Chapter 66: The black mamba's Support
Los Angeles, Staples Center.
The air felt as if it had been ignited, every speck of dust carrying a frenetic electric current.
With half an hour left before the game started, the arena was already packed to capacity.
Every camera lens and every person's gaze was focused on a corner of the court.
That man wearing the number 24 purple and gold jersey was currently performing shooting warm-ups.
Kobe Bryant.
He was back.
His cheeks were thinner than before his injury, and his facial lines were harder and colder.
Every jump and every shot appeared so cautious, lacking his former explosive power.
The shadow of the ruptured Achilles tendon was like an invisible shackle, binding this once omnipotent black mamba.
The fans' emotions were complex.
They cheered wildly for his return, yet felt heartache and worry for his visibly weakened state.
Lin Feng sat on the bench, watching that back.
That back, which once seemed like a god—invincible—now exuded the tragic heroism of a twilight hero.
He couldn't understand why Kobe would do this.
Gambling his entire career for a playoff spot that only had a slim chance of being reached.
Was it worth it?
"Lin, get ready to go on."
D'Antoni's voice pulled him back to reality.
Lin Feng stood up, took off his warm-up suit, and walked onto the court.
Tonight's opponent was the Minnesota Timberwolves.
A young team featuring 'Love God' Kevin Love and 'Golden Boy' Ricky Rubio.
During the pre-game player introductions, when the PA announcer shouted Kobe's name with all his might, the sound wave that erupted from the Staples Center nearly blew the roof off the arena.
Kobe merely high-fived his teammates expressionlessly.
Lin Feng was the last one.
Kobe's palm slapped hard against his hand.
"Don't think too much."
Kobe's voice was very low.
"Just play your game."
The game started with the tip-off, and the Lakers gained possession.
Lin Feng dribbled the ball, slowly crossing half-court.
He stood at the top of the arc, his gaze subconsciously drifting toward Kobe on the wing.
This was a habit formed over the past five games; when a play didn't develop or when he felt lost, handing the ball to Kobe seemed like the only solution.
Even though Kobe in that position was no longer the playmaker Nash.
He didn't hesitate, delivering a bounce pass steadily into Kobe's hands.
The entire crowd stood up.
They were expectant, waiting.
Waiting for Kobe to announce his return with a signature isolation play.
The Timberwolves' defender also nervously pressed up, not daring to be the least bit careless.
Kobe caught the ball.
He didn't make any jab steps, nor did he make any shot fakes.
He performed an action that was difficult for the over 18,000 spectators to understand.
He dribbled the ball, not looking at the basket, but instead walking toward Lin Feng's direction.
Then, he stopped, spread his legs, and lowered his center of gravity.
He set a solid off-ball screen for Lin Feng.
Time seemed to freeze for a brief moment.
The Timberwolves' defender was stunned.
D'Antoni, on the sidelines, opened his mouth in surprise.
Gasol and Howard on the bench looked at each other in disbelief.
Lin Feng was also dazed.
Kobe Bryant was setting a pick for him?
The black mamba, who had been proud his whole life and viewed scoring as his lifeblood, was playing a supporting role for a first-year rookie like him?
"Move!"
Kobe growled, waking Lin Feng from his shock.
Lin Feng's body, almost by instinct, rounded Kobe's screen and ran toward the opposite corner.
Kobe's screen was of extremely high quality, like a wall, pinning the defender firmly behind him.
The ball was timely passed to Lin Feng by Gasol from the high post.
Open.
A massive wide-open opportunity.
Lin Feng caught the ball, jumped, and released.
The motion was seamless.
The basketball traced a perfect arc through the air.
"Swish!"
Nothing but net!
Three-pointer made!
The entire Staples Center, after a brief silence, erupted into a cheer and applause even more violent than before.
The fans weren't cheering for the three-pointer.
They were cheering for Kobe's screen.
That image was deeply etched into the heart of every Lakers fan.
It represented a passing of the torch.
More importantly, it represented sacrifice.
On the Timberwolves' attack, Rubio's pass was intercepted by Artest.
The Lakers launched a counterattack.
Lin Feng pushed forward quickly with the ball, with Koberunning alongside him.
Upon reaching the frontcourt, Kobe didn't stop outside the three-point line to wait for the ball; instead, like a blue-collar interior player, he plunged into the paint.
He used his not-so-strong body to firmly box out the Timberwolves' center, clearing a path for Lin Feng to drive.
Lin Feng didn't hesitate anymore, accelerated, drove straight to the rim, and scored a simple layup.
For the rest of the first half, the game entered a strange rhythm.
Kobe Bryant had completely turned into a "blue-collar player."
He ran tirelessly, setting screen after screen for Lin Feng.
He used his remaining energy and that court presence—enough to make any defender tremble—to draw the defense and create space for Lin Feng.
He was no longer the indestructible sharp blade.
He became a shield, standing in front of Lin Feng, absorbing all the damage for him.
Official timeout.
The Lakers players walked off the court.
Lin Feng was still in a state of surrealism; he looked at Kobe's chest heaving from heavy breathing, his throat feeling a bit dry.
He wanted to say something, but didn't know where to start.
"How does it feel?"
Kobe picked up a bottle of water and poured it over his head, his voice somewhat raspy.
"I..."
Lin Feng didn't know how to answer.
"Right now, you are the engine of this team."
Kobe interrupted him, his eyes shining frighteningly bright under the lights.
"Don't doubt yourself, do what you need to do."
"I've got your back."
Kobe's words were like a key, instantly unlocking the heavy shackles in Lin Feng's heart.
Scoring or playmaking?
A cancer or a leader?
Those contradictions and struggles that had tortured him into sleepless nights over the past five games vanished in this moment.
He understood.
Kobe was using his actions to tell him that a true leader doesn't choose between scoring and playmaking.
Instead, they use everything they have to win the game.
The second half began.
Lin Feng had changed.
There was no longer any confusion or hesitation in his eyes.
He still held the ball, but every decision was incredibly decisive.
If there was an opportunity, he used his Formless Shot to attack the basket directly, ignoring all defense.
When teammates were open, his passes were delivered instantly, without any hesitation.
The Lakers' offense came alive.
The ball moved fluidly, and everyone was involved.
Nick Young received a drive-and-kick from Lin Feng at the corner and hit an open three, excitedly performing his signature celebration.
Gasol received a lob pass from Lin Feng in the paint and scored an easy bank shot.
Howard also received an alley-oop pass and finished with a slam dunk.
Lin Feng had completely revitalized the entire team.
He was like a skilled conductor, perfectly blending all the instruments together to play a magnificent offensive movement.
And Kobe was the most silent yet most important timpani.
He just ran and drew attention on the court, occasionally hitting an open mid-range jumper, but his presence was the Lakers' greatest source of confidence.
The game reached the final minute.
The two sides were locked in a stalemate.
110 to 111.
The Lakers trailed by one point.
They held the final offensive possession.
D'Antoni didn't call a timeout.
Everyone knew who this ball should go to.
The ball, without surprise, was handed to Kobe.
He held the ball in the low post with his back to the basket, facing the Timberwolves' defensive specialist.
Kevin Love immediately abandoned his man and rushed over to double-team him.
Double-teamed!
Everyone in the Staples Center held their breath.
This was the classic Kobe moment.
Everyone thought Kobe would do what he had done countless times in the past—face the double-team and end the game with an unreasonable fadeaway jumper.
However.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, Kobe didn't force a shot.
He used an extremely exquisite behind-the-back pass; the basketball seemed to have eyes, passing through the gap between the two defenders to reach Lin Feng at the top of the arc.
Chapter 67: The Weight of Trust
The basketball landed firmly in Lin Feng's hands.
The sounds of the world vanished at that moment.
The shouts of eighteen thousand people in the Staples Center, the movements of his teammates, the hurried footsteps of the defenders—all were blocked out of his world.
Time seemed to slow down infinitely.
His brain, however, was operating at speeds exceeding the speed of light.
Kobe's raspy voice echoed in his ears.
"Now, you are the engine of this team."
"I'll carry the burden for you."
When Nash fell to the ground and was carried out on a stretcher, that roar he gave with all his strength also surfaced clearly.
"Win it!"
And then there was that damn five-game losing streak.
The overwhelming mockery from the media.
"Stat padder!"
"Team cancer!"
The fans at the Staples Center booing him for the first time.
Finally, the image froze on the locker room.
Nick Young's face, contorted with anger, his finger pointing straight at him.
"The ball is always in his hands! He only thinks about shooting it himself!"
These images, like frames of movie film, flashed back rapidly in his mind.
