112: Calmness 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 Angeles streaked 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.

Yoona, 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.

Yoona 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?" Yoona 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."

Yoona 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.

Yoona'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.

Yoona 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.