
"Son, welcome officially to the Los Angeles Lakers!"
Time took on a concrete shape at this moment.
The teammates from Team B erupted in cheers even more enthusiastic than when they had just won the game.
"Keep him!"
"Sign him!"
Lin Feng looked at the contract in front of him, then at Kupchak.
A ripple finally stirred within his heart.
He had won his gamble.
In the most insane and incredible way, he had pulled his career back from the edge of the cliff.
He did not hesitate and took the pen.
At the end of the contract, he signed his name.
Lin Feng.
The two characters were written with a flourish.
The moment he put down the pen, he knew everything had changed.
"Lin! That was amazing!"
"Bro, tonight's on me to celebrate you staying!"
The teammates who had previously ignored him now gathered around, enthusiastically patting him on the back.
The center named Sacre even gave him a simple-minded grin and a bear hug.
"Lin, that pass just now, I threw it pretty well, didn't I?"
"Of course."
Lin Feng responded with a smile.
He could feel a wonderful chemical reaction occurring in the air and in the relationships between people around him.
This was the respect brought by strength.
On the other side of the court, a figure had been sitting silently in the corner the whole time.
Kobe Bryant.
He had watched the entire game from start to finish.
From Lin Feng's first ultra-long three-pointer to the final full-court buzzer-beater.
His face didn't show the exaggerated shock seen on others.
When the final game-winner swished through the net, the corners of his mouth, on a face that had been tense due to injuries, only curled up ever so slightly.
In those sharp, eagle-like eyes, a flicker of appreciation passed that others would find hard to detect.
He saw things others didn't.
It wasn't luck.
It was ultimate confidence, the responsibility of daring to carry the entire team's fate on his shoulders, and an unwavering cold-bloodedness in the face of desperation.
It was a temperament that shared the same origin as his own.
"Interesting."
Kobe muttered to himself.
While the entire gym was immersed in the joy of the new contract signing,
an inconspicuous trainer quietly put down his phone.
He had just secretly recorded everything that happened in the last few minutes.
Especially that shocking full-court game-winner.
He hesitated for a moment, then opened the YouTube app on his phone.
He edited a title.
"Mysterious Shooter Appears at Lakers Training Camp, Full-Court Buzzer-Beater! Is This Even Humanly Possible?"
Then, he pressed the upload button.
Chapter 9: Exploding Across America, a Call from the Goddess
Video, upload successful.
He turned off his phone, not thinking much of it. He just felt that the shot was incredible and wanted to share it with netizens.
He hadn't anticipated at all that this unintentional act of his would set off a storm that swept across the entire United States.
The first hour after the video was uploaded.
Views: 312.
Comments: 15.
"Clickbait? Since when did the Lakers have someone like this?"
"The image quality is too blurry, but... holy crap?! From that distance?!"
"Fake, right? Is the video photoshopped?"
"Didn't the guy above see clearly? This is a scrimmage. The buzzer at the end is real; this is a buzzer-beating game-winner!"
"Wait, this number 1... seems to be that Chinese player who was reported to be waived?"
The second hour.
A moderator with a small reputation on the famous basketball forum "RealGM" accidentally clicked on the video.
He watched it once, then watched it again.
Then, he forwarded the video link to the Lakers section of the forum.
The title was: "Can you guys believe this? A player about to be waived ended the scrimmage like this!"
The moment the post was made, it was buried under various trade rumors and team news.
But a few minutes later, the first reply appeared.
"FUCK! Is this for real?!"
The second reply followed immediately.
"That's not a shot, that's a missile!"
The third.
"I know this player, his name is Lin Feng! He played like shit in the Summer League, is... is this a different person?"
The post began to heat up.
More and more people clicked the link to watch the video.
The forum's server even experienced a momentary lag.
"Oh my God, I slowed the video down to 0.25x. His shooting form is very standard; this wasn't a fluke!"
"What about the 11 three-pointers before that? Why didn't the poster say anything? I want to see it all!"
"Requesting the full video! I'm willing to trade my girlfriend's signed photo for it!"
A storm was forming.
The third hour.
A certain columnist for ESPN was worrying about his draft for the next day.
His assistant knocked and came in, handing over a tablet with a strange expression.
"Sir, you'd better take a look at this."
The writer took it impatiently, and the video played automatically.
A dim training hall, a blurry figure, and then a basketball that pierced the sky.
"Swish!"
The coffee cup in the writer's hand shook, and hot coffee spilled onto his pants.
Yet he was completely unaware.
He stood up abruptly and grabbed the phone on his desk.
"Get me through to the Lakers' PR department! Right now! Immediately!"
At the same time.
In the TNT studio, Charles Barkley, who had just finished recording a show, was preparing to leave.
"Charles, wait!"
His partner Kenny Smith rushed over holding his phone.
"Look at this! A god has appeared in the Lakers!"
Barkley glanced at it dismissively.
"What kind of god can save this sinking ship now?"
But when he saw the images on the phone screen, his iconic big mouth fell open and couldn't close for a long time.
"This... this... Kenny, pinch me, I must be dreaming."
Major sports media outlets across America, like sharks sensing blood, all went crazy.
On the Twitter trending list.
#Lakers' Mystery Shooter#
#The Full-Court Buzzer Beater#
#Who is Lin Feng?#
The three topics rushed into the top ten trends with unstoppable momentum.
Fans went completely wild.
They gave Lin Feng all sorts of nicknames.
"eastern magician!"
"Midcourt Assassin!"
"Cruise Missile on the Court!"
The Lakers' General Manager's office.
The phone had been ringing non-stop since half an hour ago.
Kupchak's hands were getting tired from answering calls, but the smile on his face grew brighter and brighter.
"Yes, that's right, his name is Lin Feng."
"We just signed him to a fully guaranteed official contract."
"No, no, no, he's not untouchable, but unless you're trading LeBron James for him."
He hung up one phone smugly, and another immediately rang.
D'Antoni was also in the office.
He watched Kupchak bragging there, a complex expression on his face.
"Mitch, are we... playing this too big?"
D'Antoni was somewhat worried.
"That kid's shooting is indeed... miraculous, but that was just one scrimmage."
Kupchak put down the phone, walked to the liquor cabinet, and poured two glasses of whiskey.
He handed one to D'Antoni.
"Mike, have you ever seen anyone make 12 consecutive three-pointers in a scrimmage, with the last one being a full-court buzzer-beater?"
D'Antoni fell silent.
He hadn't.
Let alone seeing it, he wouldn't even dare to imagine it.
"Whether he's a god or a ghost, after today, he's the most watched rookie in America. No, he's more watched than all the rookies combined!"
Kupchak took a sip of his drink, the shrewdness of a businessman flashing in his eyes.
"His commercial value, from the moment that ball went in, has already become immeasurable!"
"With a veteran minimum, we've signed a player who can make the whole world go crazy!"
"Mike, we've hit the jackpot!"
D'Antoni looked at the excited General Manager and thought back to Lin Feng's face, which had been incredibly calm from beginning to end.