In reality, two Minnesota Timberwolves defenders were like two hungry wolves, opening their bloody maws and lunging crazily toward him.
They were blocking all his shooting space.
Their faces were written with determination.
They knew this was the Los Angeles Lakers' final attack.
They also knew that this shot would inevitably be finished by either Lin Feng or Kobe.
Since Kobe passed, they would smother Lin Feng!
Out of the corner of his eye, Lin Feng glanced at the left corner of the court.
Nick Young was standing there.
Because Love had rushed over to help defend Kobe and then followed the ball toward him, Nick Young's position was completely open.
Wide open space.
A massive opening where he could jump and shoot directly, or even take a moment to adjust his breathing.
Pass?
The thought appeared for only a split second.
Lin Feng's body had already subconsciously made the preparation for a shot.
He had Aomine Daiki's Unrestricted Shot.
He could shoot the ball from any posture, ignoring any defense.
The two people in front of him couldn't truly block him.
He had a sixty percent chance.
If he wanted to, he had more than a fifty-fifty chance of making this game-winner right in their faces!
At that point, he would be the hero who saved the team.
All the doubts and insults would vanish into thin air.
But... what then?
Win this one game, and then what?
Would the cracks in the team be mended?
Would Nick Young's complaints disappear?
Would he, as a "leader," truly be able to convince everyone?
No.
It wouldn't happen.
If he took the shot, it would only deepen the stereotype in his teammates' hearts that "he only trusts himself."
That crack would never heal.
He would forever be a lone hero, a stat padder.
At the critical moment.
Just before the defender's palm was about to cover his face.
Lin Feng made a decision that caused the commentators and all the fans in the Staples Center to experience a brain freeze.
He passed!
He actually passed the ball!
In the final moments of the game, at a time when he could have taken the shot himself and become a hero, he chose to pass!
That wasn't even the most shocking part.
The most shocking part was the way he passed!
Facing two defenders who were almost glued to him, he didn't choose a lob or a bounce pass through the gap.
With a flick of his wrist.
The basketball flew out from behind his back!
This wasn't an ordinary behind-the-back pass!
After leaving his fingers, the ball hit the floor with heavy spin.
Then, at an inconceivable angle, it zipped through the open legs of one of the defenders!
Behind the back!
A bounce pass!
A nutmeg!
This pass was full of imagination!
It was full of mockery for the defenders!
And even more so, it was full of that heavy weight of trust for his teammate!
"My God! What kind of pass was that?!"
On the TNT broadcast, Kenny Smith jumped straight out of his chair, his face full of disbelief.
"He... he actually passed the ball like that at a time like this? Is he crazy?!"
Charles Barkley's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit a basketball.
On the court.
The basketball was like a precision-guided bullet.
It bypassed all the blocks and avoided all the arms and long legs.
Accurately, it arrived at the left corner.
Nick Young was standing there.
He was completely stunned.
When Kobe passed the ball to Lin Feng, he had actually prepared himself mentally.
He was prepared to watch Lin Feng take that damn individualistic hero shot against the defense.
And then, either witness a miracle or lose the game together.
He hadn't even prepared to crash the boards for a rebound.
Because he knew the ball wouldn't be passed out again.
The past five games had proven that.
But.
The pass he thought would never happen came just like that.
And it came in a way that was as flashy as it was comfortable.
The ball arrived exactly where the man was.
He didn't even need to move half a step.
The height of the ball's bounce was exactly at his most comfortable shooting position.
The moment he caught the ball, he could shoot immediately.
Nick Young caught the ball.
He froze for a moment.
The warmth of Lin Feng's palm seemed to linger on the basketball.
It also seemed to carry a silent message.
"Nick, it's up to you."
At that moment, all the previous dissatisfaction, all the complaints, and all the anger disappeared.
In its place was a searing flame.
It burned fiercely in his chest!
This was trust!
From the team's core!
In the deciding moment of the game!
Unreserved trust!
He, Nick Young, wasn't just a player who could score during garbage time!
He could also be the hero who ended the game!
Fire ignited in Nick Young's eyes.
He did not betray that trust.
He did not waste that perfect pass.
He took a deep breath, filling his chest with air.
He adjusted his body posture to the most standard and comfortable state.
Legs bent, core tight.
Arms raised, wrist flicked.
With no one defending him, he calmly shot the basketball in his hands.
The ball left his fingertips.
Under the gaze of tens of thousands in the Staples Centerand the bright lights of the arena, it traced a high, beautiful arc.
On the sidelines, Kobe didn't look at the flying basketball.
His gaze remained fixed on Lin Feng.
When he saw Lin Feng make that choice to pass, the corners of his mouth curled upward.
It was an expression of relief from the bottom of his heart.
This kid finally understood.
Regardless of whether this shot went in or not, Lin Fenghad already made the choice that a true leader should make.
Time seemed to slow down.
Everyone held their breath.
The entire arena was so quiet that one could hear their own heartbeat.
That orange-yellow basketball spun in the air as if carrying the hopes of all of Los Angeles.
It passed the peak and began its descent.
Its target was straight for the hoop.
This shot would determine whether Lin Feng's choice would make him a god or a scapegoat.
Chapter 68: The Cold Rim
The orange basketball spun in the air.
It seemed to carry the hopes of all of Los Angeles.
It crossed its peak and began to descend.
Its target was aimed directly at the hoop.
Everyone thought the shot would go in.
Nick Young's shooting form was textbook.
There was no one in front of him.
This was the most comfortable shooting opportunity he had ever had in his career.
The trajectory of the ball also looked flawless.
Bang!
A dull thud echoed throughout the arena.
The basketball slammed heavily against the front of the rim.
The hearts of all Lakers fans twitched violently along with that impact.
The ball didn't fall in.
It bounced high into the air.
Above the rim, it spun and struggled.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely at this moment.
Everyone looked up, watching the ball that refused to drop.
Go in!
Go in already!
Countless people were screaming in their hearts.
The ball stagnated in the air for a split second.
Then, it chose the cruelest way.
It fell down.
It landed on the outside of the rim.
Clang!
A crisp, cold sound of iron hitting iron.
In the deathly silent Staples Center, it sounded exceptionally piercing.
That sound seemed to shatter everyone's hopes.
Beep—!
Almost at the same time, the red lights on the sidelines lit up, and the final buzzer emitted a sharp, long wail.
The game was over.
The final score was frozen on the big screen at Staples Center.
110 to 111.
The Los Angeles Lakers suffered a narrow defeat by just one point.
"Aaaah!"
Nick Young clutched his head and let out a painful roar.
He looked at the bouncing ball in disbelief.
On his face, there was first shock, then blankness, and finally, it all turned into endless regret and self-blame.
His legs went weak, and he knelt directly onto the cold floor.
He blew it.
He blew it.
He blew that perfect pass from Lin Feng.
He blew the opportunity Kobe had gambled his career for.
He blew the hopes of the entire team.
He was a sinner!
On the other side of the court, it was a completely different scene.
The Minnesota Timberwolves' bench completely erupted the moment the buzzer sounded.
All the players and coaches rushed onto the court like they were crazy.
They hugged each other, jumping and roaring frantically.
Kevin Love raised his arms and let out a long howl toward the sky.
Ricky Rubio excitedly tossed the basketball into the air.
Their celebration formed the sharpest and most cruel contrast with the deathly silence on the Lakers' side.
All the cameras were focused on the losers.
A close-up was given to Nick Young kneeling on the floor.
Like a child abandoned by the whole world, he pounded the floor painfully with his fists.
Another close-up was given to Lin Feng.
The broadcast camera seemed to want to capture an expression of anger, disappointment, or blame on his face.
But there was none.
Nothing at all.
Lin Feng just stood there calmly.
He didn't look at the kneeling Nick Young, nor at the wildly celebrating opponents.
His gaze fell on the glaring scoreboard.
110 to 111.
That number was like a needle pricking his heart.
But there was no expression on his face.
The online world completely exploded the moment the game ended.
Various sports forums and social media were instantly flooded with angry comments.
"Idiot! Why pass that ball?! Shoot it yourself!"
"I'm seriously gonna puke! Passing the ball to that moron Nick Young at the final moment? Was Lin Feng's head kicked by a donkey?!"
"Afraid to attack himself at the critical moment! This is the future leader you guys are hyping up? What a softie!"
"LMAO, he stat-padded for half the game and then didn't dare take responsibility at the end, dumping the blame on his teammate. What a pro move!"
"Lin Feng must take full responsibility for this loss! One hundred percent responsibility!"
Abuse and accusations flooded in like a tide.
