Chapter 106: The Domain of God! The Elegance of That Shot!
"ZONE, activate."
As Lin Feng silently recited these three words in his heart.
The entire world completely changed in his eyes.
The mountain-shaking, sea-tsunami-like clamor of the Staples Center seemed to have its mute button pressed, vanishing instantly without a trace.
In front of him, Kawhi Leonard, who was lunging at him with his massive palms spread wide, had his movements slowed down by at least half.
Every contraction of his arm muscles, every shift in his center of gravity, every defensive intent revealed in his eyes.
Everything turned into the clearest, most direct stream of data, presented right before Lin Feng's eyes.
[Defender: Kawhi Leonard.]
[Estimated in 0.3 seconds, the right hand will complete the lockdown of the shooting space.]
[Lockdown Coverage: 95%.]
On the flank, Danny Green, who was quietly approaching, was also digitized.
[Help Defender: Danny Green.]
[Estimated in 0.5 seconds, a double-team will form from the left side.]
[Escape Route Lockdown Rate: 100%.]
This was an absolute dead end.
A net cast by the joint efforts of the Spurs' two top defenders.
Under any normal circumstances, the result of this offensive possession would only be a steal or a pathetic forced shot.
But now, Lin Feng was not in a normal state.
His brain was as calm as a supercomputer performing precise calculations.
And his body had entered an extraordinary state of absolute focus.
Just a moment before Leonard's massive palm was about to touch the basketball.
Within that extreme 0.3-second time window.
Lin Feng moved.
He had no redundant fake moves, no step-backs, and didn't even adjust his shooting posture.
He simply raised the ball right in the face of Leonard's block the moment he received it.
Then, with a gentle flick of his wrist.
The entire motion, from catching the ball to the release, was done in one smooth motion.
Fast!
Fast to an inconceivable degree!
So fast that the naked eye simply couldn't capture the complete trajectory of the movement!
In the eyes of everyone on the sidelines, it was as if half the animation frames had been crudely cut out!
In the previous frame, the ball was still in Lin Feng's hands.
In the next frame, the ball was already gone!
The basketball, with an extremely exaggerated high arc that completely defied common physical knowledge, skimmed right over Leonard's fingertips.
That arc was so high it almost touched the spotlights on the arena's dome.
The basketball drew a perfect, rainbow-like trajectory in the air, falling toward the distant basket.
Time, at this moment, seemed to be infinitely stretched.
In the entire Staples Center, nearly twenty thousand spectators all held their breath.
Everyone's eyes were fixed, following that orange leather ball flying through the air.
At the commentary table, Charles Barkley's mouth hung wide open, his eyes bulging like copper bells.
He wanted to say something, but found that not a single syllable could escape his throat.
This... what kind of shot is this?!
Still two steps away from the three-point line!
Right in the face of the league's best defensive player!
Released with a motion so fast it couldn't be seen clearly?!
Are you fucking kidding me?!
Courtside, in the first row.
Yinna's heart had already leaped into her throat.
Her hands were tightly clenched, her knuckles turning white from the excessive force.
She didn't understand basketball tactics.
But she could understand the situation on the court.
She could see Lin Feng's predicament of being double-teamed by two people.
More importantly, she could feel the tension of that critical moment.
And right under everyone's gaze.
That high-flying basketball crossed its peak.
It began to descend.
Its target was incredibly precise.
It was that orange rim!
"Swish!"
A crisp and pleasant sound that made the souls of all Lakers fans tremble!
The basketball went straight through the net!
The net flipped up in a wave of pure white!
3-2!
After a full second of deathly silence.
The entire Staples Center completely exploded!
"ROAR!!!"
"Holy Sh*t!!!"
"Oh My God!!!"
Cheers and screams that couldn't be described in words were like a volcano that had been building up for a long time, erupting violently at this moment!
That wave of sound almost blew the roof off the entire arena!
"It's in! The ball is in! My God! Lin Feng made that shot!"
At the commentary table, Kenny Smith finally found his voice, almost standing up and roaring into the microphone.
"A shot from three meters beyond the three-point line! A shot right over Kawhi Leonard's block!"
"He made it! He actually made it! This is unbelievable!"
Charles Barkley also finally reacted, shaking his head vigorously, his face written with disbelief.
"No, Kenny, you don't understand!"
"The point isn't the distance, nor is it the defense!"
"The point is his release speed! Did you see that? I swear, in all my years of commentating, I've never seen a release this fast!"
"That simply doesn't conform to ergonomics! That's unscientific!"
On the court.
Kawhi Leonard, having completed his blocking motion, still held his hand out, standing there with a blank expression.
He wasn't even sure if the opponent had really taken the shot.
He only felt a blur before his eyes, and the ball was gone.
Then, he heard the sound of the ball hitting the net.
He looked down at his palm.
Then he looked up at the back of the number 24 jersey calmly running back to the other half of the court.
On Leonard's perpetually frozen ice-mountain face, for the first time, a crack appeared.
It was a kind of pure confusion from having known things overturned.
In front of the Lakers' bench.
Kobe's sharp eyes were fixed intently on Lin Feng.
In that moment just now, even he hadn't completely seen Lin Feng's shooting motion clearly.
Too fast!
It was so fast it surpassed his understanding of the skill of shooting!
And on the other end of the court.
Gregg Popovich, who had been sitting steadily with his arms crossed.
For the first time, he stood up slightly from his seat.
His brows were tightly furrowed together.
The Spurs' possession.
Parker tried to use his speed to attack the paint again.
But this time, the Lakers' defensive rotation was clearly a beat faster.
The interior barrier formed by Gasol and Howard didn't give him any easy shooting opportunities.
In desperation, Parker could only kick the ball out to the perimeter.
Danny Green received the ball and attempted a three-pointer.
"Clang!"
Amidst the interference of the home crowd, the ball clanked off the rim!
Howard leaped high and firmly secured the rebound!
"Pass it to me!"
Lin Feng's voice rang out from the backcourt.
Howard didn't hesitate at all, throwing a long outlet pass directly to Lin Feng, who was already on the fast break!
Lin Feng caught the ball, dribbled, and sprinted toward the Spurs' half at high speed.
He had just crossed the half-court line!
He hadn't even reached the three-point line!
The Spurs' defense immediately reacted!
Leonard and Danny Green, like two enraged hounds, charged toward Lin Feng from both sides for a double-team!
This time, they wouldn't give Lin Feng any room to breathe!
They were going to use the strongest pressure to completely extinguish this man who had just ignited his flame!
However.
Facing this even more ferocious double-team that seemed ready to swallow him whole.
There was no expression on Lin Feng's face.
He didn't even slow down!
The moment the two were about to close in, his right hand, which was dribbling, suddenly pulled back!
He tucked the ball directly into his chest!
Then, under everyone's horrified gazes.
He jumped with both feet right in the face of the two-man defense!
Once again, he raised the ball over his head!
He's going to shoot again?!
Chapter 107: Unstoppable! The Proclamation of a Miracle!
He's going to shoot again?!
This question only existed in the minds of everyone present for 0.01 seconds.
Because, in the desperate eyes of Kawhi Leonard and Danny Green, the basketball had already vanished.
Lin Feng's release was even faster than the previous shot!
There was no pause at the peak of his jump.
There was no process of adjusting his center of gravity.
The moment his feet left the ground, his wrist had already completed all the work.
That motion was less of a shot and more of an instinctive release!
Before the encirclement formed by the two elite defenders could fully close, the basketball had already soared into the sky.
Once again, it traced an absurdly high arc that seemed to challenge the laws of gravity.
The entire Staples Center fell into an eerie silence once more.
Everyone tilted their heads back.
Watching that orange ball fly through the air in solitude.
On the sidelines.
Gregg Popovich, who had just half-risen from his seat, froze completely.
His eyes were fixed deathly on that rainbow.