He always felt that things weren't that simple.
This young man hid deeper secrets than that game-winner.
And at this moment, at the center of the storm.
Lin Feng was lying on the bed in the new apartment the team had arranged for him.
He had just finished showering and was holding his phone, looking at his social media account.
After he signed the contract, the team's PR helped him regain access to his account.
When he logged on, the follower count was: 3,214.
Most of them were inactive followers he had accumulated while playing domestically.
And now.
He refreshed the page.
Follower count: 1,254,890.
And the number was still jumping frantically at a rate of thousands per second.
The direct message inbox had exploded, showing a red "99+" badge.
The comment section was even more flooded with various languages.
"God! Please take my knees!"
"Lin! I love you! I want to have your babies!"
"From today on, I'm a Lakers fan! No, I'm a Lin Feng fan!"
Lin Feng looked at these fanatical comments, the curve of his lips becoming more pronounced.
This was what he wanted.
Fame, attention, influence.
He enjoyed this feeling of being the center of attention.
Just then, the phone screen suddenly lit up.
An unknown incoming call appeared on the screen.
The number's origin was South Korea.
Lin Feng's movements paused for a moment.
A face as exquisite as an angel's, yet with a hint of stubbornness, surfaced in his mind.
He pressed the answer button.
On the other end of the phone came a slight, seemingly nervous sound of breathing.
After a few seconds of silence, a gentle and slightly shy female voice spoke up cautiously.
"Excuse me... is this Mr. Lin Feng?"
The voice was very light and soft, like a feather brushing against the heart.
"It's me."
Lin Feng's voice was very calm.
The breathing on the other end seemed to become a bit more rapid.
"I... it's me, Yinna."
In the girl's voice, there was a hint of joy after confirmation and an imperceptible shyness.
"I saw the news... congratulations on officially joining the Lakers."
"Mm."
Lin Feng gave a response, waiting for the other party to continue.
"I've safely returned to Korea. I... I wanted to say thank you to you again."
Yinna's voice was very sincere.
"That night, really... thank you so much."
She seemed to recall that chaotic night again, a hint of lingering fear in her voice.
The moment her words fell.
It seemed his performance today had also reached her ears through the news, increasing the weight of this "proactive contact."
On the other end of the phone, Yinna seemed to be hesitating about something.
She was silent for a few seconds before speaking again in a volume that was almost a whisper.
Her voice was full of uncertainty and anticipation.
"Um... Mr. Lin Feng..."
"When... when are you free?"
"I want to... thank you in person."
Chapter 10: The Spotlight of Los Angeles, New Goals
On the other end of the phone, Yinna's voice was full of uncertainty and anticipation.
"Um... Mr. Lin Feng..."
"When... when are you free?"
"I want to... thank you in person."
Lin Feng could imagine the national goddess's cautious appearance on the other end of the line at this moment.
He chuckled, his voice coming through the receiver with a reassuring magnetic quality.
"Just call me Lin Feng."
"The team will be arranging a lot of activities lately, so I might be quite busy."
On the other end, Yinna seemed to let out a soft "Ah," sounding a bit disappointed.
"However," Lin Feng changed the subject.
"Once I'm free, I'll contact you."
"O-Okay!"
Yinna's voice was instantly filled with joy again.
"I'll wait for you!"
"I won't disturb your rest anymore. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Hanging up the phone, Lin Feng tossed his cell phone aside.
He lay on the soft large bed, staring at the ceiling.
Yinna's call was just the beginning.
He knew that once the video of that full-court game-winner went viral on the internet, his life had already entered the fast lane.
The next day, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds, spilling into the Los Angeles apartment.
Lin Feng was woken up by a persistent ringing of the phone.
It was the team's PR manager.
"Lin, are you awake? Get ready quickly, the car will pick you up in half an hour."
"What is it?" Lin Feng's voice was still a bit raspy.
"A press conference!"
The voice on the other end was exceptionally excited.
"Mitch (Kupchak) and Mike D'Antoni will both be there."
"Major sports media outlets from across the country will be present; ESPN will even be live-streaming it online!"
"This conference is being held just for you!"
Half an hour later, a black business van parked punctually downstairs at the apartment building.
Lin Feng changed into the casual sportswear issued by the Los Angeles Lakers, looking sharp and clean-cut.
In the car, the PR manager handed him a bottle of water, chattering away with instructions.
"Lin, remember, speak less and listen more later."
"The questions might be sharp; don't let the reporters trip you up."
"I've already communicated with Kupchak and the others; they'll block most of the questions."
"You just need to keep smiling and show humility and confidence."
Lin Feng unscrewed the cap, took a sip of water, and simply nodded calmly.
He didn't need anyone to teach him how to deal with the media.
Since acquiring the system, his heart had long become as firm as a rock.
When he walked into the press conference hall at the Los Angeles Lakers' training facility, he was still startled by the scale of the scene.
The several-hundred-square-meter hall was packed to capacity.
A forest of camera lenses was aimed at the press podium.
The blinding flashes almost merged into a continuous sheet of white light.
A tense yet excited atmosphere filled the air.
"He's here! He's here!"
"That's Lin Feng!"
Lin Feng's appearance caused a stir in the room.
He followed Kupchak and Mike D'Antoni onto the podium.
He sat down in front of a backdrop featuring the massive Los Angeles Lakers logo.
Kupchak cleared his throat and, with a flushed face, began the opening remarks.
"Welcome, friends from the media."
"Today, we are very pleased to officially introduce the newest member of the Los Angeles Lakers—Lin Feng!"
He pointed to Lin Feng beside him, and the flashes went wild again.
"We believe Lin's addition will bring new vitality and infinite possibilities to this team."
"We have signed him to a fully guaranteed official contract; he will be a very important part of our future plans!"
Kupchak's speech was filled with a businessman's shrewdness and provocation.
Next was the Q&A session for the reporters.
The first reporter stood up.
"Hello, Mr. Lin Feng, I'm a reporter from the Los Angeles Times. Regarding yesterday's full-court buzzer-beater that shocked the nation, what do you have to say? Was it luck, or is it a replicable skill?"
This question was relatively mild.
Lin Feng picked up the microphone, his expression composed.
"That was a shot that had to be made."
"I took the shot, and it went in."
The answer was simple yet powerful.
The second reporter was from ESPN.
"Lin, welcome to the NBA. Many fans are curious about you. What do you think are your technical characteristics? What do you feel you can bring to this team that already has Kobe Bryant?"
"My specialty is shooting."
Lin Feng answered without hesitation.
"What I can bring to the team is victory."
Mike D'Antoni nodded in satisfaction from the side.
This answer was confident and goal-oriented.
After a few questions, the atmosphere remained harmonious.
Until a white reporter wearing gold-rimmed glasses, who looked very shrewd, stood up.
He had a Fox Sports badge hanging on his chest.
"Mr. Lin Feng, if I may be blunt."
His voice was sharp, with a clear tone of provocation.
"Your performance in the Summer League was a disaster; your shooting percentage was abysmal, and you were almost given up on by the team."