That choice in the final second turned him from a 'hero' candidate directly into a'sinner.'
At the TNT broadcast table, the atmosphere was also solemn to the extreme.
"I can't understand... I really can't understand Lin Feng's final choice."
Kenny Smith shook his head, his face full of regret and confusion.
"He has the best scoring skills in the world, he can ignore defenses, he should have finished the game himself."
"But he chose to pass, passing it to the most unstable point on the team."
Charles Barkley sighed, his voice carrying undisguised criticism.
"This is a leader's wrong decision. When you have the ability to end the game, you must do it yourself."
"Placing hope on others, especially at a moment like this, is itself a form of cowardice."
"I've already thought of the headlines for the sports sections of all the newspapers tomorrow."
Barkley looked at the camera and said word by word.
"'The Fatal Pass: Lin Feng's Wrong Choice Buries Lakers' Playoff Hopes.'"
On the court.
The Lakers players recovered from the shock of the loss.
Gasol stepped forward and leaned down, wanting to pull the kneeling Nick Young up.
"Nick, get up, it's not your fault."
His voice was very gentle.
But Nick Young just shook his head, like a puppet, with no reaction.
Artest also walked over and patted Nick Young's shoulder.
Howard stood to the side, watching this scene, and irritably ripped off his headband.
No one knew how to comfort this teammate who had already collapsed.
The responsibility for the loss was like a mountain pressing down on Nick Young, making him unable to breathe.
Kobe stood not far away; he didn't speak.
His gaze bypassed everyone and landed on Lin Feng.
He saw Lin Feng's incredible pass.
He also saw Lin Feng's currently terrifyingly calm expression.
Others didn't understand.
But he did.
He knew why Lin Feng passed.
That ball wasn't passed to Nick Young; it was passed to the entire locker room.
Unfortunately, the God of Basketball wasn't on their side today.
The corner of Kobe's mouth curled into a bitter arc that no one noticed.
The road to becoming a leader is never smooth sailing.
Just as everyone was surrounding Nick Young, at a loss.
Just as the reporters on the scene were carrying their cameras, preparing to rush over and record this dramatic scene.
Lin Feng moved.
He stepped forward and walked through the crowd.
He didn't look at Gasol, nor did he pay attention to his other teammates.
He walked straight to the front of Nick Young.
Nick Young was still kneeling on the ground, his head buried deep between his arms, his whole body trembling slightly.
He didn't dare look up, didn't dare look at anyone.
He felt like he was the sinner of all Los Angeles.
Just as he was sinking into endless self-blame and despair.
A pair of sneakers appeared in his line of sight.
Immediately after, a hand reached out toward him.
That hand was slender and powerful.
Quietly, it hovered in front of him.
Chapter 69: Losing the Game, Winning the Future
That hand was long and powerful.
Quietly, it hovered in front of him.
Nick Young slowly raised his head, his vision blurred.
Tears and sweat mixed together, making it impossible to see the person in front of him clearly.
He only saw a silhouette, a figure that appeared exceptionally tall under the brilliant lights of the Staples Center.
He knew who it was.
Shame and regret, like a flood breaking through a dam, instantly swallowed him.
"Brother... my fault..."
His voice was hoarse, with a heavy nasal tone, full of self-loathing.
"I... I messed everything up..."
Lin Feng didn't speak.
He just used strength in his wrist and yanked Nick Young, who was still kneeling on the ground, up from the cold floor.
The force was so great that Nick Young stumbled, nearly failing to keep his footing.
"Slap!"
Lin Feng's hand slapped heavily onto Nick Young's shoulder, cutting off all the self-reproachful words that were to follow.
"No."
Lin Feng's voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly reached the ears of every teammate around them.
It also reached the recording equipment of the reporters who had already gathered at the sideline, ready to capture scenes of infighting within the Lakers.
"Lift your head up."
Nick Young subconsciously raised his head and met Lin Feng's eyes.
What kind of eyes were those?
No anger, no disappointment, not a single trace of blame.
Only calmness.
A calmness like a deep pool.
"That was a perfect open look."
Lin Feng looked into his eyes and said word by word.
"There was absolutely nothing wrong with your shot."
Nick Young was completely stunned.
He thought he would face a barrage of harsh scolding or an extremely cold face.
He never imagined that what awaited him would be such a sentence.
Lin Feng let go of his hand, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding Gasol, Artest, and Howard not far away.
Finally, his gaze seemed to penetrate space, looking at the reporters carrying cameras by the sideline.
He raised his volume.
"It was the right choice; that's how basketball should be played."
"We are a team. In the final moments, passing the ball to the teammate with the most open look is always the first choice."
"Always!"
His voice, through the broadcast signal, echoed in every corner of the Staples Center and also reached the ears of countless fans watching the live stream worldwide.
Lin Feng turned back again, looking at the completely dazed Nick Young.
His tone returned to calmness once more, yet it carried an unquestionable firmness.
"Next time."
"As long as you get open, I will still pass it to you without hesitation."
"And I believe you will definitely make it."
These words were like a scorching warm current, instantly breaking down all the defenses in Nick Young's heart.
He looked at Lin Feng's incredibly sincere face.
Looking at those eyes filled with trust.
This man, who was always joking around off the court and was jokingly called the "isolation king" by fans, saw his eyes turn red in an instant.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat felt like it was stuffed with a ball of cotton; he couldn't utter a single word.
He just nodded heavily.
At this moment, he was completely conquered.
Not because of Lin Feng's miraculous skills.
But because of this responsibility—choosing to believe in him even under the criticism of the masses.
The surrounding teammates were also shocked by this scene.
Gasol looked at Lin Feng, his eyes full of approval and relief.
He seemed to see his younger self, just starting out, being accepted and trusted by Kobe in the same way.
Chris Kaman, the veteran who had just joined the team, saw his gaze toward Lin Feng change completely.
It was a respect that came from the heart.
A first-year rookie, after losing a key game—and losing because of his own pass—not only didn't shift the blame to the Los Angeles Lakers but actively took all the responsibility on himself to protect the teammate who missed the shot.
This kind of poise and magnanimity was something he had only seen in truly great leaders.
Even the always unruly Howard, looking at Lin Feng's back now, had a complex look in his eyes.
This scene, through the camera lens, spread throughout the world.
At the TNT commentary desk.
Charles Barkley, who was just harshly criticizing Lin Feng's choice as a mistake, now sat with his mouth open, unable to say a word for a long time.
On the screen, a replay was showing Lin Feng pulling Nick Young up and then saying those words to the camera.
"This..."
Kenny Smith was also at a loss for words.
He had prepared a belly full of criticism and analysis, but at this moment, they felt incredibly pale.
From a tactical level, they could criticize Lin Feng's choice as not being "superstar" enough.
But from a leadership level, they could not blame this young man.
Because what he did was more like a leader than a superstar.
Barkley looked at Lin Feng's calm face on the screen, and after a long time, he finally sighed.
"Alright, I take back what I just said."
"Perhaps... I need to change my prediction about the newspaper headlines."
...In the player tunnel leading to the locker room, the atmosphere remained heavy.
The shadow of the loss loomed over everyone's heart.
A six-game losing streak.
This number was like a giant boulder, weighing people down until they couldn't breathe.
The players walked silently; no one spoke.
Nick Young followed behind Lin Feng, wanting to speak several times but not knowing what to say.
In the locker room, there was a deathly silence.
Everyone sat in their seats, heads bowed, the air so oppressive it was suffocating.
D'Antoni stood in front of the tactical board, his face ashen, not saying a word.
Just then.
Kobe broke the silence.
He slowly stood up from his seat and walked to the center of the locker room.
Everyone raised their heads.
Kobe's gaze didn't look at anyone else; it fell straight onto Lin Feng.
He walked up to Lin Feng and stood still.
"Even though we lost tonight."
Kobe's voice was hoarse, but every word was like a hammer striking everyone's heart.
"I saw something more important than a victory."
His gaze swept across the whole team, from Gasol to Howard, then to Nick Young.
Finally, his gaze returned to Lin Feng.
In those eyes that once were filled with killer instinct, there was now a rare light mixed with admiration and recognition.
"Lin."
Kobe looked at him, and in front of all the coaches and players, he said word by word.
"You made the choice that a true leader should make."
"From today on."
Kobe emphasized his tone.
"You, are the on-court captain of this team."
These words were like a bomb dropped into a calm lake.
In the entire locker room, everyone was shocked.
D'Antoni looked at Kobe in disbelief.
Gasol's face was written with surprise.
Howard's pupils visibly contracted.
on-court captain!