His brain, at this moment, stopped thinking.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
This had completely exceeded his understanding of the sport of basketball.
*Swish!*
The sound was still just as crisp.
Still just as pleasant to the ears.
And still just as scalp-tingling!
The basketball, for the third time, passed through the exact center of the net!
6:2!
If the first shot carried a hint of luck,
Then this second shot was the proclamation of a miracle!
"Roar—!!!"
After two long seconds of dead silence, the Staples Center went completely wild!
A landslide and tsunami of cheers, mixed with the incredulous screams of countless people, nearly blew the roof off the arena!
"It's in! It's in again! Oh my god! He made it again!"
At the commentary desk, Kenny Smith clutched his head and let out a roar of pained excitement!
"A double-team! From just past half-court! This isn't a shot! This is making a wish to God!"
"He IS God!"
Charles Barkley slammed the table, stood up, and bellowed into the microphone.
"Tonight, God is wearing a Lakers number 24 jersey! I said it!"
In the first row of the audience.
Yinna watched the back of the figure calmly running back on the court, and her tightly clenched hands finally relaxed.
Her eyes became warm once again.
But this time, it wasn't from feeling wronged.
It was pride.
It was honor.
This was her man.
The man who, in the face of the world's criticism, declared to her that he would win this war for her!
On the court.
Leonard and Danny Green glanced at each other.
In each other's eyes, they both saw an emotion called "bewilderment."
They had executed the coach's tactics.
They had used their strongest defensive pressure.
But the result was like two fools charging at a windmill—laughable and futile.
*Beep—!*
From the San Antonio Spurs' bench came the buzzer requesting a timeout.
The composure Popovich had at the start of the game was gone from his face.
His expression was serious to the extreme.
The players walked off the court and gathered around him.
Popovich didn't lose his temper or reprimand them.
He picked up the tactical board and used a marker to draw a heavy circle around Lin Feng's name.
"Danny."
His voice was low and raspy.
"From now on, treat him as your shadow."
"I don't want you to give him any space to catch the ball, do you hear me? None!"
"Use your body to squeeze him, to bump him! Even if you pick up a foul, do it at all costs!"
Popovich looked up, his gaze sweeping over every player.
"The rest of you, be ready to help at any time! As soon as he gets the ball, double-team him immediately!"
"I don't believe there is a scorer in this world who cannot be restricted!"
The timeout ended.
The game resumed.
On the Spurs' offense, Duncan drew a foul from Gasol in the low post and relied on free throws to score two points.
6:4.
It was the Los Angeles Lakers' turn to attack.
Everyone saw it.
Danny Green was like a piece of adhesive tape, stuck tightly to Lin Feng.
His chest was pressed firmly against Lin Feng's back.
His hands were constantly applying various small movements to Lin Feng's waist and arms that were hard for the referees to detect.
He had completely given up on defending the ball.
He had only one task.
That was to not let Lin Feng receive the ball!
Blake dribbled to the frontcourt and frowned as he looked at the completely locked-down Lin Feng.
He tried to lob the ball to Howard inside, but Duncananticipated it and broke it up.
The Lakers' offense had stalled once again.
Just then.
Lin Feng, who had been pushed and shoved by Danny Green, moved.
He didn't engage in too much of a struggle with his opponent.
He simply made a fake back-cut toward the corner.
Danny Green immediately followed!
But the moment he shifted his center of gravity,
Lin Feng's body came to a sudden halt and he sprinted back toward the three-point line!
At the same time, the power forward, Gasol, understanding the intent, stepped up and used his massive frame to set a solid off-ball screen!
*Thud!*
Danny Green slammed headfirst into Gasol, like hitting a wall.
That 0.1-second opening was all it took!
Blake's pass was delivered precisely into Lin Feng's hands!
The moment he caught the ball, Lin Feng's body was still moving at high speed.
He didn't even look at the rim!
He simply followed his body's momentum, leaned back, and launched the ball!
The entire motion was fluid and extremely fast!
From catching the ball to it leaving his hand, the entire process took no more than 0.1 seconds!
Danny Green had just rounded the screen and reached out, but he only swiped at thin air.
He could only look back in despair.
*Swish!*
The familiar sound rang out for the third time!
9:4!
The entire Staples Center was ignited once again!
"Another one?! Even that went in?!"
Barkley's voice was starting to crack.
"A catch-and-shoot on the move! And a fadeaway! Has he gone mad tonight?!"
Over the next few minutes.
The audience in the arena had the privilege of witnessing a shower of three-pointers that would be etched into the history books.
The Spurs' defense became even more frantic.
They began to triple-team Lin Feng.
But Lin Feng, in those narrow gaps between people, used an almost contorted posture to force a shot!
*Swish!*
Still in!
The Lakers launched a defensive counterattack.
Lin Feng pushed the ball forward, and as soon as he crossed half-court, without giving the Spurs a chance to set their defense, he pulled up for a sudden jumper!
*Swish!*
Nothing but net!
Every shot was like a precise scalpel, mercilessly piercing through the defensive system the Spurs were so proud of.
Every sound of the ball hitting the net was like a heavy hammer, pounding hard on the hearts of every Spursplayer.
The second quarter had just passed the halfway mark.
Lin Feng's individual score had already reached 24 points.
He had made 8 three-pointers.
Without a single miss!
In front of the Spurs' bench, Gregg Popovich stood there blankly with his arms crossed.
On his face, which was usually as calm as a deep well, there appeared for the first time an expression mixed with shock and confusion.
He realized that all his tactical arrangements and defensive systems lost all meaning in the face of that absolute speed and absolute accuracy.
Chapter 108: Cracks in the System! Four-Man Trap!
The second quarter of the game had just passed its halfway mark.
Lin Feng's personal score had already reached 24 points.
He had made 8 three-pointers.
Every shot was perfect!
In front of the San Antonio Spurs' bench, Gregg Popovichstood there, arms crossed, in a daze.
For the first time, his perpetually calm face showed an expression mixed with shock and confusion.
He found that all his tactical arrangements, all his defensive systems, had lost all meaning in the face of absolute speed and absolute accuracy.
"Beep—!"
Popovich called another timeout.
This time, he didn't remain silent.
As the players walked off the court with a hint of confusion and frustration, they were met by Popovich's roar, suppressing his anger.
"What are you doing?!"
The old man's voice wasn't loud, but it sent a shiver down every Spurs player's spine.
"Are you taking a stroll?!"
"I told you to defend, not to be spectators and watch him put on a three-point show!"
He rarely lost his composure like this during a game, especially in the playoffs.
But today, he felt that his decades of coaching philosophy were being repeatedly trampled by that No. 24 in the most brutal way.
Duncan lowered his head, saying nothing.
Parker and Ginóbili were also silent.
Leonard's expressionless face, with its taut muscles, showed his inner turmoil.
Popovich took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
He grabbed the tactical board, almost crushing the marker pen.
"Listen!"
He no longer drew any complex tactics.
He simply used the pen to draw crosses on all possible positions Lin Feng might appear in the Los Angeles Lakers' half-court.
Then, he looked up and issued new instructions in an almost frantic, reckless tone.
"From now on, I don't care about the other Lakersplayers!"
"I don't care about Gasol, I don't care about Howard!"
"As long as that No. 24 gets the ball in our half, four people! Send four people to double-team him!"
"I want him to not even have a chance to catch the ball! Do you understand?!"
A four-man trap!
Upon hearing this command, all the Spurs players, including the assistant coaches, were stunned.
This was basketball, not football.
Using four people to defend one perimeter player?
That meant the other four Lakers players would have huge open spaces on the court.
This was a suicidal defense!
"Coach..." Assistant coach Budenholzer tried to persuade him.
"Execute the order!"
Popovich didn't give him a chance to speak; his eyes were bloodshot.
He was betting his dignity as a legendary coach!
He didn't believe it! He didn't believe anyone could break such a defense!