"But just a few days later, in an intra-team scrimmage, you shot a miraculous 12-for-12."
"Don't you find that absurd?"
"Many people are questioning the authenticity of that video, or rather, that it was just a one-time, final burst of luck in your career."
"How do you prove to us that you're not just a 'lucky kid' who can only live in highlight reels, but a real NBA player?"
This question was like a knife, piercing the harmonious atmosphere of the scene.
All cameras were pointed at Lin Feng.
Kupchak's smile froze on his face.
Mike D'Antoni's brow also furrowed.
The PR manager below the stage was wringing his hands in anxiety.
The entire press hall was so quiet that breathing could be heard.
Everyone wanted to see how this boy from the East, who became famous overnight, would respond to this malicious question.
Would he refute it angrily? Or would he brush it off with some official rhetoric?
Lin Feng leaned back in his chair, quietly looking at the reporter.
He wasn't angry; he didn't even have a ripple of emotion.
He just waited for the reporter to finish, then brought the microphone a bit closer.
In the press hall, everyone held their breath.
Lin Feng spoke.
His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly spread throughout the entire hall.
"See you on the court."
Four words.
Powerful and resonant.
The sharp reporter was stunned; the series of follow-up questions he had prepared were all stuck in his throat.
The scene was quiet for two seconds.
Then, a burst of shutter clicks erupted, more intense than ever before!
"Well said!"
"So cool!"
Some friendly reporters couldn't even help but cheer.
This was the best response!
Solving basketball problems the basketball way.
A brilliant smile bloomed on Kupchak's face once again.
He took the lead in applauding.
"Alright, today's press conference concludes here! Thank you, everyone!"
He decisively ended the conference, leaving all the media with a vast space for imagination.
Stepping down from the podium, Mike D'Antoni walked beside Lin Feng and whispered a sentence.
"Good job, kid."
The center named Sacre also came over, excitedly punching Lin Feng's shoulder.
"Brother, you're so cool! I almost wanted to cheer for you myself!"
Lin Feng just smiled.
Just as he was about to leave, a figure blocked his path.
The surrounding noise seemed to have been muted.
Kobe Bryant.
He had appeared at the exit of the press hall at some unknown time.
He was wearing black training gear, his eyes sharp like an eagle's as he scrutinized Lin Feng.
Sacre and the other players who wanted to come over to say hello instinctively stopped in their tracks.
In the entire Los Angeles Lakers team, no one dared to act out in front of him.
Kobe just stood there, looking at Lin Feng without saying a word.
Lin Feng also calmly met his gaze.
A few seconds later, Kobe moved.
He took a step forward, raised his hand, and patted Lin Feng's shoulder.
The force wasn't heavy, but it was steady.
"Nice job, kid."
His voice was deep and raspy, with a unique texture.
"But the NBA isn't a scrimmage."
"Don't let me down."
Having said that, he turned and walked toward the players' tunnel without looking back, leaving behind a solitary and proud silhouette.
He watched the direction where Kobe disappeared, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upward.
This is only the beginning.
That night, Lin Feng came to the Staples Center alone.
The team's preseason schedule had been announced; in a few days, he would have his true NBA debut here.
He stood in the center of the empty court, looking up at the surrounding spectator stands.
Tens of thousands of seats were empty right now, yet he could almost hear the thunderous cheers of a game.
His gaze finally landed on the first row of the court, those expensive VIP seats.
He knew that would be his next "hunting ground."
Midorima Shintaro's All-Range Three-Pointer was certainly powerful, but to truly establish himself in this league or even reach a dominant status, one skill was far from enough.
He needed to unlock the next kurokos basketball"Generation of Miracles" skill pack.
And the keys to unlocking them were in those VIP seats.
In his mind, several names flashed by like a movie list.
Scarlett Johansson, the Hollywood box office queen known as "Black Widow," whose sexiness and influence were unmatched.
Taylor Swift, the music superstar currently at the peak of her "Red" tour, whose every relationship could spark global attention.
And Emma Watson, the global icon who emerged from Hogwarts, possessing both beauty and wisdom...
Chapter 11: Preseason Debut, A Superstar's Provocation
A few days later, the day of the Los Angeles Lakers' preseason debut arrived.
The opponent was the Golden State Warriors from Oakland.
Sports media across North America turned their lenses toward the Staples Center.
This preseason game, which should have been ordinary, garnered attention comparable to the NBA Finalsbecause of one person's presence.
Lin Feng.
The whole world wanted to know if that eastern kid, who had performed miracles in the practice game, was just a flash-in-the-pan meteor or a rising star.
In the locker room before the game, the atmosphere was somewhat subtle.
D'Antoni held the tactical board and announced tonight's starting lineup.
"Point guard, Steve Nash."
"Shooting guard, Lin Feng."
"Small forward, Nick Young."
"Power forward, Pau Gasol."
"Center, Chris Kaman."
When D'Antoni called out Lin Feng's name, most of the players in the locker room cast complicated looks his way.
Envy, jealousy, and a hint of defiance.
A rookie who had only proven himself in a practice game jumping straight into the starting lineup was an extremely rare occurrence in the strictly hierarchical NBA.
Lin Feng sat in front of his locker, calmly tying his shoelaces, completely indifferent to the gazes around him.
Kobe, due to his Achilles injury, sat on a nearby sofa in a suit; he didn't participate in tactical discussions, merely observing his territory like a silent black panther.
The TV on the locker room wall was playing ESPN's pre-game analysis.
The screen cut to an interview from the Warriors Team's side.
A baby-faced player who still looked a bit youthful appeared on screen; he was the Warriors Team's rising star, Stephen Curry.
The reporter handed over the microphone.
"Stephen, what do you think of tonight's opponent, the Lakers' much-anticipated rookie Lin Feng? Many people are saying he'll be the next great shooter."
Curry gave his signature smile to the camera, carrying a hint of youthful spirit.
"I've heard of that kid and seen his videos; that shot was indeed crazy."
"I'm looking forward to a three-point contest with him. I hope he can bring me some surprises tonight."
His words sounded polite, but anyone could hear the confidence and sense of challenge behind them.
In the locker room, Nick Young let out a sneer.
"Kid, did you hear that? He's calling you out by name."
Lin Feng just looked up at the TV screen and said nothing.
D'Antoni clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.
"Alright, guys, let's head out for warm-ups!"
The lights of the Staples Center brightened as the players ran onto the court from the tunnel.
When the arena DJ shouted "From China——Lin Feng!" in an exaggerated tone, the entire arena erupted in massive cheers and screams.
Lin Feng felt the waves of sound crashing over him, but his heart remained unmoved.
He knew that as enthusiastic as these cheers were, the boos that would follow if he performed poorly would be just as piercing.
The game officially began.
The Lakers won the tip-off, and Nash slowly advanced with the ball.
Everyone's eyes were focused on Lin Feng.
As soon as he crossed half-court, the Warriors Team's defensive stalwart Klay Thompson stuck to him like glue, never leaving his side.
