Chapter 136: The Beast's Smile! Destroyer of Rules!
Inside his mind, a cold voice rang out simultaneously.
"ZONE, activated."
The whistle to end the timeout had not yet sounded.
But Danny Green subconsciously took a half-step back.
He didn't know why he was retreating.
It was just an instinct.
The kind of soul-deep shudder a herbivore feels when facing an apex predator.
The Lin Feng before him was still the same Lin Feng.
His height, weight, and appearance hadn't changed at all.
But Green just felt that something was completely different.
It was an aura.
Before, Lin Feng's calmness was a suppressed, forced calmness.
Like a volcano with its crater forcibly plugged; though silent, you could feel the frustration and anger within.
But now.
The calmness on him had become a pure, arrogant, and contemptuous calm that looked down on everything.
In those eyes, all emotions had vanished.
No anger.
No resentment.
Not even a desire for victory.
Only one thing remained.
Wildness.
The most primitive, purest wildness that took pleasure in destruction and devouring.
The bloodthirsty smile at the corner of his mouth slowly faded.
Replacing it was an absolute indifference that made one's heart turn cold.
He was like a high and mighty god, looking down at several ridiculous ants crawling around his feet.
Leonard's brow also furrowed.
On his perennially expressionless face, for the first time, a trace of solemnity appeared.
He could feel that Lin Feng's breathing, heartbeat, and even the relaxation frequency of his muscles had undergone a strange change.
They had become... perfect.
Like a precision killing machine tuned to its optimal state.
Tweet—!
The referee blew the whistle to end the timeout.
The Lakers players returned to the court.
Nash was at the baseline, ready to inbound the ball.
Everyone's eyes were focused on the figure surrounded by three people.
The Spurs didn't change their defensive strategy.
The cage was still there.
Leonard, Green, and Splitter took their positions again, trapping Lin Feng in place like three cold walls.
But this time, an indescribable sense of unease rose in all of their hearts.
"Guard him well!"
Popovich, on the sidelines, rarely stood up from his seat and shouted toward the court.
Nash looked at Lin Feng's position, his eyes full of hesitation.
Should he still pass it to him?
He had been locked down for half a quarter already.
In the second Nash hesitated.
Lin Feng reached out a hand toward him.
A gesture calling for the ball.
His face still held no expression.
Nash gritted his teeth and ultimately chose to trust him.
He passed the ball toward that single, narrow gap!
"Now!"
A light flashed in Leonard's eyes!
He and Green fiercely squeezed toward Lin Feng's body at almost the same time!
They were going to use the exact same method as before to make Lin Feng lose his balance the moment he caught the ball!
However!
0.1 seconds before their bodies were about to make contact with Lin Feng!
Lin Feng moved!
His entire body suddenly dipped down at an inconceivable angle!
His body was almost touching the ground!
One-handed catch!
At the same time, his other hand slammed against the ground for support!
Boom!
A violent, irrational power erupted from his core!
His body, like a spring compressed to its limit, instantly catapulted forward!
Super-High-Speed Dribble!
The basketball seemed to have a life of its own, bouncing frantically in front of him in a trajectory that completely defied the laws of physics!
Fast!
Too fast!
So fast that Leonard and Green couldn't even see the shadow of the ball!
They only felt a gust of wild wind blast through the less than half-meter gap between their bodies!
And then.
The person was gone.
By the time they reacted and spun around!
All they saw was the back of Lin Feng's number 24 jersey, already charging toward their paint like a bolt of black lightning!
"What?!"
Splitter's mind went blank!
He didn't see what happened at all!
How did that man slip through the double-team of two people?!
No!
That wasn't slipping through!
He had forcibly squeezed through!
With a contorted posture that didn't belong to a human at all!
In the Staples Center.
The originally deafening boos and mockery.
At this moment, it was as if a mute button had been pressed.
Instantly, they vanished.
Everyone's mouths hung wide open.
They watched the figure charging frantically on the court, then looked at the slow-motion replay on the big screen, with only one thought left in their minds.
What on earth was that?!
Was that a movement a human could even make?!
At the commentary desk.
Charles Barkley's mouth was open wide enough to fit a basketball.
"Oh... my... my God..."
He had completely lost the ability to speak.
Kenny Smith suddenly stood up from his seat, pointing at the court, his voice trembling!
"A crossover! No! That wasn't a crossover!"
"He didn't make any crossover movements!"
"He just used pure speed and body control to rush through a gap that was impossible to pass!"
"This isn't scientific! This isn't basketball!"
In the stands.
Yinna's worried eyes were now filled with shock and disbelief.
Jeff Austin beside her was completely petrified.
And on the other side.
Taylor Swift slowly took off her sunglasses.
In her beautiful blue eyes, flames were burning.
The curve of her lips widened.
This was it.
This was the beast she wanted to see, breaking free from all shackles!
On the court.
The storm continued!
After squeezing through the first line of defense, Lin Feng's speed didn't slow down in the slightest!
He plunged into the heart of the Spurs' defense like a mad bull!
The Spurs' final line of defense.
Also the most solid line of defense.
Tim Duncan!
The greatest power forward in history didn't show the slightest panic.
His face still held that Stone Buddha-like expression.
He accurately predicted Lin Feng's drive path and blocked him like a mountain!
He raised his hands high, spreading out a massive defensive area enough to shroud everything!
He blocked all of Lin Feng's possible layup routes!
This was top-tier, textbook defense!
Facing this wall.
Lin Feng didn't slow down even a fraction!
In his eyes, there was only the rim!
He jumped directly!
In a near-suicidal manner, he slammed into Duncan's massive frame!
Thud!
A dull sound of muscle colliding with muscle!
Duncan's body didn't budge.
But Lin Feng, under this massive counterforce, lost his balance completely!
His body flew sideways through the air toward the baseline, out of control!
"A turnover!"
"He hit a wall!"
"A foolish offensive choice!"
Such thoughts surfaced in everyone's minds.
Even Duncan thought so.
He was already preparing to turn and grab the ball that was destined to go out of bounds.
However!
In the next second!
A scene that made the whole world hold its breath occurred!
Lin Feng, flying sideways in the air!
His body had completely passed the side of the backboard and was now directly behind the hoop!
He was about to fall out of bounds!
At that critical moment!
Using his right hand that held the basketball, he gave it a gentle flick of the wrist at an extremely bizarre and casual angle!
The ball left his hand!
That wasn't a shooting motion.
It was more like the subconscious action of someone randomly tossing whatever was in their hand as they were about to fall!
Audiences worldwide, through the camera angle behind the basket, saw this inconceivable sight: the basketball traced a bizarre arc from behind the backboard and dropped accurately into the hoop!
Chapter 137: A Goal Beyond Cognition!
Swish!
The crisp and pleasant sound of a basketball falling through the net.
In this arena that was originally so noisy it was about to explode, it was like a bomb that detonated absolute zero.
Time stopped.
Sound disappeared.
In the Staples Center, twenty thousand spectators—whether they supported Lin Feng or cursed him—
At this moment, everyone maintained a posture of open mouths, their brains completely blank.
What did they see?
What happened?
The ball... went in?
How did it go in?
From behind the hoop?
A person, while their body was completely flying out of bounds and positioned directly behind the backboard, threw the ball into the hoop?
Holy shit... can basketball even be played like this?!
All the cameras on site seemed to go crazy, frantically replaying that goal from every angle.
Once.
And again.
On the big screen.
Everyone saw with absolute clarity the image that caused their cognition to completely collapse.
Under the terrifying impact with Duncan, Lin Feng's body lost control completely, drifting sideways out of bounds like a leaf.
His body had already passed the backboard.
Just when everyone thought he was going to fall out and this possession would end in a pathetic turnover.
His right hand, holding the ball, gave an upward toss in an extremely casual manner that showed no visible effort.
The basketball just floated up lightly.
It didn't go for the backboard.
Instead, it traced a bizarre, high arc that completely defied everyone's common sense of basketball.
It cleared the top edge of the backboard.
Then, at a nearly vertical angle.
It fell precisely into the center of the hoop.
It didn't touch the rim.
It didn't touch the backboard.
It was just that clean and crisp, a swish into the net.
Silence.
A deathly silence that lasted for three long seconds.
The entire Staples Center seemed to have turned into a giant graveyard.
Twenty thousand spectators, along with hundreds of millions of fans in front of their televisions, collectively lost their voices at this moment.