The timeout ended, and the game continued.
The Spurs players returned to the court with a resolute, almost tragic expression on their faces.
Lakers' offense.
Blake held the ball, slowly advancing to the frontcourt.
He immediately sensed that something was wrong.
The Spurs' defensive formation had become incredibly bizarre.
They almost completely left Blake open at the top of the arc and ignored Howard and Gasol, who were posting up in the low block.
Danny Green still followed Lin Feng like a shadow.
And Leonard, Parker, and even power forward Boris Diawbegan to converge on Lin Feng's position.
A huge and crazy encirclement was forming.
Kobe's expression on the sidelines became incredibly serious.
Barkley, at the commentator's desk, was so shocked that he stood up directly.
"What are they doing? Four people! The Spurs are going to use four people to double-team Lin Feng!"
"Popovich is crazy! Is he completely giving up on this game?!"
However, Lin Feng, in the eye of the storm, was calmer than anyone else.
In his "ZONE" domain.
The entire court transformed into a 3D model composed of countless data streams.
He could clearly "see" it.
When Popovich made a closing gesture on the sidelines.
Four red data lines, representing defensive players, began to converge rapidly from different directions towards the coordinate point representing himself.
[Detected "Four-Man Encirclement" tactical command.]
[Defender A: Danny Green, close interference.]
[Defender B: Kawhi Leonard, expected to reach help-defense position in 0.8 seconds.]
[Defender C: Tony Parker, expected to reach help-defense position in 1.1 seconds.]
[Defender D: Boris Diaw, expected to reach help-defense position in 1.2 seconds.]
[Encirclement formation time: 1.2 seconds.]
[Host's optimal shooting window: 0.5 seconds.]
All these calculations were completed in Lin Feng's mind in less than an instant.
Just as Blake's pass was halfway through its flight.
Lin Feng had already started moving.
He no longer waited for the ball to reach his hands.
Instead, he made an active run to meet the ball, charging directly towards the incoming basketball!
The Spurs' four-man encirclement had just begun!
They watched helplessly as Lin Feng, two steps beyond the three-point line, jumped up to meet the pass!
He caught the ball in mid-air!
He didn't even let the basketball linger in his hands!
While his body was still ascending, his wrist had already flicked the ball out!
"Swish!"
The basketball, once again, traced a perfect arc.
And went right into the net!
12:4!
When the basketball passed through the net.
The four Spurs players, rushing from different directions, collided exactly where Lin Feng had just jumped.
The scene was both comical and disheartening.
They looked at each other.
Their faces showed undisguised frustration and bewilderment.
They had tried their best, executing the coach's most extreme tactic.
But their opponent was like a god who could predict the future.
Always one step ahead of them.
"My God..."
Barkley slumped back in his commentator's chair, muttering to himself.
"He... he saw through Popovich's tactics..."
"This isn't basketball, it's magic."
This offensive play, like a needle, completely pierced the taut nerves of the Spurs players.
For the first time, their machine-like precise defensive system showed visible cracks.
The next possession.
The Spurs' offense was a bit rushed.
Parker's pass resulted in a small turnover, stolen by the quick-reacting Artest!
Lakers on a fast break!
Artest threw the ball to Lin Feng!
Lin Feng caught the ball and drove at full speed!
This time, Leonard charged forward like a madman!
He anticipated that Lin Feng would once again pull up for a three-pointer.
He used all his strength, leaping high, trying to block the shot!
But after he jumped, he realized.
Lin Feng wasn't shooting at all.
He had just made a simple pump fake.
Leonard's body lost balance in the air, and he crashed heavily into Lin Feng!
"Beep!"
The referee's whistle blew loudly!
Defensive foul!
This was Kawhi Leonard's first foul on Lin Feng in this game!
Looking at Lin Feng, who stood at the free-throw line, his expression still calm.
For the first time, a crack appeared on Leonard's cold face.
It was wavering.
It was self-doubt.
His proud defensive instinct had become a joke in front of Lin Feng.
And the other Lakers players, ignited by Lin Feng's god-like performance, were completely fired up.
Howard, in the paint, was like a awakened beast, continuously grabbing offensive rebounds.
Gasol's playmaking also became more agile.
The entire team's defense had improved by a notch!
The pace of the game was completely controlled by the Lakers.
Three minutes remained in the third quarter.
Lin Feng, at the top of the arc, once again received a pass from Blake.
In front of him stood a Leonard who was on the verge of collapse.
Lin Feng made no unnecessary movements.
He simply, calmly, jumped and shot.
The basketball in the air drew the fifteenth perfect rainbow of the night.
"Swish!"
Ball in!
45 points!
The score difference had reached a terrifying 30 points!
Chapter 109: The Coronation of a King! The Proclamation of a Miracle!
The ball is in!
45 points!
The lead has reached a terrifying 30 points!
When the basketball swished through the net for the fifteenth time, that crisp'swish' sound was like a command.
A command that plunged the entire Staples Center into utter madness!
Everyone still seated in the arena stood up!
They waved their arms, opened their mouths wide, and roared with all their might, making incoherent sounds!
This was no longer watching a basketball game.
This was witnessing the birth of a miracle with their own eyes!
In front of the San Antonio Spurs' bench.
Gregg Popovich's perpetually composed face froze completely.
He looked at the number 24 still standing beyond the three-point line, then looked up at the dazzling scoreboard.
45:15.
This was Lin Feng's individual score compared to the entire San Antonio Spurs' score in this quarter.
His proud defensive system, which had dominated the league for more than a decade, was completely torn apart tonight by one person, in the most primitive and unreasonable way.
They lost.
From a tactical standpoint to a psychological one, they were utterly and completely defeated.
He slowly sat back down in his seat.
The tense, unwilling, and angry expressions on his face all vanished.
In their place was a deep, helpless weariness.
He made a substitution gesture towards the players on the court.
All of them were to be substituted.
Duncan, Parker, Ginóbili, Leonard... all of the San Antonio Spurs' starters were substituted at this moment.
As they walked off the court, not a single person spoke.
Each of their faces bore the same blank look of being utterly crushed.
Especially Kawhi Leonard.
He walked past Lin Feng with his head down, not even daring to look at him again.
Tonight, this man, with fifteen three-pointers, planted a seed named 'Devil' in his heart.
The San Antonio Spurs gave up.
The moment Popovich substituted his starters, it was tantamount to him admitting his defeat to the entire world.
The game officially entered garbage time.
And at this moment.
Lin Feng felt the mysterious 'ZONE' state, which had been supporting him, begin to recede like a tide.
The deafening cheers in the arena once again surged into his ears.
Deep within his body, a huge sense of fatigue washed over him like a mountain collapse and a tsunami.
His legs felt weak.
Sweat poured from his forehead as if a faucet had been turned on.
He knew that his physical endurance had reached its limit.
The power of 'ZONE' came at the cost of double the physical exertion.
He leaned on his knees, breathing slightly.
Then, he looked up at the Los Angeles Lakers' bench and gestured to D'Antoni to substitute him out.
D'Antoni immediately understood, waved his hand, and sent the substitute players onto the court.
When the arena announcer called out Lin Feng's name.
He turned around and began walking towards the bench.
Just as he took his first step.
From some corner of the arena, a somewhat hoarse but incredibly clear shout rang out.
"MVP——!"
This sound was like a stone thrown into a calm lake.
Immediately after.
A second voice rang out.
"MVP——!"
The third.
The hundredth.
The thousandth!
"MVP! MVP! MVP! MVP!"
Finally, the entire Staples Center, nearly twenty thousand spectators, whether Los Angeles Lakers fans or neutral fans who had previously booed him.
Everyone stood up spontaneously!
They used all their strength, in unison, shouting the same name!
The sound converged into an unstoppable torrent, echoing repeatedly in the arena!
Deafening!
This was a coronation for a king!