Lin Feng tried to move and find an opening.
But wherever he ran, Thompson followed.
Even when he made a fake off-ball screen, another wing player from the Warriors Team would immediately come to help, forming a brief double-team.
The Golden State Warriors' defensive strategy was simple and blunt to the extreme.
Lock down Lin Feng!
Give him no space to catch the ball or take a shot!
Nash saw this; the passing master didn't force the ball to Lin Feng.
He directed Lin Feng, telling him to use his gravity to weave back and forth outside the three-point line.
Sure enough, Lin Feng's movement completely drew the defensive attention of the Warriors Team's wings.
Nash delivered a subtle bounce pass through the defensive gap to Gasol near the free-throw line.
Gasol caught the ball with an open path ahead.
He easily hit a mid-range jumper.
2:0.
"Beautiful team play!"
"We can see that the Warriors Team's defensive intensity on Lin Feng is very high, which instead gives opportunities to other Los Angeles Lakers players," the commentator analyzed.
In the following possessions, the script on the court remained exactly the same.
Lin Feng was like a top-tier decoy, leading the Warriors Team's defenders on a wild chase outside the three-point line.
He couldn't even touch the ball.
But every time he moved, he could tear through the Warriors Team's defense, creating open looks for his teammates.
Nash's passing, Gasol's shooting, and Kaman's interior scoring.
The Lakers' offense flowed smoothly.
At the end of the first quarter, the score was 28-20, with the Lakers leading by 8 points.
And on Lin Feng's stat sheet, everything except for his 12 minutes of playing time was zero.
Zero points, zero rebounds, zero assists, zero shot attempts.
During halftime, the sentiment online began to shift quietly.
"This is it? The champion of running laps all game?"
"LMAO, he can't even touch the ball. This is the eastern magician you all were hyping up?"
"Locked down, completely locked down! A flash in the pan, just as expected!"
"I told you that video from the other day was fake. How could a Summer League scrub suddenly become a god?"
Voices of doubt and ridicule began to spread across major basketball forums and social media.
The second half began.
D'Antoni didn't change the lineup; Lin Feng remained on the court.
The Warriors Team's defensive strategy hadn't changed, still tightly clinging to him.
The score climbed back and forth, with the Lakersmaintaining a slim lead.
Halfway through the third quarter.
During a Lakers possession, Nash was organizing the play while dribbling.
Through a back-cut, Lin Feng finally received a pass from Nash two steps beyond the three-point line at the top of the key.
This was the first time all game he had received the ball in such an open position.
Thompson, who was defending him, was slightly delayed by a screen and was frantically rushing over.
Meanwhile, Curry, who had been roaming nearby, immediately switched and squared up against Lin Feng.
The eyes of the entire arena converged at this moment.
"Here it comes! Is Lin Feng finally going to shoot?" The commentator's voice was filled with excitement.
Curry spread his arms, blocking Lin Feng's path with that nonchalant smile on his face.
He defended while using trash talk to distract him.
"Kid, has your magic disappeared?"
"Aren't you tired after running for half the game?"
"This isn't the practice gym; nobody's going to let you shoot."
Lin Feng looked at Curry in front of him and ignored his words.
He just gave a small smile.
That smile left Curry a bit stunned.
In that split second while Curry was dazed.
Lin Feng moved.
No jab steps, no extra fakes.
From over two meters behind the three-point line, under Curry's incredulous gaze, he jumped straight up.
His body extended, and his wrist flicked.
The basketball, with a perfect rotation, flew from his fingertips.
It traced an arc that made the entire Staples Center hold its breath.
Chapter 12: Listen, That's the Sound of Staples CenterExploding
Time was stretched infinitely at this moment.
The basketball left Lin Feng's fingertips, spinning at high speed as it flew toward the sky.
That orange arc, under the illumination of tens of thousands of lights in the Staples Center, appeared so clear yet so surreal.
At the commentary desk, Announcer A, who usually maintained his composure, had a voice that was already starting to tremble.
"This is a crazy choice!"
"He's still two steps outside the three-point line! Facing Stephen Curry's defense!"
"He actually dares to take a shot in this situation!"
His partner, Announcer B, was so nervous he was speechless; he just stood there with his mouth open, eyes fixed on the basketball flying through the air.
The camera provided a slow-motion close-up on the court.
The cynical smile on Stephen Curry's face froze completely.
He looked up, his baby face filled with bewilderment and confusion.
He couldn't understand how this Eastern kid dared—how he could respond to his provocation in such a manner.
On the other side, Klay Thompson, who had just lunged over frantically, was frozen mid-air.
His arm was extended, yet he was still a step away from Lin Feng, his face full of disbelief.
The Lakers bench.
Everyone stood up.
Steve Nash, the legendary point guard who was used to big scenes, now also clenched his fists tightly, watching without blinking.
Pau Gasol held his head high, the Spaniard's eyes full of expectation.
Nick Young's mouth was wide open, his comical expression perfectly replicating the look of ninety percent of the audience.
And at the very back of the crowd, the man in the sharp suit moved.
Kobe Bryant.
His body, which had been leaning against the back of his chair, had leaned forward slightly at some point.
He didn't look at the flying basketball.
His eyes, those sharp eagle eyes, were locked on Lin Fengfrom start to finish.
He scrutinized Lin Feng's overly calm expression after the shot and his unwavering stance.
The basketball reached its highest point.
The clamor of tens of thousands of people in the entire arena vanished eerily at this moment.
The screams, the discussions, the cheering—all were drained away.
The world went quiet.
In everyone's ears, only their own drum-like heartbeats remained, along with the faint whistling of the basketball rubbing against the air.
Silence.
Extreme silence.
And then.
"Swish!"
An incredibly crisp, incredibly pleasant sound of the ball passing through the net was infinitely amplified by the small microphone under the rim.
It spread clearly to every corner of the arena.
It also reached the ears of every viewer watching the game worldwide through television and live streaming.
Nothing but net!
In the Staples Center, a venue that had boiled over for countless legends, it experienced the longest 0.5 seconds in its history at this moment.
A deathly silence.
Followed by.
"BOOM—!"
A mountain collapse and a tsunami!
The energy accumulated to the extreme exploded with a bang at this moment!
Cheers, screams, and roars converged into a terrifying wave of sound that almost completely blew the roof off the Staples Center!
"OH MY GOD! HE MADE IT!"
Announcer A jumped up from his seat, shouting at the top of his lungs, his voice completely cracking!
"Lin Feng!"
"In the first shot of his NBA career!"
"Under the gaze of the whole world!"
"He made a shot from God! A super long-range three-pointer that will go down in history!"
The internet completely crashed at this moment.
In the official live broadcast room, the bullet chat was completely covered by two phrases the second before the screen lagged.
"HOLY SHIT!"
"WTF!"
Those posts on basketball forums and social media that had been frantically mocking Lin Feng earlier instantly washed away without a trace.
"[GIF] Lin Feng's super long-range three, front view!"
"[Screenshot] Record of Curry's expression changes, from arrogant to dazed!"