They felt as if their brains had been completely formatted by this single shot.
They had watched basketball for decades; all the rules, common sense, and laws of physics they had established regarding this sport—
Were smashed to pieces in the face of this shot!
Thud.
A soft sound.
Tim Duncan landed steadily on the ground.
He didn't immediately turn around to organize the next attack as he usually did.
He just stood there in a daze.
First, he looked back at the basketball still rolling in the net.
Then, he slowly raised his own hands and looked at them.
Finally, he looked up at the figure who had hit him until his chest was numb, and who was only just now climbing up from outside the baseline.
On his face, which remained unchanged for ten thousand years like a still pool of water—the stone buddha.
For the first time, a look of daze appeared that was completely inconsistent with his age.
And an incredulity that came from the depths of his soul.
He had played basketball his whole life.
He had seen Jordan's hang time, Carter's dunks, and Magic Johnson's passing.
But he swore.
He had never seen a goal like this.
This was no longer in the realm of basketball.
This was... this was magic!
On the sidelines.
Gregg Popovich's hand, holding the tactical board, was trembling slightly.
He suddenly stood up from his seat!
The expression on his face was as if he had seen a ghost!
Shock!
Astonishment!
And an unprecedented, strong sense of unease!
The seamless 'cage' tactic he had prepared for Lin Feng, which had been proven absolutely effective in G5.
That perfect tactic based on data analysis, defensive principles, and the most basic laws of the sport of basketball.
In the face of Lin Feng's beastly style of play, which followed no logic and didn't even follow science.
It became a complete and utter joke!
How do you defend a player who can score from behind the hoop?!
What can you use to restrict him?!
Popovich's brain worked rapidly, trying to find a rational explanation for this supernatural scene.
But he failed.
Because it was simply unexplainable!
In the audience.
Yinna covered her mouth tightly so that she wouldn't scream out loud.
Tears, once again, poured uncontrollably from her eyes.
She didn't understand how world-shaking this goal was.
She didn't understand tactics either.
But she could feel it.
She could clearly feel the determination in Lin Feng, who would rather be smashed to pieces just to send the ball into the hoop!
That tragic sense of being at odds with the whole world!
Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed hard by a giant hand.
And not far behind her.
In Taylor Swift's beautiful blue eyes, an incredibly excited, almost crazy light was flashing.
She knew it!
She knew it!
This was what she wanted to see!
The man bound by rules and imprisoned in a cage was dead!
The one standing on the court now.
Was that true beast who had broken free from all shackles, born only for destruction and conquest!
Spurs' ball.
Tony Parker dribbled the ball across the half-court, his face also filled with solemnity.
He tried to organize an attack to pull the team back from the shock of that goal just now.
He passed the ball to Ginóbili on the wing.
But clearly, it wasn't just him; all the Spurs players were still immersed in that incredible shock.
When Ginóbili caught the ball, an extremely rare 'butter-fingered' mistake occurred!
The basketball slipped out of his hands!
A flash of black lightning suddenly swept past him!
It was Lin Feng!
After completing that goal, he didn't celebrate at all, didn't even look back!
He immediately threw himself into defense!
Steal!
Lin Feng got the ball!
The entire Staples Center, in that instant, finally woke up from its dead silence!
"Roar!!!"
Cheers like a landslide or a tsunami completely exploded!
The voices that had booed and cursed him before were completely swallowed up at this moment!
Everyone stood up from their seats, waving their arms, offering the craziest shouts for this man who had just created a miracle!
Lin Feng got the ball and didn't give the Spurs any time to react!
His body, once again like a cannonball fired from a barrel, charged frantically toward the Spurs' half-court!
That speed!
That explosiveness!
It was simply appalling!
He was like a cheetah that had charged into a flock of sheep! Unstoppable!
"Stop him!"
Popovich let out an angry and shocked roar from the sidelines!
The Spurs' defensive system was completely crushed at this moment!
Only one person still maintained his defensive instinct!
Kawhi Leonard!
His young face was filled with unyielding stubbornness!
He strode with his long legs, chasing back frantically!
He had to catch up to him!
He would use a hard foul if he had to, to pull down this guy who had just humiliated their entire team!
He chased very fast!
His speed was already at the level of the league's top wing defenders!
But!
In front of Lin Feng, who had opened [ZONE]!
His speed seemed so slow!
So ridiculous!
At the moment Leonard was about to catch up and prepared to reach out for a foul.
Lin Feng, who was running at full speed, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head!
An extremely elegant behind-the-back dribble!
The basketball went from his left hand to his right hand!
At the same time, his body made a sudden stop without any warning, defying the laws of inertia!
His feet were like nails, pinned firmly to the floor!
Then, an incredibly smooth step-back to the right-rear!
But Leonard, who was chasing with all his might, could not make such a freakish reaction with his body!
His center of gravity had been completely fooled the moment Lin Feng did that behind-the-back dribble!
His large feet seemed to trip over themselves!
Under the immense inertia, his whole body lost balance and he fell forward in a pathetic heap!
Chapter 138: The Descent of Violence Aesthetics!
Kawhi Leonard, at this moment, was like an eagle with broken wings, crashing awkwardly onto the cold floor of the Staples Center.
His eyes were filled with shock, humiliation, and incomprehensible rage.
He saw the back of that Number 24; before him lay an open path.
He thought that person would end this humiliation with an easy layup.
But, he didn't.
Lin Feng stopped.
Right outside the three-point line.
He didn't look back at the rim.
He slowly turned around.
Looking down from above at Leonard, who was still slumped on the floor.
The entire Staples Center fell silent in that instant.
Everyone held their breath, watching this dramatic scene.
Then.
They saw Lin Feng slowly raise his right hand.
He placed his hand by his ear.
Making a listening gesture.
That move!
That classic "listening" gesture belonging to Allen Iverson, full of arrogance and provocation!
He wasn't listening for cheers.
He was listening to the wails of a loser!
He was using this most primitive, street-style, and arrogant way to announce to the world.
Your defense, your pride, are worthless before me!
Boom!!!
When this gesture was clearly imprinted on everyone's retinas through the giant screen on-site!
The entire arena went completely wild!
"Roar!!!!"
That wasn't a cheer!
It was the most frantic, primitive release of hormones after being suppressed to the extreme!
The fans who were still booing Lin Feng before completely defected at this moment!
They forgot about the "Cheating Scandal," forgot about the "Scumbag."
Their blood was completely ignited by this scene filled with Violence Aesthetics!
They stood up, waving their fists, letting out the most frantic roars!
This was the basketball they wanted to see!
This was the ultimate individual heroism belonging to Los Angeles!
At the commentary desk.
Charles Barkley jumped straight out of his chair, waving his fleshy arms, his expression looking like he had seen a miracle!
"He did it! He actually did it! The listening gesture!"
"He's humiliating Kawhi Leonard! He's humiliating the entire Spurs' defense!"
"This is the answer! This is his toughest response to all the doubts and all the boos!"
Kenny Smith held his head, a look of disbelief on his face.
"This kid is a maniac! He's an absolute maniac!"
"He's turning this game into his personal execution ground!"
In the stands.
Taylor Swift stood up!
She took off her sunglasses, her blue eyes burning with a flame hotter than the stadium lights!
She made no secret of her appreciation for this primitive wildness; she was even clapping for Lin Feng!
And not far from her.
Yinna's pale face was written with complexity.
Shock, worry, and a trace of pride that she couldn't even explain herself.
Under the gaze of the whole world.
Lin Feng lowered his hand.
He didn't even spare another glance at Leonard on the floor.
He turned around, facing the basket.
Without even fully straightening his body.
He casually tossed the ball out.
The posture was so casual, it was like throwing a practice ball on the training court.
The basketball drew an arc in the air that made all Spursfans feel despair.
"Swish!"
Nothing but net!
7:14!
The gap was further narrowed!
"Beep—!"
Popovich, on the Spurs' sideline, could no longer maintain his composure!
He suddenly stood up from his seat and slammed the tactical board hard onto the floor!
He roared at the scorer's table, calling for a timeout!
His face was flushed red from extreme anger!
He could accept defeat!
But he would never accept his team, his players, being nailed to the pillar of shame in this manner!
The timeout began.
Leonard only climbed up from the floor with bloodshot eyes after being pulled by his teammates.