Lin Feng walked towards the bench.
He listened to the overwhelming shouts, his expression still calm.
But his violently beating heart felt an unprecedented satisfaction.
He reached the bench.
A figure, leaning on a crutch, was already limping there, waiting for him.
It was Kobe.
Kobe's face held an extremely complex expression, a mixture of admiration, relief, and even a hint of jealousy.
He looked at Lin Feng, who had walked up to him, and said nothing.
He simply extended his uninjured hand, forcefully pulled Lin Feng over, and gave him a solid hug.
He leaned into Lin Feng's ear and said in a low voice, audible only to the two of them.
"Well done, kid."
Kobe's lips moved.
"You played a game that belonged to you."
After speaking, he released his grip and heavily patted Lin Feng's back.
This was a passing of the torch.
A formal handover of the mamba mentality.
Lin Feng nodded and sat back down in his seat.
The live director, understanding the moment, once again cut the camera to the first row of the stands.
Yinna's face appeared on the big screen.
She no longer hid herself with a hat and mask.
Her exquisite and beautiful face was adorned with an incredibly brilliant, proud smile.
However, her bright eyes were, at some point, filled with glistening tears.
She looked at herself on the big screen, then at the figure surrounded by countless people on the sidelines.
Tears finally couldn't be held back, sliding down her cheeks.
They were tears of joy.
They were tears of happiness.
He did it.
He truly won this war for her.
"Beep——!"
The final whistle of the game finally sounded.
125:90!
The Los Angeles Lakers, on their home court, with a resounding victory, successfully tied the series score at 1:2!
That night.
The game footage spread throughout the entire league at an astonishing speed.
From Miami to Oklahoma, from New York to Chicago.
The coaching staff of all teams stayed up all night in their offices, repeatedly watching the game footage.
Especially Lin Feng's fifteen incredible three-pointers.
They slowed down each shot ten times, twenty times, to furiously study them.
But the results of their study left everyone feeling despair.
That unbelievable shooting speed.
That terrifying range covering the entire half-court.
That absolute accuracy, ignoring any defense!
This had already transcended the realm of tactics.
All the previous online ridicule and talk about 'circus basketball' were shattered into pieces overnight.
In its place was a new term, tinged with a hint of awe.
— 'Gods Domain'.
Staples Center, post-game press conference.
It was still packed with people.
All the reporters were waiting for that man to appear.
Gregg Popovich.
He walked into the press conference expressionlessly and sat behind the table.
Countless flashes lit up on his face.
A veteran reporter from ESPN was the first to stand up and point the microphone at him.
"Coach, how would you evaluate Lin Feng's performance tonight?"
As soon as this question was asked, the entire press conference instantly fell silent.
Basketball fans worldwide were waiting through various channels for the legendary coach's answer.
Chapter 110: Popovich's Trembling! An Unfathomable Phenomenon
Staples Center, post-game press conference.
It was still packed with people.
All the reporters were waiting for that man to appear.
Gregg Popovich.
He walked into the press conference room expressionlessly and sat down behind the table.
Countless flashes lit up on his face.
A senior reporter from ESPN was the first to stand up, pointing the microphone at him.
"Coach, may I ask, how do you evaluate Lin Feng's performance tonight?"
As soon as this question was asked, all the noise in the press conference room disappeared.
The air seemed to have been sucked out.
Everyone held their breath, their gaze focused on the silver-haired old man.
The red indicator light of the camera flickered silently.
Basketball fans all over the world were waiting for the legendary coach's answer through various channels.
Popovich did not speak immediately.
He just sat there, looking at the dense array of microphones and recording pens in front of him, his eyes somewhat vacant.
One second.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
The entire press conference room was eerily quiet, with only the sound of camera shutters constantly clicking.
The reporters began to stir.
They had never seen Popovich like this.
No sarcasm, no brevity, not even a hint of emotional fluctuation.
He just sat there quietly, like a statue that had lost its soul.
Finally.
After half a minute of silence.
Popovich slowly reached out and pulled one of the microphones in front of him to his mouth.
His movements were slow and heavy.
Everyone present subconsciously leaned forward.
"We..."
Popovich spoke.
His voice was unusually hoarse, carrying an unprecedented weariness.
He paused, seemingly organizing his words, or perhaps making a difficult decision.
Then, he raised his eyelids, his gaze sweeping over all the reporters below the stage, and said, word by word, a statement that would shake the entire league.
"We didn't lose to the Los Angeles Lakers tonight."
This sentence stunned everyone present.
Didn't lose to the Lakers?
What did that mean?
The reporters looked at each other, their faces filled with confusion.
Popovich ignored their reactions and continued to speak the second half of the sentence in that heavy, emotionless tone.
"We lost to a... phenomenon that we cannot understand."
Phenomenon!
When this word came out of Popovich's mouth, the entire press conference room erupted!
All the reporters' eyes widened, their faces filled with shock!
They frantically took notes in their notebooks, afraid of missing a single word!
Popovich looked at the restless crowd below and did not stop.
He seemed to want to pour out all the shock in his heart.
"When a player's shooting speed is so fast that your defender can't react at all."
"When his shooting percentage is so high that all your defensive schemes are useless."
"That's no longer a problem that tactics can solve."
These words exploded in the ears of every reporter like a sudden clap of thunder!
This was no longer a simple post-game comment!
This was an admission!
It was the greatest coach in history publicly denying his own basketball philosophy!
It was his personal admission that his proud system, which had dominated the league for nearly two decades, had completely failed in the face of Lin Feng's performance tonight!
After saying these words, Popovich did not give the reporters any more opportunities to ask questions.
He pushed his chair back, stood up, and, escorted by staff, left the press conference without looking back.
Leaving behind only a dead silence and countless dumbfounded faces.
A few seconds later.
The entire news center completely erupted!
"My God! Popovich admits he can't defend Lin Feng!"
"Quick! Post this video! The title is 'An Unfathomable Phenomenon'!"
"This is definitely the biggest news of this year's playoffs, no! In the past decade!"
In less than a minute.
This interview video of Popovich, accompanied by various sensational headlines, swept across global social networks like a virus.
Twitter, Facebook, major sports forums.
All places related to basketball were completely flooded with the words "An Unfathomable Phenomenon."
"Did I hear that right? Popovich said it himself? He was convinced by a sophomore rookie?"
"More than just convinced! He was beaten to the point of questioning life! 'An Unfathomable Phenomenon,' what a high praise for a player!"
"I take back everything I said before! Lin Feng is a god! A god who descended upon Staples Center tonight!"
"Where are those people who said Lin Feng was a team cancer and played circus basketball? Does your face hurt?"
All the previous online ridicule and arguments about "circus basketball" were shattered overnight.
In their place was a new term, imbued with awe and mythical connotations.
—Divine Domain.
And on the other end of this storm.
The Lakers' post-game press conference.
Lin Feng, accompanied by D'Antoni, walked into the venue.
Unlike the oppressive and heavy atmosphere of the Spurs' side, here, it was filled with the joy of victory.
The frequency of flashes was several times denser than before.
Lin Feng sat down behind the table, his expression calm.
As if the person who had made fifteen three-pointers on the court and forced the greatest coach in history to concede early was not him.
A reporter impatiently stood up.
"Lin, did you hear? Just now, Coach Gregg Popovichdescribed you as an 'unfathomable phenomenon.' What are your thoughts on this?"
Lin Feng picked up the microphone, his expression largely unchanged.
"Coach Popovich is one of the greatest coaches in the league, and I respect him very much."
His answer was humble and official.
"Tonight's victory belongs to the entire team. My teammates put in tremendous effort on the defensive end, and they created shooting space for me."
Another reporter immediately followed up with a question.
"Fifteen three-pointers, the second-highest single-game playoff scoring in history. Do you consider this the greatest game of your career?"
"No."
Lin Feng shook his head.