"Deleting my posts, deleting my posts. My face hurts so much. Don't let my mom know I called Lin Feng trash!"
"I declare that from today on, I am a Lin fan! Who's with me?!"
"This isn't called a shot; it's called an ICBM! Precision-guided!"
Countless GIFs and short videos were captured the moment the basketball entered the net, spreading across the global internet like a virus.
On the court.
Warriors Team head coach Mark Jackson subconsciously called a timeout.
The piercing sound of the buzzer rang out, but it was completely drowned out by the waves of sound on the scene.
Amidst the madness and chaos of the entire arena, only one person was as calm as the center of a storm.
Lin Feng.
After shooting that ball, he didn't even take an extra look at the rim.
When the crisp sound of the ball swishing through the net came, he just turned around expressionlessly and began jogging back to his own half.
As if what he had just done was just an ordinary shooting practice.
This extreme composure formed a sharp contrast with the surrounding frenzy.
Curry stood there dazed; he first looked at the rim, then suddenly turned his head to look at Lin Feng's receding back.
The sharper trash talk he had prepared was all stuck in his throat, and he couldn't say a single word.
The expression on his face went from bewilderment to shock, and finally turned into an indescribable complexity.
The Lakers players went crazy.
Nick Young was the first to rush up, jumping onto Lin Feng's back, screaming like a monkey.
"You monster!"
Gasol and Kaman also crowded around, slapping Lin Feng's head and back hard.
Nash walked over with a smile and extended his fist toward Lin Feng.
Lin Feng also smiled and bumped fists with him.
"Great pass, Steve."
"Even better shot, Lin." Nash's eyes were full of admiration.
By the sideline.
Lakers head coach D'Antoni jumped up from his seat the moment the ball went in, fiercely pumping his fist into the air.
The expression on his face was pure ecstasy.
He had been waiting for this!
What he wanted was for Lin Feng to prove himself in this most unreasonable way on such a high-profile stage!
He didn't go to celebrate; instead, during the timeout interval, he grabbed Nash, who was about to walk back to the bench.
His eyes were burning, and without any redundant words, he just made an extremely clear tactical gesture to the team's brain.
That gesture represented one meaning.
From now on, abandon all complex tactical rotations.
Give the ball to Lin Feng!
Chapter 13: The Ace's Challenge
The sound of the timeout buzzer seemed somewhat weak amidst the clamor of the arena.
Nash saw D'Antoni's hand gestures clearly.
This two-time MVP, a veteran who had fought in the league for nearly twenty years, looked at Lin Feng with a completely different gaze at this moment.
It was no longer the guidance and care of a senior toward a promising rookie.
Instead, it was an equal trust, the kind where one could leave their back to the other.
It was the recognition from one warrior to another ace who could determine the outcome of the battle.
He nodded solemnly toward D'Antoni.
In front of the Lakers' bench, the atmosphere was equally fanatical.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did you see that! What was that!"
Sacre was like a madman; he stripped off his training vest and waved it frantically over his head, cheering for Lin Feng on the court.
His teammates beside him, who had previously harbored slight complaints about Lin Feng being parachuted into the starting lineup, now all had their mouths agape, faces filled with shock.
Jealousy? Discontent?
In the face of such a miraculous shot, any negative emotions seemed laughable.
All that remained was the purest form of awe.
"This guy... is a monster."
Center Chris Kaman murmured to himself; he had just been setting an off-ball screen for Lin Feng.
He only realized now that he wasn't screening for an ordinary shooter, but for a mobile artillery battery.
Nick Young's expression was the most complex; as he watched Lin Feng's back, his eyes held a hint of inexplicable excitement alongside the shock.
He seemed to have already foreseen how interesting it would be to play with such a teammate.
On the other side, at the Warriors Team's bench, the atmosphere was solemn to the extreme.
head coach Mark Jackson's face was ashen.
He furrowed his brows tightly, his mind in a state of chaos.
A monster capable of making a shot like that had completely disrupted all of his pre-game deployments.
How to defend him?
Play him tight? He can force a shot right in your face.
Give him a step? He can fire directly from two meters behind the three-point line.
Double-team? The Lakers still have Nash and Gasol.
This was simply an unsolvable problem.
"Don't lose your defensive discipline! Maintain your rotations!"
He shouted at his players, but his voice betrayed a lack of confidence that even he didn't notice.
The timeout ended, and the game resumed.
The Warriors Team inbounded the ball in the backcourt.
Curry received the ball and slowly advanced toward the frontcourt.
The smile on his face had vanished, and for the first time, that baby face became incredibly serious.
He dribbled the ball, but his gaze bypassed everyone and landed on Lin Feng at the other end of the court.
It was a look of scrutiny, of inquiry, and even more, a fighting spirit that had been ignited.
He didn't choose to attack himself, nor did he try to respond with an equally unreasonable three-pointer.
He was very calm, handing the ball to Klay Thompson, who had run into an open spot.
The Warriors Team's offense was still proceeding according to the tactical plan.
But everyone could feel that something was already different.
Thompson caught the ball and, facing Gasol's help defense, took a pull-up jumper.
Clang!
The basketball hit the front of the rim and bounced high.
Perhaps the shock from Lin Feng's shot had slightly affected his shooting rhythm.
Kaman firmly boxed out, secured the defensive rebound, and passed the ball to Nash.
Lakers, on the offensive.
Nash controlled the ball across half-court, his movements unhurried.
At this very moment.
Inside the Staples Center, tens of thousands of spectators seemed to receive the same command.
"LIN—!"
"LIN—!"
"LIN—!"
The uniform shouts converged from all directions of the arena.
The sound rose layer by layer, finally merging into an earth-shaking wave of noise.
This was no longer sporadic cheering, but a mountain-moving, sea-shaking pilgrimage.
They were welcoming the birth of a new king.
Listening to the deafening shouts, a smile appeared at the corner of Nash's mouth.
He looked up, scanned the court, and finally found Lin Feng's position with precision.
The Warriors Team's defensive formation was completely in disarray.
Thompson and another wing player were drawn to Lin Feng like two magnets, not daring to give him even an inch of space.
But the more they did this, the stronger Lin Feng's presence became.
Just by standing there, he was enough to bring the opponent's defensive line to the brink of collapse.
Beep—!
Another piercing buzzer sounded.
Mark Jackson could not tolerate this loss of control; he was almost hopping mad as he called for another timeout.
The game had only just restarted for one possession, and he had called another timeout.
This was an extremely rare situation in an NBA game.
But at this moment, no one found it strange.
Everyone knew he had to do it.
If he didn't stop it now, the Warriors Team would be completely overwhelmed by the momentum known as "Lin Feng."
The Warriors Team's players walked back to the bench with their heads down.
The atmosphere was terrifyingly oppressive.
Mark Jackson held the tactical board, his mouth opening and closing, but he didn't know what to say.
Any tactic seemed pale and weak in the face of those unreasonable shots.
Just then.
A voice rang out in the heavy atmosphere.
"Coach."