This wasn't just a title.
It meant that in the critical moments of a game, he held the highest tactical decision-making power.
It meant that Kobe Bryant, the absolute monarch of the Lakers for twenty years, was willing to hand over a portion of his authority into the hands of this first-year rookie.
What kind of trust was this!
What kind of recognition!
Although Lin Feng lost the game tonight.
On this night, with a fateful pass and the responsibility he took afterward, he truly won the soul of this team.
He won the future of this team.
Despite gaining the conviction of his teammates and the recognition of his idol, the bitterness of defeat still lingered in Lin Feng's heart.
He sat in front of his locker, his mind constantly replaying the shot Nick Young had taken.
The image of the basketball hitting the front of the rim, over and over again.
He suddenly realized a cruel reality.
Just making the right choice wasn't enough.
In this league, the right choice doesn't necessarily bring victory.
He needed a power that could better control the outcome.
A type of ability that could "foresee" the future.
His desire for Seijuro Akashi's Eye of the Heavenly Emperor reached an unprecedented peak at this moment.
Chapter 70: Eye of Desire
Kobe's voice still echoed in the locker room.
"You are the on-court captain of this team."
This sentence was like a bomb dropped into a calm lake.
The entire locker room was stunned.
D'Antoni looked at Kobe in disbelief.
Gasol's face was filled with surprise.
Howard's pupils visibly contracted.
On-court captain!
This was more than just a title.
It meant having the highest tactical decision-making authority during critical moments of the game.
It meant that Kobe Bryant, the absolute monarch of the Los Angeles Lakers for twenty years, was willing to hand over a portion of his authority to this rookie.
What immense trust!
What profound recognition!
Although Lin Feng lost tonight's game.
Yet, tonight, through a critical pass and his accountability after the game, he truly won the soul of this team.
He won the future of this team.
Despite gaining the trust of his teammates and the recognition of his idol, the bitterness of failure still lingered in Lin Feng's heart.
He sat in front of his locker, his mind constantly replaying the shot Nick Young took.
The image of the ball hitting the front rim repeated over and over again.
He suddenly realized a cruel truth.
Just making the right choice wasn't enough.
In this league, the right choice doesn't necessarily guarantee victory.
He needed a power that could better control the outcome.
An ability to "foresee" the future.
His desire for the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor of Seijuro Akashi reached an unprecedented peak at this moment... Late at night.
Lin Feng returned to his apartment in downtown Los Angeles.
He didn't turn on the lights and walked straight into the living room.
On the living room wall hung a huge tactical board, marked with different colored magnets representing the Lakers players and their tactical movements.
He had custom-ordered it at great expense, a perfect replica of the one in the team's training facility.
Illuminated by the city neon filtering through the window, Lin Feng stood alone before the tactical board.
He reached out and arranged the magnets representing the players into their positions during the final thirty seconds of the game.
Kobe was double-teamed in the low post.
He was positioned at the top of the arc.
Nick Young was completely left open in the left corner.
He picked up the small magnet representing the basketball, paused it over Kobe's spot, and then moved it to his own position.
Next, simulating the behind-the-back bounce pass, he drew a strange arc with the small magnet and placed it precisely on Nick Young's position.
A perfect tactical choice.
A textbook-level shared pass.
He ran through the entire sequence on the tactical board no fewer than ten times.
The result was the same every time.
The pass was the most reasonable, and highest percentage, choice at the time.
But they lost.
Lin Feng stared at the tactical board, a deep sense of powerlessness spreading from the bottom of his heart.
He realized that even if he possessed a God's perspective, capable of discerning every opportunity on the court.
Even if he could deliver the most exquisite pass in the world.
He still couldn't control the trajectory of the ball after it left his teammate's fingertips.
He couldn't control his teammate's mental state, the tension in their muscles, or the slight tremor in their wrist at that precise moment.
This feeling made him extremely uncomfortable.
It was like a designer of a precision instrument drawing perfect blueprints, yet being unable to control whether the factory processing the parts would introduce that one-in-a-thousand error.
And that one-in-a-thousand error was enough to cause the entire project to fail.
He didn't want this kind of "reasonableness."
He didn't just want to make a "reasonable" choice.
He wanted to make the "only correct" choice, the one that would ultimately lead to victory!
If, at that moment, he could have "seen" that Nick Young's state of mind had fluctuated due to nervousness.
If he could have "foreseen" that Nick Young's shot would be slightly short due to muscle stiffness.
Would he still have made that pass?
No!
He would have chosen to take the shot himself without hesitation!
He needed a pair of eyes.
A pair of eyes that could see through every detail on the court.
A pair of eyes that could perceive the muscle exertion of teammates and opponents, and their psychological and emotional fluctuations.
A pair of eyes that could see through the future!
"System."
Lin Feng muttered silently in his mind.
A pale blue light screen, visible only to him, unfolded before his eyes.
He skillfully scrolled past the unlocked skills, his gaze locking directly onto the very top of the skill tree.
The icon, still gray, representing the supreme ability.
[Seijuro Akashi's Eye of the Heavenly Emperor]
Skill Description: Can see through everything about the opponent, including all details such as breathing, heart rate, sweating, and muscle contraction, thereby seeing through the opponent's next move and foreseeing the future. On offense, defensive gaps can be easily found; on defense, the opponent can be rendered immobile single-handedly.
Lin Feng's breathing became slightly rapid.
This was it!
This was exactly what he needed right now!
His finger tapped the gray icon.
A line of cold text appeared on the light screen.
[Unlock Condition: Complete a deep intimate link with ss-rank charm target 'Scarlett Johansson'.]
Scarlett Johansson.
The woman who discussed "brokenness and rebirth" with him in the gallery.
The Hollywood superstar with fatal charm, renowned as "the world's sexiest woman."
Looking at the "ss-rank" evaluation, Lin Feng's mind flashed with Scarlett's emerald green eyes that seemed to see through people, and the playful smile on her lips.
Previously, he had approached conquering "Black Widow" with a go-with-the-flow attitude.
But now, the humiliation of six straight losses and the extreme thirst for victory completely crushed the last hint of hesitation in his heart.
He no longer hesitated.
He immediately took out his phone and found the number saved only as "S.J." in his contacts.
His long fingers quickly tapped on the screen.
"I want to visit your gallery right now and appreciate those 'broken artworks'."
The message was sent.
Lin Feng held his phone, waiting.
He didn't know if Scarlett would reply, as it was already late at night.
"Ding."
Almost the instant the thought crossed his mind, the phone screen lit up.
Instant reply.
The sender was indeed "S.J.".
"The Malibu night is waiting for a frustrated artist. My address is..."
A detailed address on Malibu Beach was attached below.
Lin Feng looked at the text message, and his heart rate sped up.
He knew that the so-called "gallery" was just an excuse.
The so-called "broken artwork" referred to himself.
This was an invitation.
An undisguised invitation sent late at night.
Lin Feng grabbed the car keys from the sofa, didn't hesitate for a moment, and turned to leave.
Just as his hand was about to touch the doorknob.
"Ring ring ring..."
The phone suddenly rang in the quiet apartment.
The name on the caller ID made Lin Feng pause.
Taylor Swift.
It was Taylor Swift.
He hesitated for a moment but answered the call.
"Lin?"
Taylor's voice, filled with deep concern and a hint of tiredness, came from the other end of the line.
"Honey, I watched the game. That wasn't your fault."
Her voice was gentle, as if carrying healing power.
"Your pass was brilliant, truly. That guy messed it up. Don't blame yourself for the loss."
"Come over. I just wrote a new song about a misunderstood hero... Maybe it can help heal you."
Taylor's words flowed like a warm current through Lin Feng's heart.
On a night when everyone else was blaming him for making the wrong choice, Taylor's understanding and support felt especially precious.
Lin Feng felt a warmth in his heart.
But he knew exactly what he needed tonight.
He didn't need comfort, nor healing.
He needed power.
The power to control everything, to seize destiny by the throat.
"Thank you, Taylor."
Lin Feng's voice also softened, yet carried a sense of undeniable distance.
"Thank you for the song, but right now... I need to face my 'brokenness' alone."
The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds.
"Alright." A trace of undetectable disappointment was in Taylor's voice. "Take care of yourself, Lin."
"You too."
Hanging up the phone, Lin Feng put his cell phone in his pocket and didn't linger any longer.
He opened the door and walked out quickly.
He drove his aston martin, speeding down the empty Highway 1.
Outside the car window was the deep, boundless night of the Pacific Ocean, with waves crashing against the shore, emitting a low roar.