"This is just one playoff game. We just won one game, making the series score 1:2."
"The series is still long, and we have no right to be proud."
"Our goal is to win the entire series."
His voice was not loud, but every word revealed an unquestionable firmness.
The reporters below the stage looked at this overly calm young man, a strange feeling rising in their hearts.
On the court, he was like a raging fire that consumed everything, domineering, flamboyant, and arrogant.
Off the court, he was like a bottomless lake, calm, humble, and steady as a mountain.
This huge contrast shrouded him in an even more mysterious aura.
The press conference continued.
But everyone knew that from the moment Popovich said those words.
This series, which everyone thought had no suspense, had undergone a drastic change.
Suspense was reborn.
And the already tilted scale of victory was quietly, slowly swinging towards the other side.
Chapter 111: The Power That Devours the Body! The Door to the Monster!
Lin Feng's answer was broadcast worldwide through countless cameras.
The reporters at the press conference still wanted to continue their questioning.
But D'Antoni had already stood up. He patted Lin Feng's shoulder, signaling the end of the press conference.
Escorted by staff, Lin Feng left the room filled with flashes and noise.
The relaxed atmosphere of victory echoed in the hallway.
Every team staff member who passed by gave him a thumbs-up, their faces showing sincere smiles.
Lin Feng smiled and responded to each one.
The moment he pushed open the door to the home team locker room.
"Splash—!"
Cold, bubbly champagne and sports drinks poured down on him from all directions!
"Hahaha! Our MVP is back!"
Howard held an empty Gatorade bucket, laughing like a three-hundred-pound child.
Gasol also let loose for once. He was shaking a bottle of champagne and spraying white foam toward Lin Feng.
"Nice job, Lin!"
"You maniac! Fifteen three-pointers! Are you trying to shoot the rim into sparks?"
The entire locker room turned into a sea of joy.
The players laughed and shouted, lavishly giving all their praise to the sole hero of the night.
Lin Feng was somewhat disheveled by the sudden "attack." He wiped the liquid from his face and started laughing too.
He laughed, embracing and chest-bumping every teammate who rushed up to him.
The joy of victory, in this moment, was so real and so exhilarating.
The celebratory revelry lasted for nearly ten minutes.
When everyone was done messing around and laughing, and the locker room gradually quieted down.
The exhaustion that had been suppressed by adrenaline finally rushed toward Lin Feng like a burst dam.
His smile froze on his face.
He felt as if his legs were filled with lead, and every step he took was incredibly heavy.
For a moment, his vision blurred and darkened.
He shook his head, forced himself forward, walked to his locker, and then sat down heavily with a thud.
He didn't even have the strength left to take off his soaking wet jersey.
"Lin? Are you alright?"
Team Doctor Gary Vitti noticed something was wrong immediately and quickly walked over, concern etched on his face.
"Give him some space!"
Vitti pushed aside the surrounding players, squatted down, and began to check Lin Feng's condition.
He picked up a towel, handed it to Lin Feng, then reached out and gently pressed on Lin Feng's thigh muscle.
"How do you feel?" Vitti asked.
"A little tired." Lin Feng's voice was somewhat weak.
Vitti didn't speak, but his brow furrowed.
He began using professional techniques to give Lin Fenga muscle relaxation massage.
His fingers slowly pressed and kneaded Lin Feng's rock-hard quadriceps.
As the massage went deeper, Vitti's expression grew increasingly serious.
His fingers could clearly feel it.
Deep within Lin Feng's solid muscles, there was an abnormal, faint tearing sensation.
That was not a normal reaction after strenuous exercise.
It was a cry of distress from muscle fibers overwhelmed by the body being pushed beyond its limits!
"Lin."
Vitti stopped his hands, looked up, and spoke in an extremely serious, unequivocal tone.
"This isn't ordinary fatigue."
"Your muscle fibers show signs of slight tearing."
"This is the direct consequence of your body operating under an excessive load."
He looked at Lin Feng, warning him word by word.
"Tonight's explosive playing style has caused immense damage to your body."
"This cannot become your regular weapon. Otherwise, I guarantee you, your career will absolutely not last two seasons."
Vitti's words were like a bucket of cold water poured over the fiery atmosphere that had just ignited in the locker room.
Everyone quieted down, looking at Lin Feng, who was sitting there exhausted, their smiles replaced by worry.
Just then.
A figure appeared at the locker room door.
Kobe Bryant.
He stood there quietly, leaning on a crutch, his right foot encased in a thick plaster cast.
Everyone's eyes in the locker room focused on him.
Kobe's gaze was complex.
He looked at the pale young man sitting on the chair, receiving treatment from the Team Doctor.
In his eyes, there was admiration and relief, but more than that, there was a deep concern that only a veteran could understand.
He ignored everyone else.
He just used his sharp eyes to scan the surrounding players and staff.
"Everyone out."
Kobe's voice was not loud, but it carried a natural authority.
"I need a word with him."
Everyone, including Team Doctor Vitti, quietly filed out.
Before leaving, Howard glanced at Lin Feng worriedly, but after meeting Kobe's gaze, he obediently left.
The heavy locker room door was closed.
The noisy world was shut out.
Only Lin Feng and Kobe remained in the room.
Kobe slowly limped over to Lin Feng, leaning on his crutch.
He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Lin Feng.
He didn't offer any congratulations.
He just looked at Lin Feng, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke in a low, resonant voice.
"Tonight, you opened a door."
Lin Feng looked up at him, puzzled.
Kobe's gaze was as deep as the night sky.
"A door leading to the realm of monsters."
"But remember this," Kobe's voice dropped even lower.
"This power is a double-edged sword. It can bring you everything you desire: victory, glory, cheers..."
"But at the same time, it will devour you."
Kobe reached out and pointed to Lin Feng's still slightly trembling thigh.
"It will devour your body, your health, everything about you."
He withdrew his hand, patted his right leg encased in plaster, and gave a self-mocking smile.
"When I was young, I also thought I was omnipotent. I thought my body was forged from steel."
"I flew through the air, I ignored all defense, I thought I was a god."
"But what happened?"
Kobe pointed to his leg.
"A body full of injuries, countless stitches, and this ruptured Achilles tendon. This is the price."
"This is the payment the monster demanded from me."
Lin Feng looked at Kobe, at the weariness on his face, and at the leg that could no longer allow him to take flight.
His heart sank.
He finally understood the true weight of the Team Doctor's previous words.
And he finally understood the source of the worry in Kobe's eyes at this moment.
Just as the atmosphere in the locker room became somewhat heavy.
The expression on Kobe's face suddenly changed.
The veteran's weariness and emotion vanished.
It was replaced by a coldness and sharpness, like the striking of a black mamba.
His gaze became extremely serious.
"Don't think that just because you won tonight, you can relax."
"Do you think you defeated Popovich?"
"No, you just completely enraged him."
Kobe leaned closer, his voice sounding like it was squeezed through his teeth.
"Tonight, he abandoned all his tactics, and he abandoned the dignity of a famous coach. Do you know what that means?"
"It means that in Game 4, he will use a crazier, more primal method to deal with you!"
"He will abandon basketball itself and use every means possible to stop you. They will constantly crash into you, pull at you, provoke you, and even... injure you!"
Kobe's eyes stared intently into Lin Feng's eyes.
"Be ready, kid."
"The next game is the real hell."
Chapter 112: Calm at the Eye of the Storm! A Gentle Harbor
Kobe's voice was like a heavy stone weighing on Lin Feng's chest.
The next game will be the real hell.
This sentence echoed repeatedly in his mind as he left the locker room.
The joy of victory was largely diluted by this calm warning, replaced by a more intense sense of urgency, like a storm about to break.
Outside the Staples Center, reporters from all over the world had already crowded the area, making it impassable.
Countless flashes, like stars in the daylight, flickered wildly at everyone walking out of the player tunnel.