Like an enraged beast, he stared fixedly at Lin Feng's back, wishing he could swallow him alive!
But Popovich's cold voice interrupted his revenge fantasy.
"Kawhi, sit down!"
Leonard snapped his head around to look at the coach on the sideline, his eyes filled with unwillingness.
"Coach! I can stop him!"
Popovich's gaze was as cold as ice.
"I said, sit down!"
"You need to cool off!"
Leonard's fists clenched until they cracked.
But in the end, he still lowered his head unwillingly and walked off the court.
On the other side.
The Lakers' bench had completely turned into a sea of joy.
Howard and Nick Young rushed up, bumping chests with Lin Feng with the most exaggerated movements!
"Great job! Lin!"
"You're a damn genius!"
Kobe sat in his spot, unmoving.
But a gratified smile, one only he could understand, tugged at the corner of his mouth.
This beast had finally been fully awakened.
The timeout soon ended.
The game resumed.
Spurs' possession.
Having lost Leonard, their most stable defensive core, their mindset clearly fluctuated.
Tony Parker organized the offense at the top of the arc, trying to use his rhythm to steady the team's morale.
But a black shadow appeared before him.
It was Lin Feng!
Instead of returning to his defensive position, he directly started full-court pressing Tony Parker!
His eyes were like a cheetah that had locked onto its prey.
Full of aggression!
Tony Parker felt unprecedented pressure.
He tried to shake off Lin Feng's defense with a quick crossover.
He succeeded.
But at the moment he crossed over, the basketball passed through his legs.
The next second.
He felt a gust of wind sweep past behind him.
By the time he reacted and looked back.
The basketball was gone.
Lin Feng was gone too.
Staples Center erupted in earth-shattering screams once again!
On the big screen, the slow-motion replay.
Everyone saw it clearly.
The moment Tony Parker crossed over, Lin Feng's body, like a phantom, anticipated all his movements!
His hand, like a venomous snake, precisely poked the ball away from between Tony Parker's legs!
A nutmeg steal!
This was another highly humiliating move that usually only appeared on streetball courts!
Lin Feng got the ball, another fast break with no suspense.
An easy layup scored.
9:14!
The Spurs players' mental state completely collapsed.
Their pride, their system, their basketball philosophy were shattered to pieces before Lin Feng's completely unreasonable and individualistic playstyle.
Their movements began to get rougher.
They started trying to use more violent physical contact to stop this beast that had completely spiraled out of control.
The next possession.
Lin Feng received the ball on the wing.
Manu Ginobili and Danny Green pounced like two mad dogs!
They used their bodies to squeeze Lin Feng tightly toward the sideline!
They wanted to use a hard foul to tell Lin Feng that this was the NBA, not his street playground!
However.
In the [ZONE] state, Lin Feng's perception of everything around him had reached a superhuman level.
Just before the two were about to close the door on him.
He moved!
With a spin like a top, he forced his way through the gap between the two!
His body had completely lost balance in the air!
Ginóbili jumped high, his hand swinging hard toward the basketball!
He was going to block this shot!balance!
But!
In mid-air, Lin Feng made a move that made everyone's scalp tingle!
He switched the ball from his right hand to his left.
His body, like a fully drawn bow, came to a sudden halt in mid-air!
Evading Ginóbili's block!
Then, with a flashy reverse layup, he flicked the ball into the basket from the other side of the backboard!
"Swish!"
In it went!
And at the same time, the referee's whistle blew!
"Beep—!"
"Defensive foul! The basket counts! One free throw!"
An and-one!
Ginóbili held his head in frustration!
He couldn't believe that under those circumstances, under that kind of physical contact, that guy could actually make the shot!
No one was sitting in the Staples Center anymore.
Everyone was standing, hands raised high, offering their worship to this omnipotent man!
The second quarter was about to end.
The Lakers had successfully taken the lead.
And Lin Feng's personal performance was still continuing.
The Spurs' defense was like layer upon layer of fragile window paper before him.
One poke and it tore.
Five seconds left on the clock.
The Spurs' final attack: Ginóbili forced a three-pointer, no good!
The rebound was firmly secured by Howard, who immediately passed the ball to Lin Feng, who had already shot out like an arrow from a bow!
Fast break!
A clear path ahead of Lin Feng!
Only one person remained in the Spurs' half!
That eternal monument of San Antonio!
Tim Duncan!
the stone buddha stood under the basket, spreading his long arms, his face devoid of any expression.
He was going to use his body to defend the Spurs' final dignity!
Everyone thought Lin Feng would choose an easy layup or a pull-up jumper to end this perfect half.
But Lin Feng didn't.
In his eyes flashed a light more frantic than any before!
As he rushed near the free-throw line, he didn't slow down!
He directly smashed the basketball hard toward the backboard!
The basketball bounced high!
"What is he doing?!"
Barkley cried out in shock!
The next second.
Lin Feng's body followed, soaring high into the air!
His jumping height was appalling!
His head had even surpassed the rim!
In mid-air, he caught the basketball that had bounced back from the backboard!
With both hands, he gripped the ball tightly!
Then, facing the stone buddha Duncan who was trying to block him!
He smashed it down hard!
Alley-oop!
Posterizing dunk!
Chapter 139: the stone buddha's Wavering!
Boom—!
A deafening roar, as if the rim was being torn from the backboard, echoed above the Staples Center!
Time, at this moment, was completely frozen.
Tim Duncan, the stone buddha who had stood firm in the NBA's paint for over a decade, was knocked back two steps by this incredibly violent force from the air!
His chest churned with surging blood.
He looked up, with an almost dazed gaze, at the figure hanging on the rim, facing him, letting out a beast-like roar!
Lin Feng's body swayed violently on the rim, like a pendulum.
His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulged from his neck, and his handsome face was now filled with a primal, 瘋狂, conquering pleasure!
"Roar!!!"
That inhuman roar, transmitted through the microphone below the rim, spread to every corner of the world!
This was the victor's declaration!
This was the most brutal execution of the rulers of the old era!
Duncan looked at him.
For the first time, cracks appeared on the stone buddha's face, which had remained unchanged for millennia.
He felt that the restricted area he had guarded his entire life, the basketball philosophy he was so proud of, was at this moment, completely shattered by this young man from the East, in the most barbaric and unreasonable way!
The buzzer signaling halftime arrived late in this fervent ocean.
"Beep—!"
Lin Feng let go and dropped from the rim.
He stood firmly in front of Duncan.
He no longer roared, but calmly looked at the legend before him with eyes burning with wild fire.
Then, he turned and walked towards the player tunnel.
Without looking back.
Leaving behind that shattered era belonging to the Spurs.
Not a single spectator remained seated in the Staples Center.
They were insane.
They were completely insane.
They waved their arms, roared, jumped, using every means to vent the explosive excitement in their chests!
At the commentary desk, Barkley held his bald head, incoherent.
"A poster dunk! An alley-oop poster dunk over Tim Duncan!"
"My God! What did I just witness?! Is this the end of an era?!"
"He destroyed the Spurs! He alone destroyed the greatest defensive system in NBA history!"
On the big screen, the halftime stats were displayed.
Lakers 65:40 Spurs.
The score difference was 25 points.
And under Lin Feng's personal stats, there was a number that suffocated everyone.
40 points!
He scored a whopping 40 points in one half!
...Halftime break.
The Lakers' locker room was like a nightclub having a party.
"Did you see that! He slammed Duncan away!"
Nick Young gesticulated wildly, mimicking Lin Feng's brutal dunk.
Howard rushed over, wanting to give Lin Feng a bear hug, but was forced back half a step by Lin Feng's cold gaze.
They had all become spectators.
Front-row, VIP spectators.
All they had to do was pass the ball to number 24.
Then, stand aside and applaud and cheer for the bloody massacre he was about to begin.
In stark contrast to the revelry here.
Was the Spurs' locker room.
Dead silence.
A tomb-like silence.
The players sat in their seats, heads bowed, not daring to breathe.
Their pride, their confidence, their basketball faith built over two decades, had been torn to shreds by one man in the most primal, violent way during those twenty minutes.
No one knew how to defend that monster.
Double team?
He could weave through gaps you couldn't even imagine with inhuman speed and body control.
Single coverage?
Kawhi Leonard's fate was the best proof.
Let him shoot?
His shooting range covered the entire half-court.
Block his drive?
He could throw the ball in from behind the rim!