Lin Feng's gaze, however, was firmer than the night and deeper than the ocean.
Chapter 71: Undercurrents of the Shura Field
Lin Feng drove his aston martin, speeding along the empty California Highway 1.
Outside the car window was the deep, boundless night of the Pacific Ocean; the waves crashed against the shore, emitting a low roar.
Lin Feng's gaze, however, was firmer than the night and deeper than the sea.
He had just hung up the phone with Taylor.
That girl's kindness and comfort were like warm sunshine in winter, but he didn't need warmth right now.
What he needed was a sharp blade that could pierce through the darkness.
Images of the loss, Kobe's voice appointing him as captain, and his teammates' shocked or convinced gazes intertwined in his mind like a complex tapestry.
Responsibility.
Trust.
And the shame of defeat.
All of this transformed into a scorching motivation, driving him forward and making it impossible for him to stop.
He needed power.
He needed the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor.
Just then.
"Buzz..."
The phone on the center console suddenly lit up, vibrating slightly.
It wasn't a call, nor was it a text.
It was an automated entertainment news push.
Lin Feng's eyes inadvertently swept over it.
In the next second, his hand on the steering wheel couldn't help but tighten.
[K-POP Supergroup "Starlight Girls" Announces First North American Tour, First Stop Los Angeles!]
The news headline occupied the screen prominently in bold font.
Below the headline was a massive promotional poster.
On the poster, several youthful and beautiful girls were posing, and standing right in the center, in the most eye-catching position, was Yinna.
In the photo, she wore a glittering stage outfit, her makeup was exquisite, her gaze cool, radiating the powerful aura of a national goddess.
She was a completely different person from the soft girl who would blush over small things and cautiously seek protection in his arms.
Yinna... was coming to Los Angeles.
This thought immediately popped into Lin Feng's head.
Immediately after, he felt a slight headache.
A Taylor Swift was already enough to make his life full of uncertainties.
Now, Yinna was also about to descend upon this city.
One was as passionate as fire, the other as pure as water.
One saw him as an inspirational muse, the other relied on him for everything.
If these two met... Lin Feng's mind even began to preview a scene comparable to a nuclear blast site.
"Really... it's getting more and more chaotic."
He couldn't help but complain to himself.
His backyard was about to upgrade from a single-front operation to a double-front crossfire.
However, this irritable mood only lasted for a few seconds.
He quickly forced these stray thoughts out of his mind.
Romantic entanglements and Shura fields could wait.
Right now, nothing was more important than victory.
Nothing was more important than leading the Los Angeles Lakers out of the mire and responding to Kobe's trust.
And to achieve all of this, the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor was an indispensable piece.
The urgent priority was to handle Scarlett Johansson.
As long as he could unlock that skill, he was confident he could make all his opponents taste the bitterness of despair.
Lin Feng's gaze became focused again, and he pressed the accelerator a bit deeper.
The aston martin roared, turning into a silver bolt of lightning that disappeared at the end of the coastal highway... Half an hour later, the sports car left the main road and entered a heavily guarded private villa area in Malibu.
At the entrance guardhouse, a security guard in a black suit stopped the car.
Lin Feng rolled down the window.
The security guard leaned in, saw the divine Eastern face in the driver's seat, froze for a moment, and then whispered something into his walkie-talkie to confirm.
A moment later, he stood up straight and gave Lin Feng a standard gesture.
"Good evening, Mr. Lin. Ms. Johansson is waiting for you."
The automatic barrier slowly rose.
Lin Feng nodded and drove in.
Each villa here was spaced far apart, hidden within meticulously designed gardens, offering absolute privacy.
Following the address Scarlett had sent, Lin Feng parked the car in front of a villa built almost on the edge of a cliff.
The villa's style was full of modern artistic flair, with large areas of floor-to-ceiling glass and steel structural lines glowing with warm lights in the night, like a box of light suspended in mid-air.
From here, one could overlook the magnificent night view of the entire Pacific Ocean.
Lin Feng turned off the engine and pushed the door open to get out.
The sea breeze blew against him with a slightly salty scent, fluttering the hem of his clothes.
The villa door slid open silently before him.
A figure was standing gracefully at the doorway.
Scarlett Johansson.
She had changed out of her professional suit and was wearing a well-tailored black silk gown.
The gown outlined the perfect curves that drove men all over the world crazy, and her exposed skin glowed white under the lights.
A lazy and charming smile played on her face, and her emerald eyes seemed to sparkle with a different kind of light in the night.
Behind her was not the gallery Lin Feng had imagined.
Instead, it was a wide terrace.
Beyond the terrace was the boundless starry sky and the black sea bathed in moonlight.
"Welcome, my frustrated artist."
Scarlett Johansson's voice had a hint of magnetism and just the right amount of teasing.
"Where's the gallery?"
Lin Feng walked over, his gaze passing her to look at the magnificent scenery.
Scarlett smiled.
She stepped aside, clearing the path, and made an inviting gesture.
"The gallery is too small."
Her voice drifted away in the sea breeze.
"It can't hold tonight's nightscape, nor can it hold the stories you carry."
Lin Feng entered the villa.
Scarlett didn't take him to the living room but led him directly through the massive glass doors onto the terrace.
In the center of the terrace sat a small round table and two chairs.
On the table, a bottle of already breathed red wine and two crystal glasses reflected the brilliant light under the moon.
Scarlett picked up the bottle and poured a glass for Lin Feng.
The crimson liquid swirled gently in the glass, like flowing rubies.
She handed the glass to Lin Feng.
"Taste this."
Her fingertips, intentionally or not, lightly brushed the back of his hand as he took the glass.
The touch was like a feather, yet carried a hint of an electric current.
"1982 Lafite."
Scarlett looked into his eyes, the smile at the corners of her mouth deepening.
"They say one can taste the flavor of time in it."
Lin Feng took the glass; the coldness of the glass wall formed a sharp contrast with the warmth of her fingertips.
He looked at the tempting red in the glass.
He knew this glass of wine was the prelude to tonight's 'deep exchange.'
He knew even better that the woman before him was far more dangerous and more tempting than this famous wine.
He had come here with the mindset of a hunter, intending to capture the prey he wanted.
But at this moment, standing before this Hollywood queen and looking into her eyes that seemed capable of seeing through everything.
Lin Feng suddenly felt that he was the one being scrutinized, the prey being led step by step into a trap.
Chapter 72: The Art Museum in Malibu
Lin Feng took the wine glass. The icy coldness of the glass wall contrasted sharply with the warmth of her fingertips.
He looked at the alluring red liquid in the glass.
He knew that this glass of wine was the prelude to tonight's "deep communication."
He knew even more that the woman before him was far more dangerous and alluring than this fine wine.
He had originally come here with the mindset of a hunter, intending to acquire his desired prey.
Yet, at this moment, standing before this Hollywood Queen, looking into her eyes that seemed to see through everything...
Lin Feng suddenly felt that he was the prey being scrutinized and slowly led into a trap.
He swirled the wine glass, and the crimson liquid left beautiful arcs along the glass wall.
"The taste of time?"
Lin Feng's gaze shifted from the wine glass to Scarlett's face, a slight curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.
"I thought that Ms. Johansson's gallery would collect more tangible works of art."
This was a test.
And a counterattack.
He was reminding her, and himself, that tonight's theme was "gallery" and "artwork."
How could Scarlett not understand the meaning behind his words?
She let out a soft laugh. Her voice, slightly ethereal due to the sea breeze, carried a unique charm.
"Of course there are works of art."
Instead of taking him to see any physical paintings, she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him at the railing of the terrace, gazing out at the dark sea in the distance.
The sea breeze ruffled her long dress and stirred Lin Feng's clothes, creating a quiet and ambiguous atmosphere.
"It's just that the art here isn't meant to be looked at."
Scarlett also raised her glass, but instead of drinking, she merely swirled the wine gently.
"They need to be felt and experienced with the heart."
Her gaze turned to Lin Feng. Her emerald eyes, under the moonlight, looked like two bottomless gems.
"Just like movies, just like acting."
She naturally steered the conversation toward her own field.
"Do you know what the most important quality of a good actor is?"
Scarlett asked suddenly, swirling her glass.
This question took Lin Feng by surprise.
He thought she would continue to test him with suggestive and provocative remarks.
He didn't expect her to talk about her profession.
Lin Feng pondered for a moment.
"Empathy?"
He gave what he considered the most standard answer.
Only by empathizing with a character can an actor bring that character to life.
After listening, Scarlett slowly shook her head.
"No."
Her answer was crisp and decisive.