Media praise came flooding in like a tide.
"Fifteen Three-Pointers! Lin Feng Conquers Staples Center with a Miracle!"
"Popovich Personally Admits He Can't Defend Him! 'Phenomenal' Performance Shocks the League!"
"The Series Suspense Is Reborn! The Lakers' Savior Has Arrived!"
These headlines, which would have been enough to excite him yesterday, seemed distant and surreal in his eyes now.
He pushed through the noisy crowd and got into the car heading back to his apartment.
Outside the car window, the neon lights of Los Angelesstreaked past like rivers of flowing light.
Lin Feng leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, shutting out all the outside noise... The apartment door was gently pushed open.
What greeted him was not an empty darkness, but a room filled with warm light and the faint aroma of food permeating the air.
Yinna, wearing comfortable loungewear, immediately stood up from the sofa upon hearing the door and hurried to the foyer.
She was holding a clean towel in her hand.
"You're back."
Her voice was soft and gentle; she didn't ask about the game or mention the overwhelming news.
Lin Feng looked at her, at those eyes filled with a hint of heartache and concern, and the string in his heart that had been pulled tight finally relaxed.
"Yeah."
He changed his shoes and walked into the living room.
On the dining table were several light but nutritious dishes, all helpful for physical recovery.
On the coffee table next to the sofa was an ice pack filled with ice and a small medical kit.
Yinna didn't ask much.
She simply pulled Lin Feng to sit on the sofa, then knelt on the carpet herself, carefully applying the ice pack to his calves.
The cold sensation provided a sense of relief to Lin Feng's burning muscles.
"Does it hurt?" Yinna looked up and asked softly.
Her fingers pressed gently against his calf muscles.
Her movements were unfamiliar, even a bit clumsy, but the pressure was controlled just right.
Lin Feng shook his head.
"It doesn't hurt, it's just a bit sore."
Yinna gave an "oh" and didn't say anything else.
She just sat there quietly and silently, massaging the two legs that had performed miracles tonight but had also endured a massive load.
The living room was very quiet.
Only the occasional sound of passing vehicles came from outside.
This gentle, purposeless care brought Lin Feng an unprecedented sense of peace after experiencing the extreme explosion on the court and the immense noise off it.
He suddenly understood.
The "Soul Resonance" mentioned by the system brought more than just that mysterious power boost on the court.
More importantly, it was this emotional, absolute stability and support.
A harbor where he could safely dock after shedding all his armor.
"Actually... the next game will be even harder."
Lin Feng looked at her focused profile and, by some strange impulse, spoke up.
Yinna's hand paused for a moment.
She looked up at Lin Feng.
In those clear eyes, there was no curiosity about basketball tactics, nor worry about future wins or losses.
She just looked at him and then gave a shallow but very warm smile.
"I don't need you to explain anything."
Her voice was soft, yet it carried a power sufficient to soothe all restlessness.
"I only know that you need me, and I will be here."
These words were like a warm current, instantly flowing through every fiber of Lin Feng's being.
He reached out and gently pulled her into his arms.
This unconditional, pure trust and support gave him more strength than any flowery words ever could.
His home front was secure.
He could devote 100% of his energy to the upcoming real war.
He knew that he would eventually have to face the complicated relationships with Taylor and Scarlett.
But this temporary, precious calm was vital to him... Late at night.
Yinna had already fallen asleep.
But Lin Feng was not sleepy at all.
He sat on the living room sofa, turned on the TV, and pulled up the game footage of tonight's G3.
Kobe's warning rang in his mind like an alarm bell.
"A crazier, more primitive way..."
What could it be?
Lin Feng's eyes were glued to the screen.
Instead of watching the highlight reels, he focused all his attention on the details of the Spurs' defense.
His brain, under the lingering effects of the "ZONE" state, maintained a super-high operational efficiency.
Everyone's movement on the court and every physical contact were dismantled and reconstructed before his eyes like data.
Once.
Twice.
When he watched the game footage for the third time in slow-motion mode.
His pupils constricted slightly.
He discovered a detail.
A detail that had been overlooked by everyone, including himself, in the feverish atmosphere of the game.
In the second quarter, before he hit his sixth three-pointer.
Danny Green had a very subtle elbow thrust to his ribs during an off-ball screen.
The force wasn't great, but it was highly aggressive.
In the third quarter, before he hit his tenth three-pointer.
While Leonard was chasing him on defense, his knee made an almost imperceptible, malicious bump against the outside of Lin Feng's thigh.
Following that, the eleventh, the twelfth... before almost every shot he took, the intensity of physical contact was quietly increasing in an unnoticeable way.
Those actions were all on the edge of a foul.
Precise, hidden, and full of purpose.
Lin Feng pressed the pause button.
On the screen, the frame was frozen exactly when Leonard slammed his body into him.
A chill slowly rose from his spine.
He finally understood.
In the latter half of the game, when Popovich realized that no tactic could limit his shooting.
The Spurs' objective had changed.
What they were attacking wasn't his shooting at all.
It was his body!
In G4, they would abandon those complex defensive rotations.
They would use the most primitive, brutal physical contact to wear him down, batter him, until... they destroyed him.
That would not be a basketball game.
It would be a relentless, life-and-death hunt targeted solely at him.
Chapter 113: The Queen's Challenge! The Loser Bites the Dust!
It was a relentless hunt, targeted at him and him alone.
Lin Feng's back rested against the cold sofa, but a chill more piercing than the sofa's temperature seeped through him.
The frozen image on the TV screen was Leonard's young face, which already showed a cold, hard outline.
He felt as if he could look through the screen and see the will of Popovich behind those eyes.
It was a determination to erase him from the court at any cost.
The air was quiet, almost suffocating.
The carnival of victory had long since receded, leaving only the dead silence before the storm.
The next day.
The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting mottled light and shadows on the living room floor.
Lin Feng hadn't slept all night.
After a night of rest and Yinna's careful attention, his body's soreness had eased significantly.
But the string of his spirit was pulled tighter than ever before.
"Ring, ring—!"
The phone's ringtone abruptly broke the silence of the apartment.
It was a call from his Agent, Jeff Austin.
Lin Feng picked up the phone.
"Lin! Something's happened!"
On the other end of the line, Jeff's voice was so anxious it was almost out of tune.
"Calm down, Jeff. Speak slowly." Lin Feng's voice was steady, devoid of any emotion.
"I can't calm down! Taylor Swift's team just called me!"
"They demand that you speak with Taylor personally!"
Jeff's voice sounded like an engine about to burn out.
"Do you know what this means? Lin! The whole world is watching you and that Korean girl!"
"At a time like this, you absolutely cannot be associated with Taylor again! It would be a PR disaster!"
Jeff was practically begging.
"Listen, Lin, when you take the call, don't admit anything and don't explain anything!"
"Just apologize! Keep apologizing! Lower your stance! We need to stabilize her right now, not provoke her!"
Lin Feng listened quietly.
He could imagine Jeff on the other end of the phone, scratching his head in anxiety.
Apologize?
Lower your stance?
The corner of Lin Feng's mouth curled into a cold arc.
In the face of absolute strength, those PR techniques seemed laughable and powerless.
"Give me the phone." Lin Feng's tone left no room for negotiation.
There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.
"Lin... are you sure? Don't do anything reckless!"
"I said, give me the phone."
Jeff let out a long sigh, his voice filled with despair.
A few seconds later, the call was transferred.
A slight static crackle came through the receiver, followed by a somewhat languid yet incredibly clear, queen-like voice.
"Lin Feng?"
"It's me."
Lin Feng's response was simple and direct.
No apology, no explanation, not even a polite greeting.
The person on the other end seemed slightly surprised by his reaction.
After a brief silence, Taylor's voice rang out again, this time with a hint of amusement.
"You're quite the celebrity worldwide right now."
"That girl is very beautiful."