Gregg Popovich, the white-haired, distinguished tactical master, simply sat there quietly at this moment.
He didn't roar.
He didn't throw the clipboard.
The anger and shock on his face had long faded.
All that remained was a deep, unprecedented sense of powerlessness.
He had dominated the league for twenty years, and he had seen all kinds of superstars.
But he had never seen a player like this.
That wasn't basketball.
That was pure, violent aesthetics, existing solely to destroy rules.
His proud team basketball, his cherished tactical system.
In front of that man's absolute, unreasonable individual ability.
It was like a joke.
A huge joke... The second half of the game began.
But everyone knew the game was already over.
The Spurs players' eyes had lost their light.
They were just mechanically running, passing, shooting.
Like a group of puppets who had lost their souls.
And Lin Feng was still that tireless beast.
He only played for a few minutes symbolically, effortlessly extending the lead to 40 points with an unreasonable step-back three-pointer and a breakthrough layup that disregarded all defense.
Using an unreasonable step-back three-pointer and a breakthrough layup that disregarded all defense, he easily extended the lead to 40 points.
D'Antoni immediately called a timeout and substituted Lin Feng.
The slaughter could end.
When Lin Feng stood up and walked towards the bench.
A scene that moved everyone unfolded in the Staples Center.
One fan stood up and applauded him.
Then, a second, a third.
Finally, the entire arena, twenty thousand spectators, whether they had supported him before or booed him the harshest.
At this moment, all of them spontaneously stood up!
They paid their highest respects to the man who had just performed a miracle, with the warmest applause and the most reverent gazes!
"MVP!!!"
"MVP!!!"
"MVP!!!"
The deafening shouts echoed in the Staples Center for a long time.
Those fans who had previously called him a "scumbag" and told him to "get out of the Lakers" were now shouting louder than anyone else.
This was Los Angeles.
A city that worships heroes and the strong.
As long as you can conquer this arena, you can conquer everything here.
Lin Feng walked off the court.
He ignored the frantic shouts and did not bask in the adoring gazes.
He simply walked straight to the man in the black training uniform.
Kobe stood up.
He opened his arms and embraced Lin Feng tightly.
He smiled and whispered something into Lin Feng's ear, in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Welcome to my world, kid."
Lin Feng's body trembled slightly.
He let go and looked at Kobe's face, which held a relieved smile.
He knew that from this moment on.
He had truly gained the recognition of the Purple and Gold King.
Lin Feng walked back to the bench and sat down heavily.
He covered his head with a towel, breathing heavily.
The extreme explosiveness brought by the [Aomine Daiki ZONE] mode also brought immense exhaustion.
His body felt hollowed out.
Every muscle was crying out in fatigue.
He leaned back in his chair, feeling his eyelids incredibly heavy.
But he didn't close his eyes.
His gaze pierced through the noisy crowd, through the flashing lights, and once again, fell upon the direction of the stands.
The game had completely entered garbage time.
Both teams' bench players were on the court, engaging in meaningless attrition.
Time, minute by minute, was slipping away.
The final whistle was about to blow.
The live director clearly knew what the audience wanted to see.
He didn't show the boring scenes on the court; instead, he once again aimed the camera at the two special female spectators who had captivated the world's attention since the start of the game.
Chapter 140: The Gaze of Ice and Fire! The Battle for the Queen!
The camera didn't focus on those boring scenes on the court.
It understood the audience's heart very well.
Once again, the camera was aimed at those two special female spectators who had attracted the world's attention since the start of the game.
The final buzzer sounded amidst the clamor.
Staples Center turned completely into an ocean of joy.
The Lakers' bench players rushed onto the court like a herd of crazed bison.
They bumped chests and let out roars of indeterminate meaning.
Victory!
A hearty, overwhelming victory!
They had forced the series into a Game 7!
All cameras and lights should have been focused on these victors at this moment.
But the live director didn't do that.
His camera was steadily locked onto the Lakers' bench.
Locked onto the man who hadn't stood up from start to finish.
Lin Feng.
He didn't participate in his teammates' revelry.
He just sat there quietly.
The towel on his head was completely soaked with sweat; he could feel the warm steam rising.
His body was like a shell drained of all energy.
Every muscle fiber was screaming in sore protest.
The aftereffects of the [ZONE] mode swept over him like a tide.
But his spirit was in an unprecedented state of excitement.
He could hear it.
Those twenty thousand spectators were chanting his name in unison.
"MVP!"
"MVP!"
That sound was like streams of warmth pouring into his exhausted body.
He won.
He responded to the world's judgment in the most violent and unreasonable way.
Kobe walked past him, without a hug or a high-five.
He just lightly punched his chest with his fist once more.
On his face was the gratified smile of a veteran seeing a rookie finally grow up.
"Good job, rookie."
Lin Feng looked up, grinned, and smiled too.
He knew this was the highest praise.
He took off the towel, breathing deeply the hot air of the arena, savoring the afterglow of victory.
And just then.
The live director captured this moment that everyone was waiting for with bated breath.
He provided a classic shot destined to go down in the history of television broadcasting.
The camera slowly moved away from Lin Feng's face, which was full of exhaustion and satisfaction.
It passed through the wildly celebrating players and the arm-waving spectators.
Precisely, it landed on the first row of the audience.
Yinna.
She stood there.
Amidst the landslide-like cheers, she was like a quiet, fragile statue.
Tears were silently falling from her slightly red and swollen eyes.
Drip by drip, they hit the back of her hand, which was tightly clutching the corner of her clothes.
The camera zoomed in.
On that face, like a pear blossom bathed in rain, the emotions were complex to the extreme.
There was pride.
Pride that the man had performed such great individual heroism in the face of the world's judgment.
There was heartache.
Heartache for the heavy pressure he bore alone, and for him being knocked over on the court.
More so, there was a bone-deep confusion and sadness.
He won against the whole world.
But what about me?
What about us?
That decisive figure from the morning in San Antonio, closing the door, surfaced in her mind once again.
He was the king on high.
And she was just an insignificant footnote in the background of his triumph.
The moment this face, full of grievance, pride, and heartbreak, appeared on the big screen.
Many male fans in the arena, who were just screaming wildly for Lin Feng, suddenly went quiet.
An inexplicable trace of guilt rose in their hearts.
However.
The director didn't give them much time to let their emotions brew.
The camera began to slowly pan in another direction.
The movement was very slow.
Slow enough for everyone's heart to leap into their throats.
Everyone knew what scene was going to appear next.
The camera passed several celebrities who were dancing with excitement.
Finally, it fixed on another face that was equally captivating.
Taylor Swift.
She was also standing.
Unlike Yinna's quietness, her entire being radiated a queenly aura that blended with the surrounding fanatical atmosphere.
She slowly took off the sunglasses that covered most of her face.
Revealing those eyes that were as bright and startling as sapphires.
She didn't cry.
The corners of her mouth curled up slightly into a smile full of satisfaction, appreciation, and a strong sense of possessiveness.
That smile seemed to say:
Look.
This is the man I chose.
This is the beast I ignited with my own hands.
This is my masterpiece.
Then.
As if by telepathy.
Or perhaps it was a deliberate arrangement by the invisible hand of fate.
In the trajectory of the camera's pan.
Across the noisy crowd and the crazed flashbulbs.
The eyes of the two women met from afar.
In that instant.
The air seemed to freeze.
Yinna's gaze was complex.
Inside was the instinctive defensiveness of seeing a love rival.
There was a trace of inferiority and sadness from being a "loser."
But more than that, there was a refusal to admit defeat that she hadn't even noticed herself.
She looked at Taylor with eyes like a wounded kitten protecting its food.
Although her whole body was trembling, she still tried to show her claws, even if they weren't sharp.
While Taylor's gaze.
Was direct.
Naked.
Full of aggression.
Her eyes swept over Yinna's pale and haggard face, not lingering for more than a tenth of a second.
In those eyes, there was no anger, no disdain.
Only a faint scrutiny from a superior to an inferior.
Like looking at a display piece that was fairly pretty but had nothing to do with her.
The winner's smile at the corner of her mouth didn't even change in the slightest.
That look seemed to say:
You're very cute.
But, the game is over.
This man is mine.
This eye contact lasted for less than a second.
Yet it was filled with silent, lightning-fast clashes.
Yinna seemed stung by that gaze; she subconsciously looked away and lowered her head somewhat dejectedly.