"Empathy is just the foundation, the entry ticket. But what truly allows an actor to reach the top is not empathy."
She brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip. The crimson liquid made her lips look even fuller and more alluring.
"It's foresight."
"Foresight?"
Lin Feng's brow furrowed slightly; this word struck a chord within him.
"That's right, foresight."
Scarlett put down her glass, leaned slightly forward against the railing, and the sea breeze carried her unique scent into Lin Feng's nostrils.
"In front of the camera, you have to anticipate your co-actor's next line, what kind of emotion he'll use, what kind of action he'll take."
"You have to anticipate the angle the camera will cut to, and how the lighting will fall on your face."
"You must also anticipate when the audience sitting in the cinema will feel tense, when they will cry, and when they will laugh."
She turned her head and looked at Lin Feng, her eyes growing sharp.
"Acting is never just a simple emotional release."
"It is a carefully planned psychological game targeting everyone, including yourself."
"And top actors are the most skilled players in this game."
Every word from Scarlett was like a bullet, accurately piercing Lin Feng's mind.
Lin Feng's heart trembled.
Foresight!
Psychological game!
These words, his desire for basketball games, and his pursuit of the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor, unexpectedly coincided!
He had always thought that the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor was about seeing through an opponent's movements.
But after listening to Scarlett, he suddenly realized.
It wasn't just about seeing through movements.
It was about seeing through the intentions behind the movements, the psychology behind the intentions, and even anticipating the opponent's next psychological shift, and the one after that!
This was true control of the entire court!
Scarlett seemed to see through his thoughts, and a hint of amusement appeared in the smile on her lips.
She continued.
"I watched your game tonight."
"Your skill and your physical talent are both top-tier. There's no doubt about that."
Her tone shifted.
"But..."
"You seem to... lack this 'foresight' ability."
"You are like a Chicago Bulls charging into a china shop—brave, powerful, and capable of destroying everything in front of you."
"But you can't see the layout of the entire room, you don't know which piece is the most precious antique and which is just a cheap imitation."
"You are more like a lion hunting on the savanna, possessing unparalleled strength."
"Yet you can't see the overall pattern of the savanna, you can't see the direction of the wind, nor can you see the pack of hyenas silently approaching in the distance."
Every word she spoke was like a sharp scalpel, precisely cutting through Lin Feng's skin, poking at his deepest, most painful spot.
The humiliation of six consecutive losses.
The helplessness of turnover mistakes.
The confusion regarding the overall picture of victory.
At this moment, this woman exposed it all in a manner so calm it was nearly cruel.
Lin Feng did not refute her.
Because everything she said was the truth.
The knuckles of the hand gripping the wine glass were white from exertion.
Scarlett took in his reaction completely, and a hint of subtle admiration flashed in her emerald eyes.
She enjoyed this feeling.
The feeling of having the most vulnerable side of a powerful man completely under her control.
She suddenly changed the subject, and her question became more direct and personal.
"Why were you in such a hurry to see me?"
Her voice dropped slightly, carrying a captivating magic.
"Just because you lost a game?"
"Or is it that you, a frustrated artist, urgently need a new muse to find inspiration after being broken?"
Her question was baited.
If Lin Feng answered yes, it would confirm that he was a weakling crushed by failure and desperate for comfort.
Everything that followed would then be dominated by her.
Lin Feng was silent for a moment.
Instead of looking into Scarlett's probing eyes, he drained the remaining red wine in his glass.
The pungent liquid slid down his throat, bringing a burst of heat.
He set down the empty glass with a soft 'clink.'
Then, he turned around, looking into her eyes for the first time, truly honestly, and without reservation.
"Because I realized."
His voice was calm, yet carried an unprecedented determination.
"I can only see the hoop."
"But I cannot see the whole picture of victory."
There was no pretense, no justification.
Only the rawest, most genuine desire.
Hearing this answer, Scarlett was clearly stunned for a moment.
She had anticipated many kinds of answers—bravado, flirting, or feigned seriousness.
But she never expected a statement that essentially laid bare his ambition.
Immediately after, she smiled.
It was the appreciation of meeting a worthy opponent, the joy of finding a kindred spirit.
The sharpness and probing in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by a hazy yet dangerous glow.
She proactively took a step closer to Lin Feng.
The distance between them instantly closed to just a breath apart.
Lin Feng could even smell the captivating scent emanating from her hair, a mixture of red wine and perfume.
"Sometimes..."
Scarlett's voice was as soft as a whisper in a dream, yet it clearly entered Lin Feng's ears.
"To see more clearly, you need to close your eyes first."
"And feel with your heart."
Chapter 73: Vision of the Heart
"Sometimes..."
Scarlett's voice was as soft as a dreamlike murmur, yet it entered Lin Feng's ears with clarity.
"If you want to see more clearly, you must first close your eyes."
"Feel it with your heart."
The moment she finished speaking, she reached out a slender finger, its tip carrying a hint of coolness, and lightly tapped Lin Feng's temple.
"Your problem isn't technical; it's 'here'."
Her voice possessed a peculiar magnetism, as if it could penetrate his skull and directly touch his thoughts.
Lin Feng's body stiffened involuntarily.
He could feel the coolness of her fingertip, the warmth emanating from her body, and even more so, the blatant aggression in her emerald green eyes.
This woman was teaching him how to do things.
Yet, he couldn't refute her.
Because every word she spoke struck the deepest chords of his inner desires and confusion.
Scarlett withdrew her finger, the smile at the corner of her mouth deepening.
She turned and walked toward the interior of the villa.
"Come in. My real gallery isn't out here."
Lin Feng followed behind her, stepping into this box of light perched on the cliff.
The interior decor was minimalist yet luxurious.
There were no superfluous decorations; every piece of furniture was like a work of art, with fluid lines and a sense of design.
The walls were pure white, adorned with several massive paintings.
These paintings lacked any concrete forms, composed entirely of various chaotic blocks of color and wild lines.
Although Lin Feng didn't understand modern art, he could feel the overwhelming aura of immense value emanating from them.
Scarlett stopped in front of a painting.
It was a painting dominated by dark red and black tones, with countless twisted lines intertwined, interspersed with a few flashes of blindingly bright yellow, like a struggle in the dark.
The entire painting exuded a sense of oppression and mania.
"What do you see in this painting?"
Scarlett didn't introduce the artist or the background; she directly questioned Lin Feng.
Lin Feng looked at the painting, his mind racing.
He tried to analyze the composition, the use of color, and the movement it might belong to from an art history perspective.
"From a compositional standpoint, it breaks traditional balance, using irregular lines to create a sense of turbulence. Color-wise, the contrast of red and black symbolizes conflict and..."
"Stop."
Scarlett interrupted him, her voice carrying a trace of unquestionable decisiveness.
She shook her head, a hint of disappointment appearing on her face.
"I'm not testing your knowledge of art theory, Lin."
"Don't look with your brain. Use your eyes, feel it with your heart."
Her voice softened, becoming full of guidance.
"Forget the composition, the colors, the movements."
"Just look at it. What does it make you think of? Anger, joy, or... chaos?"
Chaos?
This word was like a key, instantly flipping a switch in Lin Feng's mind.
He followed Scarlett's guidance and closed his eyes.
Those chaotic blocks of color and lines reassembled in his mind.
They were no longer a painting.
They became a crowded arena, a boisterous sea of voices.
The dark red and black were the opponents' jerseys, the airtight double-teams, the cage that trapped him tightly.
And those flashes of blindingly bright yellow... were the fleeting gaps he was desperately searching for, the opportunities his teammates created by running.
Everything was twisting and intertwining, full of uncertainty.
He saw himself being double-teamed by two people, his passing lanes completely blocked.
He saw Howard pinned down by the opposing center in the paint, unable to move.
He saw Gasol facilitating from the high post, but his passing lane was anticipated by the opponent.
Finally, he saw Nick Young completely wide open in the corner.
That was the most rational, and the only rational choice.
Then, the basketball left his hand, tracing an arc he couldn't control.
Finally, there was that crisp sound of the ball hitting the front of the rim.
Failure.
Chaos.
Desperately searching for a sliver of order within the disordered chaos, only to be ultimately swallowed by it.
Lin Feng snapped his eyes open, his breathing somewhat hurried.
He looked at the painting again, his gaze completely transformed.
"It's chaos."
He spoke slowly, his voice a bit raspy.
"And the desire to find order within that chaos."
Hearing this answer, the disappointment on Scarlett's face was instantly replaced by surprise and appreciation.
She smiled with satisfaction.
"It seems you understand art better than I imagined."