Lin Feng didn't take the bait.
He just leaned back on the sofa, looking at the sky outside the window, and spoke calmly.
"I'm in the middle of a war right now."
"A very difficult war."
"I need to focus all my energy on winning it."
He didn't explain his relationship with Yinna.
Because he knew that any explanation would only seem pale and weak in front of another proud woman.
He chose a more direct approach, one that aligned better with the logic of the strong.
"Wait until I win this war."
Lin Feng's voice was calm and firm.
"I will come to see you personally and give you the answer you want to know."
The other end of the line fell into a long silence.
So long that Lin Feng could even hear his own steady heartbeat.
One second.
Two seconds.
Five seconds.
Just as Lin Feng thought she would hang up directly.
A very soft, short laugh suddenly came through the receiver.
In that laughter was a hint of being provoked and intrigued.
"I'll be waiting."
Taylor's voice regained its usual queenly aura of being in total control.
"I watched your performance on TV."
"It was wonderful."
"Like the most magnificent verse of a song."
Her tone suddenly shifted.
"But one performance isn't enough."
"That can only be considered a good opening."
"If you win this series."
Her voice carried an unquestionable declaration.
"I'll perform my next concert just for you."
Lin Feng's heart skipped a beat.
He knew this was Taylor Swift issuing a challenge in her own way.
A bet full of temptation and pressure.
"But if you lose."
Taylor's voice suddenly turned cold.
The languidness and amusement vanished without a trace, replaced by a cold, emotionless resolve.
"Then don't come to see me."
"I never watch the performances of losers."
"Losers only deserve to eat dust."
After saying this, she hung up the phone decisively.
Only the "beep-beep" of the busy signal remained in the receiver.
Lin Feng held the phone for a long time without putting it down.
It had to be said, this woman was very clever.
She didn't get entangled in emotional issues like ordinary women.
Instead, she brought the core of the issue directly to the level of victory and defeat.
Win, and you have everything.
Lose, and you have nothing.
It was cruel, but also fair.
More importantly, it completely ignited Lin Feng's fighting spirit.
A concert performed just for him.
Such a reward would give any man an irresistible sense of conquest.
Just then, Jeff transferred the call back.
"My god! Lin! What did you just say to her?!"
Jeff's voice was full of relief, like a survivor.
"Her PR team just notified me that they won't be releasing any negative news about you to the media for now!"
"How on earth did you do it?!"
"I just made a bet with her," Lin Feng said faintly.
"A bet?"
"A bet on the outcome of this series."
Without waiting for Jeff to ask more, Lin Feng hung up the phone.
He needed quiet.
He muted his phone and tossed it aside.
Kobe's warning, the San Antonio Spurs' hunt, Taylor's challenge... all the pressure weighed on his shoulders like massive mountains.
But instead of feeling suffocated, he felt a long-lost excitement that made his blood boil.
He liked this feeling.
The feeling of carrying the whole world on his shoulders and then lifting it up with his own hands.
He was about to get up for today's recovery training.
The phone on the sofa suddenly lit up.
Even though it was muted, the lit-up screen caught his attention.
He glanced at it instinctively.
It was a text message from an unknown number.
Lin Feng picked it up and opened the message.
The content of the message was simple, just one sentence.
"I'm Scarlett Johansson. Is it convenient for you to take a call?"
Lin Feng froze in place, holding the phone.
Before he could even catch his breath.
Another woman's call came in.
Chapter 114: The Beast's Audience! Scarlett's Invitation!
Scarlett Johansson.
That name, like a stone dropped into a calm lake, stirred ripples in Lin Feng's heart.
He looked at the lit-up phone screen, his mind racing.
Taylor's call, he could understand as stemming from a sense of possessiveness and a counterattack after being provoked.
But Scarlett... between them, they barely even had any real interaction.
After a brief moment of thought, Lin Feng slid to answer the call.
On the other end, there was no immediate sound, only a very faint breathing sound with a slight electrical texture.
This deliberate silence was a form of pressure in itself.
Lin Feng did not speak first; he just waited quietly.
He knew that the one who spoke first often lost the initiative.
Finally, a light chuckle came from the other end of the line.
The laugh was husky, magnetic, carrying the lazy yet dangerous charm unique to mature women.
"It seems you are calmer than I imagined, Lin."
Scarlett's voice slowly drilled into Lin Feng's ears through the receiver.
"Do you need something from me?"
Lin Feng's tone remained flat.
He reviewed the explanation he had just given to Taylorin his mind, preparing to use it again.
However, Scar... "I watched your game."
Scarlett interrupted him directly, not giving him a chance to explain.
"And I saw the story between you and that little girl after the game."
Her tone carried no emotion—no jealousy, no anger, just a pure statement.
"So, I guess you must be having a headache right now, wondering how to explain yourself to me, right?"
Lin Feng leaned back on the sofa without speaking.
The explanation he had prepared was blocked in his throat by her casually spoken sentence.
This woman was harder to deal with than Taylor.
"I am currently in a war."
Lin Feng ultimately decided to respond in the same manner.
"A very difficult war."
"I need to concentrate all my energy to win it."
"When I win, I will..."
"Darling."
Scarlett interrupted him again, the husky voice carrying a clear, playful hint of laughter.
"You don't need to give me any answers."
Lin Feng froze.
"Answers and explanations are for little girls who need a sense of security."
Scarlett's voice was like a seductive, corrupting spell in the dark.
"And I am not interested in those things."
"I smell blood and the scent of victory on you."
"That fascinates me more than any explanation."
The knuckles of Lin Feng's hand gripping the phone tightened.
He felt like prey that had been completely seen through.
No, or rather, the other party didn't care if he was prey or not.
"You are like a beast let out of its cage."
Scarlett's voice lowered further, carrying an indescribable excitement.
"I love watching beasts fight."
"So, don't disappoint me."
"Keep winning, and let me see how many prey you can tear apart."
The voice on the other end was full of insinuation and teasing.
Not only did she not exert any pressure, but she also displayed an immense, almost pathological interest.
Lin Feng suddenly understood.
If Taylor was the Queen who looked down from above, issuing a challenge through victory and demanding submission,
Then Scarlett was the Empress sitting at the highest point of the Colosseum, watching the beasts fight below with interest, enjoying the blood and violence.
Their personalities were completely different.
The way to manage them would naturally be completely different.
"In that case, as an audience member, there should be a wager, right?"
The corner of Lin Feng's mouth curved into an arc.
Since the other party wanted to watch a show, she couldn't be allowed to watch for free.
That husky chuckle came from the phone again.
"Of course."
Scarlett's voice was crisp and decisive.
"If you can win this series and advance to the Western Conference Finals,"
"The male companion spot at the premiere of my next movie is yours."
This bet had an equally fatal attraction on another level compared to Taylor's private concert.
Being the male companion at a top Hollywood actress's premiere meant directly stepping into the pinnacle social circle of fame and fortune.
"Deal."
Lin Feng showed no hesitation.
"I look forward to your performance, Mr. Beast."
With that, Scar... hung up the phone.
Lin Feng held his phone and let out a long breath.
The temporary 'truce' between the two Queens completely removed his worries.
He knew this was just the calm before the storm.
He had temporarily postponed the outbreak of the crisis with victory and a grander promise.
But he also understood that once he lost the game, or failed to fulfill his promise, the emotional explosion would be even more violent than a defeat on the court.
Everything rested on Game 4.
Resting on what Kobe called the true 'hellish battle'.
Lin Feng stood up, the last trace of fluctuation in his eyes disappearing.
What remained was only the calmness and focus of the abyss.
He took off his shirt, revealing a physique with smooth lines, full of explosive power.
He was about to begin recovery training.
He needed to adjust his body as quickly as possible to be ready to face a real war.
Meanwhile.
San Antonio, the Spurs' training facility.
The atmosphere was as heavy as the sea before a storm.
