Phoenix, Arizona.
Deandre Ayton, watching the Clippers–Celtics game, fell into deep thought.
Kai Chen's terrifying efficiency exceeded expectations, yet somehow still felt inevitable.
He simply couldn't believe Kai was doing this against the league's best defensive team.
It wasn't just Ayton.
Kai's dominance on both ends in the first quarter also drew praise from fellow rookie Luka Dončić.
"As expected of Kai—he's ridiculous."
Even so, Dončić rubbed his hands together. "Only by beating someone like him does Rookie of the Year really mean something."
Fire burned in his chest. He couldn't wait for his next game.
If Kai was this explosive, Luka refused to fall behind.
"Damn, Boston is really strong."
At Oracle Arena, Durant muttered the words while watching with Curry.
Their focus differed from Ayton and Dončić.
They weren't just watching Kai—they saw how Boston stayed locked in despite his explosion.
More importantly, the Celtics clearly weren't even in playoff mode.
Their true strength ran far deeper.
"Coach K… is this really Kai Chen's level?"
Inside Duke's practice gym, Zion Williamson fell silent after speaking.
With what Kai showed in that first quarter, even Zion's historic athleticism wouldn't let him see Kai's taillights right now.
Coach K didn't answer directly.
"If your goal is Kai Chen," he said, "then think about how you'd perform against a championship-level team like Boston."
"Or if you swapped places with Kai—could you do what he's doing?"
"…Hmm."
After a long pause, Zion stood up, hugged the ball, and headed back to the court.
"Coach Tom, let's add shooting today."
The Clippers–Celtics game no longer mattered to him.
Training did.
Boston, TD Garden.
During the timeout, Stevens laid out adjustments.
"Horford, Hayward—extend your defensive range. Don't give Kai open looks."
"Force him inside the arc. Make him finish in traffic."
Despite emphasizing perimeter defense, Stevens didn't call for double teams.
In his view, a young team like the Clippers would crack eventually.
The game resumed with both benches logging heavy minutes.
For the Clippers, Lou Williams, Harrell, and Jonathan Simmons kept the offense steady.
For Boston, Hayward led Morris, Baynes, and company competently on both ends.
The benches traded blows.
For fans, though, it was torture.
After the first-quarter fireworks, the dip in intensity was hard to stomach.
The broadcast even caught fans on their phones, yawning.
"Beep!"
With six minutes left before halftime, the score was 50:53.
The Clippers trailed by three.
Timeout.
When play resumed, the crowd snapped back to attention.
Boston's starters rose as one.
On the Clippers' bench, Kai stood up, peeled off his jacket, exchanged a few words with Carmelo, and checked in.
"Both starting units are back!"
"Boston leads by three—can they extend it?"
Irving crossed half-court and swung it to Tatum on the left wing.
As Kai closed out, Tatum rose and fired.
"Swish!"
The shot dropped clean.
"Come on, Kai!"
Tatum smirked. "You're not the only one who can shoot."
Kai nodded, smiling. "I'll give you one, for charity right?"
Tatum ignored him and walked away.
Kai didn't let it go.
Taking Beverley's pass, Kai probed forward, drew Tatum in, then stepped back beyond the arc.
"Swish!"
Another three.
Kai spread his hands. "So, Jayson—got the guts?"
Tatum just smiled.
Next trip, he fed Horford inside.
Horford danced around Lopez and laid it in.
Kai answered immediately.
Using Jeff Green's screen, he caught Carmelo's pass and fired.
Tatum barely slipped through the screen before the ball was already gone.
"Swish!"
Then came more.
A vicious change of direction left Tatum behind.
Kai exploded to the rim.
"Boom!"
Horford's help meant nothing.
58:58!
Eight straight points out of the timeout.
Tie game.
On the sideline, Stevens' expression finally hardened.
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