This answer moved her more than any analysis of art theory.
Because this was Lin Feng's own feeling, something he had dug out from the depths of his soul.
The night grew deeper and deeper.
From outside the terrace, the sound of the waves came in waves, like the breathing of the earth.
The two didn't return to the terrace; instead, they sat casually on the floor in this art-filled living room.
That bottle of '82 Lafite was treated like an ordinary drink.
They started talking from that painting, discussing chaos and order.
From chaos and order, they moved on to acting and basketball.
"So, the anticipation you mentioned is about finding that singular order within this chaos in advance?"
Lin Feng raised his glass, seeking guidance from this Hollywood queen.
"Not exactly."
Scarlett shook her head. The alcohol brought a charming flush to her cheeks, yet her eyes remained clear.
"Sometimes, order isn't found; it's created."
"Created?"
"Yes," Scarlett said, looking at him. "When a top-tier actor gets a script, they don't think about how to play the role well. They think about how to make that character the absolute core of the entire play, making everyone's emotions follow their rhythm."
"He'll use a single look to make his opponent forget their lines."
"He'll use a pause to make the director reluctant to call 'cut'."
"He'll use an ad-libbed line to change the entire direction of the script for himself."
"He's not searching for order; he's using his performance to forcibly create a new order that belongs only to him."
Scarlett's words sent a massive shock through Lin Feng's mind.
Creating order!
This was more domineering and more captivating than seeing through the future!
On the court, if he could do the same... using his own rhythm to forcibly disrupt the opponent's defensive deployment.
Using a fake to completely collapse the opponent's help defense system.
Using a drive to create open opportunities for his teammates that they hadn't even imagined themselves!
That was true control of the game!
"I understand."
Lin Feng murmured to himself, an unprecedented fire burning in his eyes.
Scarlett watched him as he was set ablaze, the smile at the corner of her mouth becoming even more charming.
She knew the fish had completely taken the bait.
No, perhaps both of them were each other's prey.
In this moment, their souls resonated at an unprecedented level.
Both were monomaniacs in their respective fields, lunatics with an extreme desire for victory and control.
Scarlett stood up and reached out her hand to Lin Feng.
"My gallery has one last exhibition hall."
Her voice sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet living room.
Lin Feng didn't hesitate and took her hand.
Her palm was warm and soft.
Scarlett led him through the living room and into the master bedroom.
The lights were off.
One entire wall of the bedroom was a massive floor-to-ceiling glass window.
Outside the window were the star-filled sky and the boundless black sea bathed in moonlight.
The stars and the sea seemed within reach.
This was her most precious and most private art gallery.
Under the catalysis of alcohol and the atmosphere, Lin Feng cast aside all distracting thoughts.
The Los Angeles Lakers' six-game losing streak, Kobe's trust, Taylor's comfort, the news of Yinna's imminent arrival... everything was pushed to the back of his mind in this moment.
He looked at the lethally charming woman before him, into those emerald green eyes that seemed capable of devouring everything.
Chapter 74: Emperor's Eye, Activate!
Lin Feng looked at the fatally charming woman before him, gazing into those emerald eyes that seemed capable of swallowing everything.
He didn't speak.
She didn't speak either.
At this moment, any words would be redundant.
They were of the same kind.
Paranoiacs who craved control over everything.
This psychological game that began in the art gallery had reached its final stage.
Scarlett, the woman who had conquered the world on the silver screen, was also a top-tier player in reality.
Step by step, she had guided and tested him, completely peeling away the deepest ambitions and vulnerabilities in Lin Feng's heart, exposing them to her.
And Lin Feng had responded to all her provocations in the most candid way.
He didn't hide his thirst for power, nor did he hide his paranoia for victory.
This was a dangerous resonance.
Like two magnets, after testing each other, they finally found the most perfect point of alignment, then attracted and collided with reckless abandon.
No lights were on in the bedroom.
Only the starlight filling the sky and the moonlight drenching the sea filtered through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, coating the room in a hazy, cold glow.
The sound of the waves became the only background music.
Sometimes low and deep, sometimes high and soaring.
In this ultimate collision of spirit and flesh, at the peak where this hunting game called "artistic exchange" was finally decided.
The system notification Lin Feng had been waiting for finally sounded in his mind without warning!
[Ding!]
[Detected that the host has completed a deep intimate connection with the ss-rank charm target 'Scarlett Johansson'!]
It's here!
Lin Feng's heart gave a violent, uncontrollable throb.
He forcibly suppressed his inner ecstasy and waited for the system's subsequent announcement.
[Congratulations to the host for completing the third 'first night achievement'!]
[Distributing SSS-rank reward for you...]
SSS-rank!
A higher grade than the previous two rewards!
Lin Feng's breath couldn't help but hitch for half a second.
In the next second, that cold mechanical voice echoed in his mind with a majesty that sounded like a divine oracle!
[Reward SSS-rank skill pack: Seijuro Akashi's Eye of the Heavenly Emperor!]
Boom!
The moment those words appeared.
A cool, omniscient feeling, like a torrent of the purest energy, instantly surged from the very base of his spine, along his central nervous system, and into his brain!
That feeling was indescribable.
It was as if his entire brain had been formatted and then written with a brand-new, higher-dimensional operating system.
Before his eyes, the entire world seemed to be completely deconstructed at this moment.
Air was no longer a void.
He could "see" countless dust particles floating slowly in the light, following fixed airflow trajectories.
Sound was no longer blurry.
He could "hear" every tiny splash of water as the waves crashed against the rocks below, and he could distinguish the millisecond intervals between them.
His consciousness seemed to break free from the shackles of his physical body, floating into mid-air, looking down on everything from a God's perspective.
He had his eyes closed.
Yet he could even clearly "see" a seagull that had just skimmed over the sea in the distance outside the window.
He saw the trajectory of the seagull's wing muscles as they exerted force in the next second.
He saw how that trajectory drove the feathers to slice through the air at a specific angle.
He could even "predict" that in 0.3 seconds, the seagull would use an updraft to lift its body twenty centimeters.
Everything had turned into data that could be calculated and predicted!
This is... the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor?
Lin Feng slowly opened his eyes.
His gaze fell upon Scarlett, who was already fast asleep beside him.
In the vision of the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor, this woman who had just been engaged in a soul-level game of wits with him turned into sets of terrifyingly precise data streams.
[Target: Scarlett Johansson]
[Status: Deep Sleep (Stage 2)]
[Breathing Frequency: 15.8 times/minute]
[Heart Rate: 61 bpm (Predicted heart rhythm for the next second: Steady)]
[Eye Movement: None]
[Facial Muscle Relaxation: 97%]
[Conclusion: Target's consciousness is completely asleep, perception of external stimuli is extremely low.]
...Lines of data invisible to the naked eye flashed wildly in Lin Feng's field of vision.
He could clearly "see" her steady breathing rate.
He could accurately "hear" the rhythm of her every heartbeat.
He could even "predict" through the slightest degree of relaxation in her facial muscles that she was in the most stable state of deep sleep and wouldn't wake up anytime soon.
This feeling... this feeling of seeing through everything and having everything under control!
It gave Lin Feng an unprecedented sense of shock and power!
This was no longer simple visual enhancement.
This was a higher-dimensional perception!
It was an imperial vision that could see through appearances to the essence and even predict the future!
He finally understood what Scarlett meant by "prediction."
True prediction wasn't guessing or gambling.
It was the only inevitable result derived from absolute control over every detail!
"So... this is what it truly means to control the whole court."
Lin Feng murmured to himself.
In his eyes, a fire never seen before was burning.
With these eyes, nothing on the court would be a secret to him anymore!
Every breath of his opponent, every muscle tremor, every exchange of glances would become the basis for him to predict their next move!
He would be able to see the weakest link in the defensive system!
He would be able to see the open spots his teammates ran to that even they hadn't noticed!
He would be able to see the only path to victory!
Lin Feng slowly sat up from the bed.
He didn't disturb the woman beside him.
Outside the window, the sky was beginning to show a hint of dawn.
A new day was about to arrive.
Lin Feng dressed silently, his movements as light as a cat's.
Before leaving, he looked back at the woman on the bed with perfect curves who was still sleeping soundly.
Their encounter began with a discussion about art.
Their interaction was a game of control.
Their union was a transaction where each got what they needed.
No emotional entanglements, only a resonance of souls and the achievement of goals.
He got what he wanted.
Perhaps she got what she wanted too.
Lin Feng didn't linger; he turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving this "Box of Light" suspended on the cliff.