Popovich stood before the tactical board, expressionless.
He did not review any tactical details from Game 3.
Because it was meaningless now.
He simply drew a large human figure on the tactical board with a red marker.
Then, he looked up, his gaze sweeping over every player with their heads down.
Duncan, Parker, Ginóbili, Leonard... "Forget Game 3."
Popovich's voice was icy and devoid of emotion.
"Forget those damn tactics, forget those useless rotations."
He picked up the board eraser and wiped away all the offensive symbols on it.
Leaving only that red human figure.
"From now on, we have only one tactic."
Popovich's eyes flashed with a nearly insane, reckless light.
"Use your bodies to crash into him!"
"Use your knees to ram him!"
"Use your elbows to wear him down!"
"I want him to feel the confrontation from hell on every catch, on every run!"
"I want him to not even have the strength to take a standing shot!"
Popovich heavily slammed the marker onto the tactical board.
"For Game 4, our goal is not to win the game."
"It is to destroy him!"
Chapter 115: The Final Piece of the Puzzle! The Calm Before the Storm!
It was a relentless hunt, a fight to the death, targeted at him alone.
Lin Feng leaned his back against the cold sofa, but a chill even more piercing than the sofa's temperature ran through him.
The frozen image on the television screen was Leonard's face—young, yet already showing a cold, ruthless profile.
He felt as if he could look through the screen and see the will of Popovich behind those eyes.
It was a determination to erase him from the court at any cost.
The air was quiet, almost oppressively so.
The revelry of victory had long since receded, leaving only the dead silence before a storm.
The next day.
After dealing with the two phone calls from Taylor and Scarlett, which were laced with hidden agendas, Lin Fengcompletely sealed away all of his emotions.
Their challenges and their bets had transformed into the most primal fuel in his heart.
He knew very well that from now until the end of Game 4, only basketball remained in his world.
And the hellish war that was about to arrive.
The Lakers' practice facility.
Lin Feng arrived earlier than anyone else.
He didn't perform his usual shooting routine as he normally would.
Instead, he sought out the team's video analyst and an assistant coach.
"I need your help."
Lin Feng's voice was very calm.
"I need to simulate every kind of physical contact I might encounter in Game 4."
The assistant coach was somewhat puzzled.
"Lin, you mean... contact at a foul level?"
"No."
Lin Feng shook his head.
"Something more troublesome than fouls."
He pointed to his ribs, the outside of his thighs, and his wrists.
"I need someone to constantly dig their forearm into my ribs before I catch the ball."
"To bump my thighs with their knees while I'm moving off-ball."
"To flick my wrists with their fingers as I'm shooting."
"I need to get used to finding my shooting rhythm while being bumped, pulled, and harassed by all sorts of small dirty tricks."
The assistant coach and the analyst looked at each other, both seeing the shock in the other's eyes.
They immediately understood what Lin Feng meant.
He was preparing for an ugly street fight filled with clashing muscles.
"I also need to study one more thing."
Lin Feng's gaze turned toward the empty court.
"How to find the switch to enter that 'Zone' while my body is under constant attack and my mind is being incessantly harassed."
He knew that Midorima Shintaro's Full-Court Three-Pointer was his only weapon.
But this weapon required a startup condition.
And that was absolute focus.
The Spurs' focus of attack in Game 4 would be his concentration.
They would use every method possible to make him feel pain and irritation, preventing him from focusing 100% of his attention on the single act of shooting.
The training began.
A tall practice player with a long wingspan played the roles of Danny Green and Leonard.
His task was simple.
To torment Lin Feng with all sorts of moves that skirted the edge of the rules.
Lin Feng moved off-ball again and again.
Thud!
His chest was slammed hard by the practice player's body, causing his catch motion to deform.
He adjusted his breathing and continued to run.
This time, the moment he used a screen, he felt a knee maliciously bump his thigh.
He didn't stop, forcing himself to catch the ball, jump, and shoot.
Clang!
The ball missed by a mile.
Lin Feng wasn't discouraged in the slightest; he picked up the ball and started over.
Knocked down, get back up.
Knocked down again, get back up again.
Sweat soaked his practice jersey, but the expression on his face grew increasingly calm.
He was using his body to memorize this pain, to adapt to this level of contact.
Just then.
The sound of a crutch hitting the floor echoed at the entrance of the gym.
Kobe had arrived.
He didn't disturb anyone, merely leaning on his crutch and watching quietly from the sidelines for a while.
After Lin Feng was knocked off balance by the practice player once more, Kobe spoke.
"Idiot."
His voice wasn't loud, but it silenced the entire gym.
Lin Feng stopped and looked at Kobe.
Kobe hobbled over, pointing at the practice player.
"He uses his body to hit you, why don't you use his power?"
Lin Feng was stunned.
"Basketball isn't about just taking hits head-on."
Kobe's eyes were as sharp as knives.
"Learn to redirect force, learn to use contact to create space for yourself."
Kobe used his uninjured leg to give a demonstration.
"When he bumps you, let your body step back half a pace with the momentum. His center of gravity will lean forward, and in that split second, you'll have shooting space between you."
"When he knees your thigh, don't resist it. Let your leg slide back with his force while using your shoulder to pin his upper body."
"They want to turn you into a battlefield; you turn them into your stepping stones."
Every word from Kobe was like a key, opening a new door in Lin Feng's mind.
These were the survival laws of an apex predator, written outside the official rules of basketball.
They were the precious experiences Kobe had traded for with the injuries, blood, and sweat of a twenty-year career.
"And one more thing."
Kobe pointed to his own head.
"Don't let anger control you."
"The more they try to provoke you, the calmer you must be."
"Treat every physical contact as a calculation. Calculate their center of gravity, calculate their intentions, calculate the referee's limit."
"Then, respond to them with a bucket, or an attack that makes them pay with a foul."
"That is the revenge that will make them suffer the most."
Lin Feng stood in place, carefully digesting every word Kobe said.
It was as if a whole new world had unfolded before his eyes.
At the other end of the gym, in a corner of the stands.
Yinna sat there quietly.
She came every day.
She didn't speak to anyone, nor did she disturb Lin Feng's training.
She just watched silently.
Watching him fall time and again on the court, and get back up time and again.
She didn't understand the complex tactics or the intense physical play.
But she could feel the increasingly powerful and dangerous aura emanating from him.
Whenever Lin Feng finished training and walked off the court with a weary body, she would always be the first to hand him the prepared water and towel.
She didn't need to say anything.
Her presence itself was a form of strength.
Like a constant coordinate.
Allowing Lin Feng to always find a sliver of inner peace amidst the frantic training and immense pressure.
She was the center of the storm, the only place of tranquility.
She was the final and sturdiest anchor on Lin Feng's path to hell... Two days later.
The entire Lakers team took a charter flight and arrived in San Antonio.
The victory in Game 3 had sent the team's morale soaring.
Confidence had returned to the faces of Howard and Gasol.
They began to believe that by following the young man before them, a miracle might truly not be impossible.
However, when they walked out of the airport, what greeted them was no longer the ignorance and indifference of the first two times.
Instead, it was the earth-shattering, hostile boos from the fans of the Texas city.
"Go home, fraud!"
"This is no place for your circus tricks!"
Countless signs were held high, featuring various caricatures mocking Lin Feng.
Camera flashes were like a barrage of bullets, firing madly at him.
Lin Feng stepped off the bus and walked through the malicious crowd under the escort of security personnel.
His face was devoid of expression.
Abnormally calm.
He knew that Popovich and the entire city under his rule had already laid out an inescapable net for him.
From inside the court to outside of it.
The night of Game 4.
AT&T Center.
When Lin Feng stepped onto the away floor wearing the Lakers' number 24 jersey.
He could clearly feel a thick murderous intent permeating the air.
Kobe's prophecy was about to come true.
A true battle from hell was about to begin.