Meanwhile, Taylor slowly put her sunglasses back on.
She turned and, surrounded by bodyguards, walked toward the other end of the player tunnel without looking back.
What she left behind was the cool, elegant back of a victor.
This scene.
Was completely captured by the cameras on site.
And then, it spread all over the world.
At the commentary desk.
Charles Barkley had completely given up on discussing the game itself.
He pointed at the one-second eye contact on the monitor, his spit flying with excitement.
"Did you see that! Did you see that!"
"Oh my god! That look! That's a queen declaring her sovereignty to the whole world!"
"I take back what I said before; this isn't a Hollywood blockbuster! This is reality! A reality a hundred times more exciting than any movie!"
His partner, Kenny Smith, let out a long sigh.
"Poor Yinna, she lost."
"In terms of aura, she was completely crushed."
"This war seems to have been decided before it even began."
The game was over.
But another, even more eye-catching war, had just begun.
That night.
Social networks across America were completely ignited by this less-than-a-second eye contact!
Major sports media and entertainment gossip headlines all used the most sensational titles to report on the matter.
[TMZ: The Queen's Gaze! Taylor Swift Ends the War with a Single Look!]
[Yahoo Sports: A Duel of Ice and Fire! G6 Arena Witnesses the First Clash of Two Divas!]
And among them, the most retweeted and widely circulated was a headline from ESPN.
"The War of Ice and Fire: Battle for the Queen—Who Does Lin Feng Ultimately Belong To?"
Chapter 141: The Final Answer! Nationwide Frenzy!
The scene of the post-game press conference.
This no longer felt like a sports press conference; it felt more like the backstage of a top-tier entertainment awards ceremony.
The room was packed with reporters from all over the country. A forest of cameras and microphones stood tall, and flashes strobed incessantly as if they cost nothing, nearly blinding everyone.
An air of restlessness permeated the atmosphere.
No one cared about the game's box score.
No one cared about Lin Feng's miracle of scoring 40 points in a single half.
Even fewer cared about how the Lakers had managed to drag the series into a Game 7.
Every face wore the same expression.
Hunger.
An extreme hunger for gossip and bombshells!
When Lin Feng walked into the press conference accompanied by head coach D'Antoni.
The entire room completely exploded!
"Lin!"
"Look over here! Lin!"
Countless reporters stood up from their seats, waving their arms like a pack of sharks smelling blood, desperately thrusting their microphones toward Lin Feng.
Security personnel struggled to maintain order, finally allowing Lin Feng and D'Antoni to take their seats on the dais.
D'Antoni cleared his throat, preparing to give the usual platitudes about the game.
But a reporter from the Los Angeles Times gave him no such chance.
He stood up abruptly and hurled a question at Lin Fenglike a cannonball.
"Lin, congratulations on winning this great game. However, I think what everyone is more concerned about right now is: can you comment on the simultaneous presence of two divas tonight? Did it affect your performance?"
This question was like a fuse.
Instantly, it ignited the room!
Another entertainment reporter from TMZ immediately scrambled to ask a question, their voice sharp and piercing.
"Lin! We all saw your interaction with Taylor Swift during the game! There are rumors that you've been together since Game 5. Is it true?!"
"What do you have to say about Yinna crying courtside tonight? Do you feel you owe her anything?"
"Lin! Is it true that you will be making a choice between the two ladies?!"
One question after another followed in quick succession.
Each question was more biting and pointed than the last!
They weren't interviewing an athlete at all.
They were conducting a trial!
Judging the male lead of a scandal that had ignited a media firestorm across America!
D'Antoni's expression turned sour.
He tapped the microphone, trying to bring order back to the proceedings.
"Everyone! Please! This is an NBA post-game press conference! Please ask questions related to the game!"
However.
No one cared about his protest.
Every lens, every microphone, and every eye remained fixed firmly on Lin Feng.
Waiting for his answer.
Lin Feng sat there, letting the countless flashes strobe wildly across his face.
His eyes, which had been burning with fire on the court just moments ago, were now as calm as a deep pool of water.
He looked at the faces below, distorted by excitement, at the reporters who looked like they wanted to shove their microphones down his throat.
He even spotted a few familiar faces—the media members who had cornered him at the airport before.
He suddenly felt a sense of amusement.
"These guys probably don't even know if a basketball is round or square."
"They care more about my love life than Game 7."
"Truly... ridiculous."
Faced with pressure that would suffocate any public figure.
Lin Feng simply gave a mysterious smile that caught all the reporters off guard.
He wasn't angry.
He didn't evade.
He didn't even show a hint of panic.
He just leaned back in his chair with composure, like an outsider enjoying the absurd play he had directed himself.
The press conference fell silent for a moment because of his silence.
The reporters were a bit dazed.
This young man's reaction was completely beyond their expectations.
He wasn't supposed to be like this.
He shouldn't be so calm.
Just when everyone thought he would choose silence as his defense.
Lin Feng moved.
He reached out and gently pulled the microphone in front of him to his lips.
This simple action made the hearts of every reporter in the room leap into their throats!
He was going to respond!
Lin Feng's gaze slowly swept across everyone below the stage.
Then, he spoke.
His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.
"I'm grateful for their presence."
"They are both exceptional people."
Standard, formulaic, airtight PR speak.
The reporters below showed disappointed expressions.
That's it?
They had made such a huge fuss just to wait for such a piece of meaningless fluff?
However, just as they were preparing to strike again.
Lin Feng shifted gears.
He looked at the disappointed crowd of reporters, the smile on his lips becoming more playful.
He paused.
Giving everyone enough time for their emotions to build.
Then, in a tone that was slightly teasing yet filled with absolute control, he dropped the real bombshell.
"As for the answer you want..."
His voice paused again here.
The entire press conference was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Everyone held their breath, staring intently at his lips.
Lin Feng enjoyed the thrill of having the whole world in the palm of his hand.
Slowly, word by word, he announced the final judgment day that would drive all of America crazy.
"Game 7."
"I will give everyone a final answer."
Boom!!!
When the words "final answer" came out of Lin Feng's mouth!
The entire press conference felt like a nuclear bomb had been dropped!
It completely exploded!
All the reporters went crazy!
They surged toward the dais, shouting and pressing for more!
"What answer?!"
"Is it the outcome of the game, or the destination of your heart?!"
"Lin! Please explain!"
But it no longer mattered.
Lin Feng had already stood up.
Surrounded by dozens of security personnel, he left the chaotic, out-of-control scene without looking back.
Leaving behind a massive cliffhanger filled with endless speculation that would keep all of America awake all night.
His words were truly brilliant.
He didn't admit to anything, nor did he deny anything.
He simply used ambiguity to successfully bind the suspense of the basketball game and his romantic life tightly together!
He had elevated the anticipation for Game 7 to an unprecedented, terrifying height!
If he won Game 7, he would be a god!
The dual king of both the court and the arena of romance!
If he lost Game 7, he would be nailed to the pillar of shame and become the laughingstock of the world!
Heaven and Hell.
All decided by a single game... In the player tunnel, the noise was shut out.
Lin Feng walked quickly under security escort.
The aftereffects of [ZONE] mode made his legs feel as heavy as lead.
The adrenaline was fading, and a wave of immense exhaustion washed over him.
But he knew there was no turning back.
Game 7.
He must win.
Not for anyone else, but for himself.
At a corner in the tunnel, he stopped and signaled for the security personnel to wait ahead.
He needed a moment to himself.
Leaning against the cold wall, he took his phone out of his pocket.
The screen lit up.
Two text messages, sent almost simultaneously, lay quietly on the screen.
One was from a number he knew by heart.
It was Yinna.
The message was simple, just four words.
"I'm waiting for you."
Looking at those words, Lin Feng felt a slight sting in his heart.
It was a complex emotion mixed with guilt, responsibility, and a hint of irritation.
Before he could reply.
Another text message popped up.
It was from an unknown number, but Lin Feng knew exactly who the sender was.
The content of that message was even more direct and assertive.
"I'm waiting for you in San Antonio."
Chapter 142: The Final Choice! Kobe's Warning!
On the cold phone screen lay two diametrically opposed messages.
One was a soft concern.
The other was a fiery challenge.
Lin Feng leaned against the cold wall of the player tunnel. His adrenaline was rapidly receding, and the immense exhaustion brought by the [ZONE] mode pressed against every inch of his bones like the pressure of the deep sea.