Stephen Curry stood up.
He walked up to Mark Jackson, the previous greenness gone from his eyes, replaced by a soaring, burning fighting spirit.
He didn't look at the tactical board, only into his coach's eyes.
"Let me guard him."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a pebble thrown into a lake, stirring up waves in everyone's hearts.
All the Warriors Team players looked up at their ace.
Having the team's primary scorer focus on defending an opposing player?
In basketball philosophy, this was almost equivalent to a suicidal attack.
Not only would it greatly exhaust Curry's own stamina, but it would also put him in foul trouble.
But Mark Jackson looked into Curry's blazing eyes and understood the meaning behind them.
It wasn't a momentary impulse.
It was one ace issuing a challenge to another rising ace.
He wanted to respond to his opponent in the most direct and purest way.
After a few seconds of silence.
Mark Jackson nodded slowly but with great force.
"Okay."
The whistle to end the timeout sounded.
The players walked back onto the court.
The spectators at the Staples Center keenly noticed the change on the floor.
The Warriors Team's defensive formation had changed.
Stephen Curry did not return to his usual defensive position.
He crossed the court and walked straight up to Lin Feng.
He stopped, lowered his center of gravity slightly, and assumed a standard defensive stance.
Those eyes were locked firmly onto Lin Feng.
An ace-versus-ace shooter's duel was inevitable.
Chapter 14: Your Way, My Answer
The game resumed.
Lakers' backcourt ball.
Nash stood outside the sideline, ready to inbound the ball.
On the court, everyone's eyes were focused on two people.
Lin Feng.
Stephen Curry.
Curry didn't stay in his defensive area; like a cheetah eyeing its prey, he stuck close to Lin Feng, who had just run past half-court.
Full-court press!
Gasps erupted throughout the Staples Center.
"My god, Stephen is going to defend Lin Feng personally!"
"And a full-court press! Is he crazy?"
Announcer A's voice was full of disbelief.
"This is a declaration of ace vs. ace! Curry is using his own way to issue a challenge to Lin Feng!" Announcer Bshouted excitedly.
Nash looked at the scene before him and wasn't in a hurry to inbound.
He saw Curry's body pressed tightly against Lin Feng, one hand held high to interfere with the passing lane, and the other constantly using small movements at Lin Feng's waist.
It wasn't the kind of pure power-based entanglement like Klay Thompson's.
Curry's defense was full of rhythm and anticipation.
His footwork was light and precise, like he was dancing, but every step blocked Lin Feng's most uncomfortable positions.
His palms constantly roamed over Lin Feng's body, sometimes tapping, sometimes pushing, using continuous harassment to disrupt Lin Feng's preparation to receive the ball.
For the first time, Lin Feng felt this level of pressure.
He tried to make a back-cut, but as soon as he exerted force, Curry's body seemed to have predicted it, directly cutting off his path.
He wanted to use a fake to shake him off, but Curry's center of gravity was as steady as a rock, completely unmoved.
"Kid, welcome to the NBA."
Curry's voice came close to his ear, with a hint of provocative panting.
"This isn't a place where you can just shoot whenever you want."
Lin Feng didn't respond.
His expression remained calm, but his body already felt the strength of his opponent.
This was a truly elite scorer; he knew all the habits and weaknesses of scorers.
Nash saw the opportunity and passed the ball to Gasol, who had come to support.
Then, he made a subtle gesture to Gasol.
The Spaniard understood.
The Lakers' offense began to move.
Gasol held the ball at the high post, like a facilitating pivot.
Nash began moving off-ball, drawing the Warriors Team's defense away.
Meanwhile, on the other side, the struggle between Lin Feng and Curry reached a fever pitch.
Lin Feng used a simple screen from Nick Young to temporarily gain half a body's lead.
He ran toward the three-point line at the top of the arc.
Curry, like a ghost, immediately rounded the screen and chased after him again.
Just then.
Pau Gasol, the big man with elite basketball IQ and facilitating skills, moved.
He took a firm step, like building a wall on the court, solidly blocking Curry's pursuit path.
A high-quality off-ball screen!
"Beautiful screen!" a cry of admiration came from the commentary booth.
Curry crashed into Gasol's broad chest, his forward momentum completely halted.
Just that millisecond of delay!
Lin Feng ran into a tiny opening.
He didn't even look back, just reached out toward the designated spot.
Nash's pass arrived.
The basketball, as if programmed with a navigation system, threaded through the crowd, bypassed arms, and landed precisely in Lin Feng's hands.
Precise as a scalpel!
Everyone in the Staples Center stood up.
They knew it was coming!
The moment Lin Feng caught the ball, Curry, who had rounded the screen, lunged over like a madman.
Fire burned in his eyes, and his face was written with stubborn refusal to lose.
"Kid, luck won't strike twice!"
He roared, leaping into the air, arms extended to the limit, his huge palm looming over the basketball in Lin Feng's hands.
He was going to block this damn shot!
However.
Lin Feng ignored his shouting.
Nor did he look at the palm that blotted out the sun.
The moment he caught the ball, his body made its most instinctive reaction.
No adjustment, no pause.
Catch, gather, jump.
The entire sequence was incredibly fluid, as if rehearsed a thousand times.
His body unfolded in the air, and his wrist gave a light flick.
The basketball flew from his fingertips.
Just before Curry's fingertips could touch the ball, it flew out.
Too slow.
Still one step too slow.
Curry's body sailed through the air, his fingertips feeling only the wind stirred by the basketball as it flew past.
In his pupils was reflected that orange basketball, tracing that beautiful arc in the air that he was so familiar with.
The entire arena fell into that eerie silence once again.
Everyone's eyes followed the ball.
Time slowed down at this moment.
"Swish!"
The crisp, pleasant sound of the ball piercing the net rang out again.
Like heavenly music!
It's in again!
Nothing but net again!
After a silence of half a second, the Staples Centercompletely exploded!
"Boom—!"
A wave of sound, more violent and crazed than the last, swept through the entire arena!
"Two points! No! It's a three! The three-pointer is good!"
"He made it again! Under Stephen Curry's Death Grip! He made another three-pointer!"
"Crazy! The world has gone completely crazy!"
Announcer A's voice was already hoarse; he held his head and let out a wail of disbelief.
On the court.
Lin Feng landed steadily.
He didn't celebrate, didn't roar.
He just turned around and, amidst the mountain-shaking background noise of the crowd, gave Curry a look.
It was a calm gaze.
No provocation, no mockery.
Just looking at him calmly.
But this gaze was more powerful than any trash talk.
It seemed to say:
This isn't luck.
This is my way.
Then, Lin Feng turned around and began running back to his own half-court.
Curry landed from the air, stumbling a couple of steps before steadying himself.
He looked at Lin Feng's calm back, his chest heaving violently.
Humiliation, shock, resentment, and a hint of madness that had been completely ignited.
All these emotions intertwined in his mind, finally turning into a most primal impulse.
He was going to pay him back!
In the same way, pay him back!
Warriors Team's baseline inbound.
