118: The final gamble!

The game's suspense was dragged into the final quarter.

The few minutes of the inter-quarter break felt incredibly long for the Lakers players.

In the locker room, the relaxed and enthusiastic atmosphere from the first half had vanished without a trace.

In its place was a suffocating gloom.

No one spoke.

Only Howard's heavy breathing, sounding like a broken bellows, could be heard.

Along with the sound of Gasol constantly wiping sweat from his face with a towel.

Everyone knew very well what that collapse in the third quarter meant.

It meant that Popovich's gamble was tilting wildly in the direction he had envisioned.

The Spurs had pulled them back from the edge of the cliff.

Now, both sides were back on the same starting line.

But on the Lakers' side, the players' physical stamina and mental state had been drained to an extremely dangerous critical point.

"Beep—!"

The whistle for the start of the fourth quarter sounded sharply.

It was like flipping the switch on a gallows.

The final twelve minutes, a bloody war of attrition, officially began.

The Spurs' first attack.

Tony Parker dribbled the ball unhurriedly at the top of the arc, but his eyes were observing Lin Feng's position.

Leonard and Green, like two tireless hounds, were still tightly entangled around Lin Feng.

The movements of the three of them occupied almost half the court.

The Lakers' offense once again turned into a difficult four-on-three.

But this time, the remaining three defensive players for the Spurs had raised their defensive intensity and focus to a whole new level.

Duncan guarded the interior, making it airtight.

Splitter and Boris Diaw were like two moving walls, frantically rotating to cover every possible open spot.

Artest received the ball in the corner, and Boris Diaw was on him almost within a second.

He was forced to take a rushed shot.

"Clang!"

The basketball bounced off the rim.

The entire AT&T Center erupted in a mountain-shaking, tsunami-like cheer!

Transition.

The Spurs' offense also became exceptionally patient.

They no longer pursued unreasonable quick three-pointers like they did in the third quarter.

Instead, they tirelessly drained the Lakers' already depleted defensive energy through repeated ball movement.

Twenty seconds.

Twenty-one seconds.

Twenty-two seconds.

The shot clock was about to run out.

The ball returned to Parker's hands once again.

Facing Blake's defense, he accelerated, changed direction, and with a classic spin move, slipped into the paint!

Faced with the help defense of Howard and Gasol, he adjusted mid-air with a double-clutch, avoided the block, and sent the ball into the basket!

87:85!

The Spurs had taken the lead again!

The atmosphere on the court was tense to the extreme.

Every breath brought a searing pain.

Lin Feng felt like his lungs were a furnace about to catch fire.

He had led two defenders on a chase for over three full quarters.

His legs were as heavy as if they were filled with mercury; every step required an immense effort of will.

He could feel his stamina draining into an abyss at an alarming rate.

Lakers' offense.

The ball was still moving with difficulty.

Lin Feng gave his all to create a fleeting opportunity for Gasol at the free-throw line once more.

Gasol received the ball.

He jumped.

But his arms were already somewhat stiff from the massive physical exertion.

"Clang!"

Another brick!

"Defense!"

"Defense!"

Nearly twenty thousand fans at the AT&T Center stood up!

They waved their towels, using all their strength to cheer for the home team!

The wave of sound was like tangible pressure, looming over the hearts of every Lakers player.

Their shooting percentage began to drop sharply.

The offense came to a standstill once again.

Meanwhile, the Spurs, led by Parker and Ginóbili, played steadily.

The point gap was ruthlessly widened bit by bit.

89:85.

91:86.

Time was ticking away, second by second.

Popovich stood on the sidelines with his hands in his pockets, his expression still unchanged.

But in his deep-set eyes, there was a coldness that suggested his schemes were succeeding.

His gamble seemed to be paying off in the final moments of the game.

What he bet on was that Lin Feng's stamina would be completely exhausted by this relentless defense!

When there was only a minute and a half left in the game.

Tony Parker once again made a ghostly driving layup!

93:91!

The Spurs led the Lakers by 2 points!

D'Antoni called the Lakers' second-to-last timeout of the game.

Lin Feng walked off the court.

Instead of going to the coach, he plopped down directly onto a chair at the end of the bench.

He bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.

Sweat dripped from his chin, one drop after another, hitting the floor and splashing into tiny blossoms.

His chest was heaving violently.

The whole world seemed to be spinning.

His teammates gathered around, everyone's eyes focused on him.

D'Antoni's tactical board was filled with complex lines, but he knew those things were meaningless in the current situation.

The team had reached its limit.

Now, it was his turn.

It was the turn of the team's only and final hero.

Lin Feng didn't look up.

He simply closed his eyes, completely blocking out all the external noise.

The coach's shouting.

The sound of his teammates' breathing.

The deafening clamor in the arena.

Everything vanished.

In his mind, only the basket remained.

Along with the most primal, almost insane desire for victory.

He knew that with his current physical strength.

It was only enough to support him opening [ZONE] once.

The final time.

This one and only chance had to be used at the most critical moment for a killing blow.

The timeout ended.

Lin Feng stood up.

He took a towel from a staff member and wiped his face.

When he looked up again.

The fatigue in his eyes had disappeared.

In its place was a heart-palpitating calm, like the deep sea.

The game continued.

Spurs' offense: Duncan played Gasol one-on-one in the low post, but his turnaround jumper missed.

Howard boxed out Splitter tightly and grabbed this crucial defensive rebound!

Lakers' offense.

Artest drew a foul from Ginóbili while driving.

He walked to the free-throw line.

One of two free throws made!

93:92!

In the final 30 seconds of the game, the Lakers narrowed the gap to 1 point through free throws.

The Spurs missed their final attack, and the Lakers grabbed the rebound!

The ball was handed to Lin Feng; facing the frantic double-team of Leonard and Green, he once again activated [Midorima ZONE]!