He could feel his fingers, which were holding the phone, aching slightly.
He was waiting.
Waiting for that frantic fighting spirit, which had burned from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, to cool down slightly.
He needed to think.
But not about those two women.
Security personnel waited quietly not far away, cordoning off a small space that belonged only to him.
A few minutes later, Lin Feng put away his phone without replying to either message.
He straightened up and walked toward the locker room.
The moment he pushed open the locker room door...
The room, which had been as noisy as a nightclub, suddenly went silent for half a second.
Nick Young's exaggerated celebratory pose froze mid-air.
Dwight Howard's laughing face also sobered up a bit.
Everyone's eyes turned toward him in unison.
Those looks were complicated.
It was no longer the simple admiration for a powerful teammate from before.
There was something more in them.
There was awe, as if they were looking at a monster stepped out of a myth.
There was envy, a jealousy of his ability to ignite a media firestorm across America.
And, of course, a hint of worry.
They were all professional players; they knew all too well the consequences of being bogged down by off-court news.
Especially this kind of romantic scandal, which was enough to give any man a massive headache.
Lin Feng ignored these complex gazes and walked straight to his locker.
Just then, a hand rested on his shoulder.
It was Kobe.
In the locker room, he was the only one whose gaze lacked those impurities.
It was pure appreciation between warriors.
Kobe patted his shoulder and lowered his voice, speaking with a gravity that only Lin Feng could truly understand.
"Kid, don't get distracted by off-court matters."
"Remember, for us, the only thing that matters is G7."
Kobe's warning was like a precision key, instantly locking away the slight wavering that had just arisen in Lin Feng's heart.
Lin Feng nodded heavily.
"I understand."
He knew this better than anyone.
In the arena of love, there could be countless answers.
But on the basketball court, there was only one outcome.
Win, or lose everything... On the way back to the apartment, Lin Feng sat in the back row of the bus wearing headphones, isolating himself from the paparazzi's flashes outside the window and the chatter of his teammates.
His mind was a complete blank.
The aftereffects of the [ZONE] mode made him want nothing more than to throw himself into ice water and let his scorching body cool down completely.
The bus stopped in front of the apartment building.
Lin Feng stepped off and looked up at that familiar window.
The light was on.
He knew Yinna was there.
Waiting for him.
Perhaps she was preparing a celebratory midnight snack for him.
Or perhaps she was waiting, full of grievances, for an explanation, a hug.
Lin Feng stood downstairs for a long time.
Ultimately, he did not go up.
He turned and walked toward another apartment, his own.
He needed to be alone to calm down.
To recover his strength.
And more importantly, to think about that Game 7, the battle that would decide everything.
The apartment was pitch black.
Lin Feng didn't turn on the lights. He felt his way to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of ice water, and downed it in one go.
The icy liquid flowed down his throat and into his stomach.
The heat radiating from his bones was finally suppressed a little.
He threw himself onto the sofa, and the image of a white-haired old man surfaced in his mind.
Gregg Popovich.
Lin Feng knew that in G7, that cunning old man would definitely bring out an even crazier, more targeted defense.
The [Aomine ZONE] that had made him a god today—that kind of unexpected surprise attack—would only work once.
Next time, the San Antonio Spurs' cage would only tighten, and the defensive intensity would be even more suffocating.
He could no longer count on breaking through the opponent in the same way.
Lin Feng lay on the bed and closed his eyes.
His exhausted body wanted to fall asleep quickly.
But his mind was exceptionally clear.
In his mind, two distinct powers belonging to him surfaced uncontrollably.
One was a green, perfectly precise arc.
That was [Shintaro Midorima's Full-Court Three-Pointer].
It was the pinnacle of order.
An absolute, cold shooting percentage built upon thousands of repetitions.
This power reminded him of Yinna.
Her protection and her warmth were like the most stable foundation, allowing him to always find a reliable, final coordinate in the chaotic arena.
And the other power.
Was a violent wildness, flickering with black lightning.
That was [Aomine Daiki's Unrestricted Shot].
It was the pinnacle of rule-breaking.
A free, wild offense that followed physical instinct completely and defied all logic.
This power reminded him of Taylor.
Her passion, her initiative, and her boldness were like a flame, igniting the most primitive desire for destruction and conquest deep within him.
One was protection.
One was conquest.
These two powers corresponded to Yinna's warmth and Taylor's passion, respectively.
They were like ice and fire, distinct yet intertwined within his body.
Lin Feng suddenly had a thought that even he found crazy.
In G7, facing Popovich's precise war machine.
Relying on just one power might not be enough.
Whether it was ultimate order or ultimate destruction.
That old man might find a way to crack either one.
But... what if... what if these two seemingly contradictory powers were combined?
What would happen when ultimate precision met ultimate wildness?
This thought was like a bolt of lightning, splitting open his chaotic thoughts!
But following that was even deeper confusion.
How to combine them?
It was simply impossible!
One was a shooting machine requiring absolute calm and focus.
The other was a court beast that needed to completely unleash its wildness and follow instinct.
This required a catalyst.
A miraculous epiphany that could only be born under extreme pressure... The next day.
On the chartered flight to San Antonio.
The Lakers players had various expressions.
Some were excitedly discussing Game 7.
Some were whispering about the media storm involving Lin Feng, Taylor, and Yinna, which had already reached its peak online.
As for Lin Feng, he just sat quietly in the window seat.
He didn't look at his phone, nor did he listen to music.
He just kept his eyes closed, immersing his entire mind in thoughts about the game.
He hadn't contacted either of the two divas.
Because he had already made his decision.
The answers those reporters wanted.
The ending that audiences around the world wanted to see.
All questions had only one outlet.
Lin Feng knew that victory on the court was the only key to solving everything.
Chapter 143: Decisive Battle in the Holy City! The Strangling of the System!
On the chartered flight to San Antonio, no one spoke.
The air was filled with a heavy silence, like the calm before a storm.
Lin Feng leaned against the window, looking at the unfamiliar Texas land below.
His phone had long been turned off.
He hadn't replied to either of those two messages.
Because he knew that any verbal response at this moment would seem pale and weak.
He had already made his choice.
The only final answer that could solve all problems was hidden in this silver and black city that was about to face him.
It was hidden in this silver and black city that was about to face him.
G7, the Game Seven showdown.
The entire city of San Antonio felt like a mobilized military fortress.
From the airport to the hotel, fans wearing Spurs jerseys could be seen everywhere along the streets.
Their faces showed no frustration after the crushing defeat in G6, only a cold, hateful determination.
They watched the Lakers' bus with eyes that looked like they were watching a group of death row inmates about to walk onto the execution ground.
AT&T Center.
The whistle for the start of the game had not yet sounded.
But the atmosphere inside the arena was already tense to the point of solidification.
This was the Spurs' home court.
It was the NBA's most terrifying graveyard for visiting teams.
In every seat sat a silent, silver-and-black soul.
They didn't let out deafening boos; instead, they shrouded every Lakers player on the court with a nearly physical resentment.
Popovich had indeed made adjustments.
The 'Cage' tactic that Lin Feng had completely shattered in G6 was gone.
In its place was the Spurs' most classic and proudest team defense system.
It was an inescapable net woven with countless rotations and help defenses.
Unlike the 'Cage,' it didn't use three people to block you.
It used five.
It used the movement and chemistry of the entire team to compress your every offensive space.
It told you in a more advanced and precise way: here, individual heroism doesn't work.
The Lakers' first possession.
Lin Feng held the ball at the top of the arc.
He didn't immediately enter a crazy individual attack mode like in G6.
He knew his stamina was the most precious resource in this long battle of attrition.
He couldn't fire all his bullets in the first quarter.
He just dribbled the ball calmly.
Then, he activated a power he had never fully revealed to the world.
At that moment, his vision underwent a strange change.
The positions of all ten players on the court, their running routes, and even the muscular exertion tendencies of their next movements...
Everything appeared clearly in his mind like snippets of pre-written code.
Danny Green was preparing to come from the wing, around a screen by Gasol, to double-team him.
Zero point five seconds before Green started moving,
Lin Feng moved.
A simple yet perfectly timed bounce pass!
The basketball precisely bypassed Leonard's outstretched long arms and avoided Duncan's impending defensive rotation.
Like a cruise missile, it landed steadily in the hands of the rolling Gasol.