Curry didn't even wait for his teammates to get into position; he rushed over and took the ball from the inbounding Iguodala.
"Stephen has the ball! What is he going to do?"
After receiving the ball, Curry didn't pause for a second.
Like an infuriated bull, he dribbled frantically and charged toward the frontcourt.
His speed reached the limit, turning himself into a bolt of golden lightning.
The one defending him was Steve Nash.
Nash spread his arms, attempting to slow him down.
But at this moment, Curry only had eyes for the basket.
He dribbled to a spot one step beyond the three-point line, facing Nash's defense without any sign of slowing down.
A sudden stop!
An unreasonable pull-up jumper!
His body leaped forcefully under the immense inertia, leaning back slightly.
This was an extremely unreasonable shot selection!
But the moment the ball left his fingertips, he smiled.
It was a crazed smile, filled with boundless confidence.
The basketball traced a high arc in the air.
Everyone's heart jumped into their throats.
"Swish!"
The crisp sound of the ball piercing the net rang out in the arena for the third time!
The ball went straight into the net!
Chapter 15: Gods Fighting, Mortals Watching the Show
Curry landed steadily. He didn't celebrate, nor did he roar.
He simply turned around amidst the roaring sound waves of the entire arena and pointed his finger at Lin Feng in the distance.
Then, he fiercely jabbed the floor beneath his feet.
The meaning couldn't have been clearer.
This is my territory!
"He responded! Stephen Curry responded to Lin Fengwith an equally unbelievable shot!"
"This is a declaration! The declaration of an Ace!"
The commentator's voice had gone completely wild.
The atmosphere in the Staples Center was ignited to an unprecedented peak at this moment.
The fans were no longer simply cheering for the Los Angeles Lakers; they were going crazy for the historic scene unfolding before their eyes.
They were witnessing a battle between gods!
The Lakers were on offense.
Nash controlled the ball, the shouts of "LIN! LIN! LIN!" roaring like a tsunami in his ears.
He was not affected by the atmosphere and calmly observed the situation on the court.
Curry stuck to Lin Feng like glue, refusing to give him any easy chance to receive the ball.
Nash didn't hesitate, delivering an accurate bounce pass steadily into Lin Feng's hands.
The duel continued!
All eyes focused once again.
Lin Feng received the ball, facing Curry directly.
Curry lowered his center of gravity, his baby face full of concentration, like a cheetah preparing to pounce.
"Come on, rookie, let me see what else you've got." Curry's trash talk was accompanied by heavy breathing.
Lin Feng ignored him and started dribbling.
A crossover, followed by a hesitation move.
His movements weren't fast, but his rhythm was incredibly strong, making his next intention unpredictable.
Everyone thought he was going to use an isolation play to answer Curry.
Even Curry himself was fully focused, guarding against Lin Feng's pull-up jumper.
Just then, Lin Feng's body suddenly dipped to the right, faking a drive.
Curry's center of gravity subconsciously shifted half a step to follow.
That was the moment!
Lin Feng flicked his wrist. The ball didn't fly upward; instead, as if it had a life of its own, it skimmed the floor and slipped through the gap beside Curry's raised foot!
An unexpected bounce pass!
Nobody expected it!
When the whole world thought he was going for an isolation duel, he chose to pass!
A figure in white understood instantly and cut in from the paint.
Pau Gasol!
The Spaniard easily received the surgical pass, finding open space ahead of him.
He took three large strides to the basket and easily laid it up.
The ball hit the backboard and went in.
"Beep—!"
The referee's whistle sounded simultaneously.
The Warriors Team center, Bogut, who came over to help defend, was a step too slow and fouled Gasol hard on the arm.
2+1!
Gasol excitedly pounded his chest, then gave a thumbs-up to Lin Feng from afar.
That pass was too perfect!
After a brief moment of surprise, the fans in the Staples Center erupted in even warmer applause.
The applause was filled with appreciation.
On the sidelines, Lakers head coach D'Antoni clapped his hands with a "snap," his face showing undisguised ecstasy.
He turned and shouted to the assistant coach beside him.
"Did you see that! This kid's basketball IQ! He didn't get carried away! He knows how to play the game the right way!"
Meanwhile, at the back of the bench, the man in the suit showed a subtle shift in posture.
Kobe Bryant.
His body, which had been leaning forward, slowly leaned back against the seat.
The look in his eyes when he watched Lin Feng held something new.
It wasn't admiration for a super shooter, but recognition for a true basketball player.
This rookie not only had a sharp edge but also a sharp mind.
What he saw was the shadow of a general, not just a sniper.
Gasol steadily made the free throw.
It was the Warriors Team's turn to attack.
Curry felt his cheeks burning.
He had been fooled.
In front of the entire world, he had been tricked by this Oriental kid in a way that was almost humiliating.
The provoked fury was burning fiercely in his chest.
He stopped sticking to the ball and began running frantically off-ball.
Like a slippery loach, he weaved through the Lakers' defense, running around his teammates' screens.
The top of the arc.
David Lee set a solid screen for him.
Curry, like a flash of lightning, rounded the screen and received the pass while moving.
Due to inertia, his body was still drifting sideways; he was practically flying horizontally through the air.
This was a completely unbalanced posture.
But he made no adjustment whatsoever.
Mid-air, he forcibly twisted his body and released the shot!
An incredible fading sideways three-pointer!
"Stephen Curry! He has completely entered'Sun-Shooter' Mode!"
"He is unstoppable! He's going to shoot through the roof of Staples Center today!"
The commentator no longer knew what words to use to describe the sight before him.
"Swish!"
The basketball went straight through the net once again!
Curry's eyes, like burning flames, were fixed intensely on Lin Feng.
Provoke, score, provoke again!
The pace of the game had been completely driven into madness by these two men.
The Lakers inbounded the ball.
Nash was preparing to control the rhythm and steadily bring the ball across half court.
A clear and resolute voice cut through the noise.
"Steve!"
Nash looked up.
He saw Lin Feng, having just crossed the mid-court line, standing one step away from the huge, purple and gold Los Angeles Lakers Logo, clapping his hands hard and demanding the ball.
Nash froze.
From there?
What was he trying to do?
That distance was farther than any shot he had made before!
That could no longer be called a shooting spot!
The entire audience noticed this bizarre scene, and murmurs rose everywhere.
Curry, who was guarding Lin Feng, even showed a hint of a mocking smile at the corner of his mouth when he saw this.
He simply didn't stick close, instead crossing his arms and standing inside the three-point line, as if watching a joke unfold.
"You want to shoot from there? Be my guest."
Lin Feng didn't look at Curry; his eyes were locked solely on Nash.
The confidence and determination in that look were undeniable.
Give me the ball!
Now!
Nash's heart suddenly pounded.
Logic told him this was an utterly ridiculous choice.
But looking at Lin Feng's eyes, which seemed capable of burning everything, his body's instinct overruled his logic.
He chose to believe.
To believe in this young man who had created miracles tonight!
Nash suddenly threw a cross-court pass; the basketball whistled toward Lin Feng like a cannonball.