The early morning sea breeze carried a hint of chill, blowing against his face and cooling his mind, which was somewhat boiling from obtaining such great power.
He got into his aston martin and started the engine.
However, he didn't return to his apartment in Beverly Hills.
He turned the car around and drove directly toward the Lakers' training facility.
The humiliation of the six-game losing streak.
Kobe's trust.
The eyes of his teammates.
And Scarlett's words, "You can't see the full picture of victory."
Everything was urging him on.
He couldn't wait to test the power of this "Emperor's Eye."
Chapter 74: Kobe's Shock
Before dawn, an aston martin cut a silver silhouette through the silent streets, finally coming to a stop in the Lakers' training facility parking lot with a slight screech of tires.
Lin Feng turned off the engine and pushed the door open to get out.
In the early morning of Los Angeles, the air still carried the chill of the night.
He hadn't gone home, nor had he taken even a moment's rest.
Those newly born "eyes" were buzzing in his mind, urging him on, longing for a court where they could be unleashed to their heart's content.
The training facility was empty and pitch black.
*Click.*
Lin Feng flipped the switch, and rows of lights turned on one after another, illuminating the massive court as bright as day.
The air was filled with the familiar scent of wooden floors mixed with sweat.
He walked to the ball rack and casually picked up a basketball.
When his fingertips touched the familiar grain of the basketball's surface, a completely different sensation surged through him.
Now.
Lin Feng thought to himself.
[Eye of the Heavenly Emperor, Activate!]
Without any warning, the world before his eyes changed.
The entire court seemed to be instantly digitized, turning into a virtual space composed of countless data streams and geometric lines.
He could "see" the subtle fluctuations in the air caused by the lights.
He could "see" the tiny gaps where each piece of the wooden floor joined beneath his feet, along with their precise angles.
The basketball in his hand was no longer a simple sphere.
He could "see" every black groove on the basketball's surface and the minute deformations caused by air pressure that were impossible for the naked eye to detect.
This was a brand-new world.
Lin Feng dribbled the ball once.
The ball hit the ground and bounced back up.
In his field of vision, a clear blue trajectory line perfectly predicted the height of the bounce, the speed of the rotation, and the exact position where it would return to his hand.
Not even a hair's breadth off.
He threw the ball toward the backboard.
While the ball was still in mid-air, another yellow prediction line extended from the backboard, precisely marking the landing spot after the rebound.
This had transcended mere vision.
This was an omniscient perspective that saw through the laws of how all things operated!
Lin Feng slowly walked to the Lakers logo at center court.
He looked at the orange hoop in the distance.
In his vision, the hoop was no longer a static object.
Countless pale gold arcs extended from his current position toward the hoop, filling the entire half-court.
Each arc represented a possibility for a shot.
And one of them was as bright as the trajectory of a star.
That was the one and only path that would result in a 100% hit.
Lin Feng didn't take any shooting stance.
He simply pushed the basketball in that direction with one hand, as casually as if he were tossing a trash bag.
The basketball traced an arc in the air that wasn't particularly graceful.
It didn't have the air-tearing dominance of the [Midorimas Full-Court Three-Pointer].
It looked like a weak floater from a beginner.
But it was precisely such a shot.
*Swish!*
A crisp, pleasant sound echoed through the empty arena.
Nothing but net!
There was no expression on Lin Feng's face.
This wasn't a skill that relied on muscle memory.
This was the inevitable result of perfect calculations made using the [Eye of the Heavenly Emperor]!
He began practicing his dribbling.
This time, he focused his vision on himself.
Sets of data appeared on his retina.
[Body Center of Gravity Height: 85.3 cm]
[Left Knee Joint Flexion Angle: 121 degrees]
[Core Muscle Group Power Ratio: 76%]
He could clearly "see" every minute change in his center of gravity.
He could "predict" which angle to use for a change of direction to save the most energy while exploding with the fastest speed.
He performed a wide crossover toward the empty space in front of him.
At the moment he made the move,
the [Eye of the Heavenly Emperor] automatically simulated a translucent defender made of data in his vision!
That virtual defender was completely fooled by his crossover, losing its balance entirely.
The red dot representing its center of gravity shifted wildly to one side.
Then, a red "Ankle Breaker" warning flashed at the virtual figure's ankles!
The figure collapsed to the "ground."
Lin Feng stopped his movements and stood in place.
He didn't even need a real opponent.
These eyes could already simulate everything on the court for him!
Just as he was immersed in this new sense of power, the training facility door was pushed open from the outside.
*Creak—*
Kobe Bryant, wearing a black training suit, walked in at dawn as usual.
He had thought he would be the first to arrive.
But he hadn't expected the court lights to already be fully on.
And that kid who should have been resting at home was in the middle of the court, playing alone with an extremely strange rhythm.
Kobe stopped and frowned.
He saw Lin Feng dribbling, but the movements were odd.
Sometimes he would break through fiercely, then suddenly stop.
Sometimes he would make an unbelievable feint, shaking against thin air.
It felt as though he wasn't practicing alone,
but rather engaged in an intense game with an invisible yet incredibly powerful opponent.
The sound of Kobe's footsteps startled Lin Feng.
Lin Feng withdrew from the world of the [Eye of the Heavenly Emperor], and the world before him returned to normal.
He looked at Kobe at the door.
"Up so early?" Kobe walked over and tossed his bag to the side, his tone carrying a hint of scrutiny.
"Couldn't sleep." Lin Feng smiled and passed the ball to him. "Care for a game?"
Kobe took the ball and weighed it in his hand.
He wanted to see if the kid's mentality had crumbled after losing six games.
"I'll attack."
Kobe didn't waste words and immediately squared up.
Holding the ball, he faced Lin Feng's defense, his eyes becoming focused.
He made a classic, highly deceptive jab step.
Right foot forward, shoulder dipping slightly.
This was the opening move for his fadeaway jumper, a killing blow he had used countless times to finish off opponents on the court.
However,
in the 0.01 seconds just as his right foot stepped out and his center of gravity tilted,
he saw Lin Feng move.
Lin Feng didn't get fooled by the feint and instinctively retreat or lunge forward like other defenders.
He simply took a step sideways to the right, as if taking a stroll.
That step was neither too much nor too little, neither too fast nor too slow.
Kobe's heart skipped a beat.
But his years of muscle memory still forced him to jump, leaning back in the air to perform that picture-perfect shot.
But when he raised the ball to its highest point, ready to release,
a palm appeared precisely before his eyes.
Like a wall, it blocked off all his shooting angles.
Lin Feng, like a prophet with foresight, had predicted the landing point of his fadeaway in advance and stood there calmly, waiting for him to fall into the trap.
*Clang!*
Under the interference, the basketball hit the front rim and bounced high.
Kobe landed and stood firmly.
He didn't look at the missed shot; instead, he looked at Lin Feng with an incredulous gaze.
How is this possible?
In that moment just now, he felt as if he were transparent.
Every single one of his thoughts and intentions behind every movement had been seen through clearly by this kid!
"My turn."
Lin Feng picked up the ball, showing no extra expression.
Transition from defense to offense.
Lin Feng held the ball, facing Kobe.
He didn't do anything flashy, just the simplest crossover that even a basketball beginner would know.
From left hand to right.
In front of a defensive master of Kobe's caliber, such a move was no different from standing still.
Kobe's defensive instincts allowed him to make an instant judgment.
This kid is going to break through from the right!
His center of gravity instinctively moved toward his left—Lin Feng's right—preparing to block the path.
However, at the very moment his center of gravity shifted!
Lin Feng's movement changed!
The ball that was supposed to cross over to the right hand seemed glued to his left hand, and with an extremely subtle movement, he snapped it back to the left!
Kobe's brain didn't have time to react at all!
His body had already lost its balance because of the previous prediction!
His feet felt as if they had been tripped by something, and he stumbled forward a couple of steps, nearly falling to the ground!
Ankle Breaker!
He had actually been shaken off balance by the most basic crossover!
Kobe forced himself to steady his stance and whipped his head back.
Lin Feng had already easily bypassed him and stood under the basket, laying the ball in with one hand.
Kobe wasn't angry.
In his heart, there were only stormy waves of shock!
He stared intently at Lin Feng and finally realized that this kid was completely different from yesterday and before.
It was the eyes!
In those eyes, there was no longer the previous sharpness and unwillingness.
Instead, there was a bottomless calm and indifference, as if he could see through one's very soul.
Kobe couldn't help but speak, his voice a bit dry.
"Kid, you... what happened?"
Lin Feng turned around, looked at the shocked Kobe, and curled his lips into a smile.
"I can just... see more clearly now."