Wide open!
Gasol easily finished the layup.
2-0!
On the Spurs' bench, Popovich's pupils constricted imperceptibly.
That pass... was too precise.
So precise it didn't seem like a prediction a human could make.
It was more like a director who had seen the script in advance.
Over the next few possessions,
Lin Feng completely transformed into a commander on the court.
He was no longer the scoring machine racking up points like crazy.
Instead, he used one incredible pass after another that pierced through the Spurs' entire defensive system to tear the opponent apart.
Nash caught the ball for an open mid-range jumper.
Swish!
Howard caught the ball for a dunk under the basket.
Got it!
Artest caught the ball for a corner three!
He got that too!
Under his orchestration, the Lakers played a fluid team offense.
On the sidelines, D'Antoni watched with wide eyes.
He had no idea when Lin Feng had evolved this passing ability comparable to Magic Johnson!
Kobe sat on the bench watching Lin Feng's performance, an imperceptible smile appearing on his serious face.
This kid always brings surprises.
However,
The Spurs were, after all, the Spurs.
They possessed the toughest nerves in the league and the most stable tactical execution.
After a brief moment of chaos, they quickly steadied themselves.
Parker used his signature teardrop and spins to break through the Lakers' defense.
Ginóbili's scimitar-like passes always found the most lethal gaps.
And Duncan remained the stone buddha who never made mistakes; every one of his bank shots under the basket was textbook, precise, and stable.
Both sides went back and forth.
The score remained neck and neck.
The situation on the court fell into a suffocating state of stalemate.
35-35.
48-47.
62-63.
Every offensive play and every defensive stop felt like walking a tightrope.
Every shot and every steal could completely change the final outcome of the entire series.
Time flew by in this suffocating battle of attrition.
The game was dragged into the fourth quarter.
Lin Feng's stamina had begun to decline noticeably under the constant wear and tear from the Spurs' precise defensive machine.
Sweat dripped from his forehead like broken beads.
Every rise and fall of his chest was accompanied by heavy breathing.
He could feel his legs becoming heavier and heavier.
Only five minutes remained in the game.
The bright red numbers on the screen were like a sharp knife stabbing into the hearts of all Lakers fans.
90-90.
Tied!
Spurs' ball.
After several rounds of ball movement, it found Danny Green in the corner.
An open look.
Green didn't hesitate, letting it fly!
Swish!
The three-pointer went in!
93-90!
The entire AT&T Center erupted at that moment!
The silver and black resentment that had been suppressed all game turned into a landslide of cheers!
Home-court advantage showed its most ferocious side at this most critical moment.
Beep—!
The Lakers called a timeout.
Lin Feng walked off the court and slumped onto the bench.
He covered his head with a towel, his chest heaving violently like someone about to drown.
His stamina had reached its breaking point.
His vision even started to go dark in waves.
His teammates in the locker area were also silent, their faces filled with gravity and exhaustion.
Pressure, like a tangible object, weighed on everyone's hearts.
Just then,
A pair of black sneakers stopped in front of him.
Lin Feng looked up.
It was Kobe.
There was not a trace of panic on Kobe's face.
His eyes were still like an unsheathed blade, incredibly firm and sharp.
He leaned down, looking into Lin Feng's eyes, which were starting to lose focus.
He didn't say any words to boost morale.
He just spoke calmly, in a tone of passing the torch that only the two of them could understand.
"Finish them in your own way."
Lin Feng's body jolted.
He looked at Kobe's resolute face and the unquestionable trust in his eyes.
The spark in his chest that was about to go out was ignited once more.
He nodded.
Then, he stood up.
The timeout ended.
Lin Feng stepped back onto the battlefield that would decide life or death.
The eyes of the whole world were focused on him.
At the commentator's table, Barkley's voice was full of anticipation.
"Is he going to activate that mode?! The Beast Mode that completely destroyed the Spurs in G6!"
Everyone thought he would activate the unstoppable [Aomine ZONE] from G6.
Using the most violent individual ability to respond to the Spurs' team strangulation.
However,
Lin Feng made a choice that no one expected.
Chapter 144: Dual Zones! The Beast and the Sharpshooter!
The timeout ended, and the Lakers inbounded the ball.
Lin Feng received the ball.
The eyes of the world were focused on him.
What would he do?
Would he tear apart the defense with his unpredictable passes, like in the first half?
Or would he activate that 'beast mode' that slays all in its path, like in G6?
The Spurs' defense was fully deployed.
Kawhi Leonard, like a vulture with outstretched talons, clung tightly to him.
Behind him was the precise yet cold strangling net, woven by Popovich himself and operating for twenty years.
No retreat.
No escape.
Lin Feng stood at the top of the arc, dribbling the ball.
There was no expression on his face.
The last trace of human emotion in his tired eyes was rapidly fading.
He looked up at the hoop.
Then.
He moved.
No warning.
No probing.
His body suddenly sank!
The next second, his entire being transformed into a black lightning bolt!
That violent, utterly unreasonable, destructive power once again descended upon this court!
"It's that mode!"
At the commentary desk, Barkley sprang from his chair!
"The Aomine ZONE! He's activated the Aomine ZONE!"
Leonard's pupils suddenly contracted!
He felt that what was before him was no longer a person.
But a peerless fierce beast, breaking free from all shackles and rushing out from the ancient wilderness!
His proud 'Death Grip' was as fragile as paper in the face of that pure, ultimate, wild explosiveness!
Just a moment of contact!
Lin Feng, with a simple and brutal crossover, forcefully bulldozed past him!
A gap was torn in the defense!
The Spurs' rotation was lightning fast!
Ginóbili and Tony Parker frantically converged from both sides!
They intended to close this door before Lin Feng could penetrate the paint!
However, Lin Feng's speed was even faster than they imagined!
Like a red-hot blade slicing through butter, he slipped through the gap between the two of them!
He charged into the Spurs' heartland!
The last line of defense.
the stone buddha of San Antonio, Tim Duncan, was already waiting there.
His face held an unprecedented solemnity.
He spread his arms, like a mountain, blocking Lin Feng's path.
At the same time, Leonard and Ginóbili, who had been bypassed, were already chasing from behind!
A mountain ahead!
Pursuers behind!
A lethal cage, formed by three people, instantly took shape!
Popovich clenched his fists on the sidelines!
He had accounted for everything!
He knew Lin Feng would activate beast mode!
This trap was prepared for him!
No matter how fast or strong you are, you can't break through three defenders at once!
You're dead!
In the stands.
Yinna's heart was in her throat; she tightly covered her mouth.
Taylor Swift's confident smile also slightly froze.
Just when everyone thought Lin Feng was about to fall into this inescapable trap, ending this offense with a clumsy turnover or a forcefully blocked layup,
Lin Feng, in this desperate situation,
Made a crazy move that instantly crashed the brains of everyone in the world!
He jumped!
But he wasn't looking at the hoop!
Nor was he looking in the direction of any teammate!
In mid-air, with an extremely awkward posture, he forcefully passed the basketball in his hands behind him, towards the empty right three-point line!
He passed it out!
A pass to thin air!
"What is he doing?!"
"A turnover?!"
"Is he crazy?! At a time like this?!"
The whole world gasped in disbelief!
Popovich's face also showed a look of astonishment.
Too much pressure led to a misjudgment?
However.
Just a second later.
A scene that Popovich, and the entire world, would never forget, occurred!
The instant Lin Feng passed the ball.
The flashing, violent black electricity in his eyes quietly extinguished.
In its place was a cold, precise, emotionless green light, like a surgical knife!
The beast exited.
The sharpshooter entered!
His body, in mid-air, completed a reverse turn that completely defied the laws of physics!
The three Spurs defenders, who had collapsed to the basket, still had all their weight and attention focused on that 'pass to air' basketball!
Their minds went blank for half a second!
It was this half-second!
Lin Feng landed and ran back!
His footsteps, like the most precise metronome, landed perfectly on the spot where the basketball he had passed would fall!
He received the ball!
The entire movement was smooth and seamless!
As if rehearsed a thousand times!
And Leonard, who had just reacted, let out a beastly roar, like a runaway fighter jet, frantically pouncing towards him!
That gigantic, sky-covering palm once again enveloped his vision!
But it was too late!
The instant he received the ball.
Lin Feng's body had already adjusted to the most perfect, textbook-like shooting posture!