Lin Feng caught the ball.
No dribbling.
No adjustment.
Not even a moment of aiming.
The instant the ball touched his palm, his body leaped up naturally.
Right by the Logo, just past mid-court, more than thirty feet from the hoop!
He shot it immediately!
"What did he do!?"
The commentator's voice cracked and distorted from extreme shock!
Warriors Team coach Mark Jackson suddenly sprang from his seat, his expression twisted into a mixture of anger and absurdity.
"No! That's not basketball!"
He roared hysterically at the court, but his voice was drowned out by the impending sonic boom.
This kind of shot was a desecration of the sport of basketball!
It was a ruthless mockery of all tactics and discipline!
The basketball left Lin Feng's fingertips.
It flew so high and so far, carving an arc beneath the Staples Center dome spotlights that challenged everyone's imagination.
The entire world fell silent at this moment.
On the court, on the benches, and in the stands, tens of thousands of spectators held their breath simultaneously.
Chapter 16: Who is the Real Sharpshooter?
The basketball spun rapidly, tracing a near-perfect arc through the air.
Like a precision-guided missile endowed with life, it crossed half-court, soared over everyone's heads, and flew straight toward its singular destination.
In the Staples Center, tens of thousands of eyes converged into invisible trajectories, flying along with the ball.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely at this moment.
And then.
Swish!
A crisp, crystalline sound of the ball piercing the net—so pleasant it made scalps tingle—echoed through the arena for the third time!
This time, it wasn't just a simple basket.
It was a resounding slap, fiercely striking everyone across the face.
It was a heavy hammer, shattering all inherent perceptions people had about the sport of basketball.
It was a proclamation, announcing the descent of a new god!
After a full second of deathly silence, the Staples Centererupted with the most terrifying wave of sound since its construction!
It wasn't just cheering, nor was it just screaming.
It was an indescribable collective emotional venting, a mixture of shock, fanaticism, fear, and worship!
"My God!"
Announcer A ripped off his headset and stood up, clutching his hair frantically, roaring at the commentary table like a madman.
"What am I seeing! What on earth am I seeing!"
"Is this a basketball game? No! It isn't!"
"This is one man's performance of miracles!"
On the court.
All the players of the Warriors Team stood frozen in place, as if under a paralysis spell.
The anger and absurdity on the face of their head coach, Mark Jackson, had solidified into a distorted sculpture.
And Stephen Curry.
He stood inside the three-point line, at the very spot he had used to mock Lin Feng earlier.
The sneer on his face had long since vanished.
Anger and resentment had also completely faded away.
In their place was a pure, soul-deep astonishment and blankness.
He couldn't understand it.
He truly couldn't understand.
How could someone in this world play basketball this way?
This was no longer just being unreasonable.
This was using the power of a god to crush the rules of mortals.
Just then, a figure jogged past him.
It was Lin Feng.
After making the shot, he didn't even glance at the hoop; he simply turned back to defend calmly.
As he passed Curry, his pace didn't falter for a second as he whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Surprised?"
Those three words were light, yet they felt like a red-hot steel needle stabbing deep into Curry's heart.
This was the response.
This was the most direct and cruel response to all the trash talk from the start of the game.
Curry's body jolted. He turned his head and stared fixedly at Lin Feng's calm back, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
The game had completely lost its suspense.
The remaining time became Lin Feng's solo performance and a torment for the entire Warriors Team.
The other players on the court, whether teammates or opponents, became witnesses to this miracle.
They became spectators on the floor.
The Lakers players, including future Hall of Famers Nashand Gasol, found their tasks incredibly simple.
Defend.
Rebound.
Then, give the ball to Lin Feng.
After dribbling across half-court, Nash didn't even look for tactical positioning anymore; his first choice was always to find Lin Feng's location.
The moment Gasol grabbed a rebound, he immediately looked up to find the figure of the Easterner.
The game reached the middle of the fourth quarter.
Nick Young received a pass from Nash after a beautiful backdoor cut.
He was facing an empty hoop; a simple layup would easily earn him two points.
In any other game, he would have finished the play without hesitation and performed his signature "Swaggy P" celebration.
But this time, he hesitated.
He glanced at the hoop, then subconsciously turned his head to look at Lin Feng, who was being tightly smothered by two Warriors players outside the three-point line.
That position wasn't an opportunity at all.
But Nick Young didn't think.
He followed his inner choice.
With a flick of his wrist, he passed out the ball that was a guaranteed score.
He passed it to Lin Feng, whose position wasn't even good.
He had been completely won over.
He was willing to sacrifice his own stats just to see the miracle performed one more time.
"Nick Young! He actually passed!"
Exclamations erupted from the commentary booth.
The moment Lin Feng caught the ball, he felt immense pressure from the defenders.
Thompson and Iguodala, the Warriors' two best perimeter defenders, clamped down on him like iron pincers.
They used body contact and arm interference, giving him not a single inch of shooting space.
But Lin Feng's face remained expressionless.
In that cramped gap with almost no space, he forced a jump shot with an extremely strained posture.
His body leaned back in the air until it was almost parallel to the ground.
An extreme fadeaway jumper!
Clang!
The ball hit the backboard.
Everyone thought the shot would miss.
But after striking the backboard, the orange basketball eerily bounced upward, traced a small arc in the air, and dropped precisely into the net!
It went in again!
A bank shot!
The Warriors players' mental state had completely collapsed.
Their defensive actions began to get increasingly rough.
During an interior defensive play, Bogut used a crude move to knock the driving Gasol to the ground.
The referee's whistle blew without hesitation—a flagrant foul.
And Curry, the once agile and elegant shooter, was now like a trapped beast.
On one possession, facing Nash's defense, he tried to perform a flashy behind-the-back dribble because he was in too much of a hurry.
Smack!
The ball slipped away.
He committed a turnover.
Nick Young, like a bolt of black lightning, darted out from the side and snatched the ball.
The Lakers launched a fast break!
Nick Young charged toward the frontcourt. He had no intention of laying it up himself; after drawing the defense, he immediately passed the ball to the trailing Lin Feng.
Lin Feng caught the pass.
The path ahead of him was wide open, with no defenders in sight.
In the entire Staples Center, everyone stood up, waiting for an earth-shattering dunk.
They expected Lin Feng to use a flight to the rim to put a perfect period on this great performance.
However, Lin Feng didn't.
He dribbled the ball unhurriedly to the three-point line.
Then, he stopped.
A sudden stop.
Just when everyone thought he was going to shoot another three, he made a move that made the whole world hold its breath.
He stopped outside the three-point line but didn't shoot immediately.
He looked back.
He cast a glance behind him.
He saw the figure desperately chasing back to defend.
It was Stephen Curry, wearing the Warriors' number 30 jersey, his face full of resentment and madness.
Lin Feng just looked at him.
Then, under Curry's gaze, he leaped calmly and released the ball from his hand.
A humiliating look-back shot.
The basketball traced one final perfect arc in the air.
Swish!
Nothing but net.