There was no expression on his face.
In his eyes, there was only the hoop.
He ignored Leonard's block, which would make any shooter tremble with fear!
Hand up!
Ball down!
That green light, in mid-air, drew a perfect rainbow arc that brought despair to all Spurs fans!
One offense!
Seamless switching between two Zones!
First, using the beast's ferocity to tear apart the defense, attract a double-team, and create a space that didn't exist!
Then, using the sharpshooter's precision to deliver the most fatal, finishing blow to the opponent!
This was no longer basketball!
This was art!
It was Lin Feng's unique, ultimate art, a perfect blend of violence and precision!
"Swish!"
A crisp, pleasant sound of the basketball swishing through the net.
In this noisy arena, it sounded like a death knell, ringing in everyone's souls!
The AT&T Center fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone stared blankly at the slowly descending basketball.
Staring at the figure in mid-air, maintaining a perfect shooting posture.
Staring at the shocking, changed number on the scoreboard.
93:93!
Tied!
Only 24 seconds left!
"Roar!!!"
The Lakers' bench erupted!
Kobe suddenly stood up from his seat!
For the first time, his perpetually resolute face showed an excited smile, almost bordering on ecstasy!
He clenched his fists tightly!
"Roar!!!"
Like a lion king, he let out the most primal, most insane roar for the new king he had chosen!
And in two corners of the stands.
Yinna's tears once again burst forth.
But this time, it wasn't heartache, nor sadness.
It was pure, uncontrollable pride!
Taylor Swift, meanwhile, slowly sat down.
She put her sunglasses back on, concealing her blue eyes that burned with the flame of conquest.
The corner of her mouth curled into a satisfied smile that only she understood.
The final answer had been revealed.
On the court.
Popovich called his last timeout of the game.
He looked at the number 24 figure, who was being frantically surrounded by his teammates.
On his old face, full of wisdom and cunning, for the first time, a deep sense of powerlessness, named 'resignation,' emerged.
He lost.
The most precise war machine he had built, exhausting his lifelong basketball wisdom.
Today, it was completely shattered by a monster who possessed both the power of a beast and a god.
Completely shattered.
The timeout ended, with 24 seconds left in the game.
The Spurs had the opportunity for the last possession.
Win, or go home.
The whole world held its breath.
Chapter 145: The Black Eight Miracle and a New Storm
The timeout ended, with only 24 seconds left in the game.
The San Antonio Spurs had the last possession.
Win, or go home.
The whole world held its breath.
Popovich stood on the sidelines, and for the first time, a deep sense of resignation, a feeling of 'acceptance of fate,' appeared on his wise and cunning old face.
He had lost.
The most precise war machine he had built with a lifetime of basketball wisdom.
Today, it was utterly shattered by a monster who possessed both the strength of a beast and a god.
Completely shattered.
But he was still the iron-blooded coach.
He set up one last, perhaps the most classic, Spurs-style play.
The ball was inbounded.
To Tony Parker.
The French Sports Car began his final charge.
However, what awaited him was a frantic, relentless defensive net.
Kobe, like a bloodthirsty black mamba, clung to him tightly!
He used his chest, his arms, and his body, burning with its last energy, to block every inch of Parker's advance!
Parker tried to change direction!
Nash's figure appeared like a ghost on his flank!
The two formed a trap!
Parker was forced to stop!
He could only pass the ball awkwardly to Ginóbili on the perimeter, just before the double-team fully formed!
The Demon Blade caught the ball!
Only five seconds remained!
In front of him was Artest's fierce face!
No time left!
No chance!
Ginóbili could only force a jump, twisting his body in mid-air to shoot the ball!
The entire AT&T Center fell silent at that moment.
Everyone stood, craning their necks, watching the basketball that carried the hopes of San Antonio's entire season.
It arced through the air, drawing a not-so-beautiful trajectory.
Then.
"Bang!"
A dull thud as the basketball hit the front of the rim!
Miss!
"Roar!"
Dwight Howard, like a giant beast, leaped high under the basket, firmly securing this game-deciding rebound with his massive hands!
The game is over!
The final buzzer blared, piercingly, at this moment!
"Beep—!!!"
The silver and black ocean of the AT&T Center completely froze.
On the other side.
The Lakers' bench erupted like a volcano!
They rushed onto the court!
They bumped each other's chests!
They let out meaningless, beast-like roars!
Victory!
A great victory, clawed back from the brink of hell!
As the eighth seed in the Western Conference, they had toppled the regular-season league-leading San Antonio Spurs on their home court in Game 7!
Another great 'Black Eight Miracle,' worthy of being recorded in NBA history, was born!
All the cameras and lights were now frantically focused on these miracle-making victors.
And the man who created all of this.
Lin Feng.
The moment the final whistle blew.
His vision went black.
The power that had sustained him in creating a miracle vanished instantly, like a spine being pulled out.
Every cell in his body cried out in exhaustion.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed straight onto the cold floor.
Completely exhausted.
"Lin!"
Kobe was the first to rush over, trying to pull Lin Feng up.
But the next second, Howard, Nick Young, Gasol... all the Lakers players surged forward like a tide!
They completely engulfed the figure kneeling on the ground!
They piled on top of him, expressing their ecstatic victory in the most crude and primal way!
At the post-game press conference.
Lin Feng barely managed to sit in a chair, supported by the Team Doctor.
He was exhausted, his face pale, but his eyes were astonishingly bright.
He knew.
He had given the strongest, 'final answer' with his performance on the court.
As for the commotion off the court, he temporarily didn't want to deal with it.
At the moment the game ended.
In two corners of the stands, the two women who had attracted the world's attention both chose to leave quietly.
Yinna, protected by her Agent, rushed out of the arena with her head down, not accepting any interviews, but her slightly red eyes said it all.
Taylor Swift, surrounded by bodyguards, turned gracefully and also left without a word.
The two divas, with the same silence, left the world's media with an even bigger suspense, full of endless imagination.
Lin Feng's phone lay quietly in the locker room cabinet.
There were two unread messages on the screen.
He didn't open them.
He knew that although the war on the court was over.
Another war, one that belonged only to him and them, had just begun.
At the press conference, the reporters' questions once again strayed from basketball.
"Lin! Congratulations on creating the Black Eight Miracle! But does this mean you've made a final choice between the two ladies?"
A reporter eagerly extended the microphone.
Lin Feng glanced at him but didn't answer the question.
He just took the microphone and looked at Kobe beside him.
"This victory doesn't belong to me alone."
His voice was hoarse with fatigue but exceptionally firm.
"It belongs to our entire team, to every brother who fought until the last second on the court."
"Especially, it belongs to him."
Lin Feng placed his hand on Kobe's shoulder.
"He told me how to finish the game."
Kobe looked at him, a relieved smile on his face.
The reporters were clearly not satisfied with this answer and wanted to continue asking about Taylor and Yinna.
Lin Feng, however, simply put down the microphone and leaned back in his chair.
He closed his eyes and ended the press conference with a simple sentence.
"I just want to rest now."
...He really needed to rest.
But he knew that he didn't have much time left to rest.
That night, Lin Feng's phone finally turned on.
He eventually opened those two messages.
Yinna: "I'm waiting for you in Los Angeles."
Taylor: "I'm waiting for you in Oklahoma."
Looking at these two messages, Lin Feng didn't reply; he just turned off his phone screen.
He knew he had no retreat.
Victory on the court was the only key to solving all problems.
He turned on the TV; an NBA special program was frantically replaying the thrilling Game 7.
And at the bottom of the screen, a new matchup scrolled.
Western Conference Finals.
Los Angeles Lakers VS Oklahoma Thunder.
Lin Feng looked at those two familiar names, his gaze becoming extremely solemn.
Kevin Durant.
Russell Westbrook.
That explosive duo, at the peak of their careers, overflowing with talent.
One was a four-time Scoring Champion, the unsolvable Grim Reaper.
The other was a physically explosive, aggressive Ninja Turtle.
He knew it would be an even more terrifying storm than the San Antonio Spurs.
And just then.
Lin Feng felt something deep within his body quietly awakening.
It was a third power that had always been dormant within him.
It was not like [Midorimas Full-Court Three-Pointer], which represented ultimate rules and precision.
Nor was it like [Aomine's Unorthodox Shot], which represented ultimate destruction and wildness.
This power symbolized absolute control!