119: The art of 0.01 seconds!

The ball was passed to Lin Feng. Facing the frantic double-team from Leonard and Green, he activated the [Midorima ZONE] once again!

In that moment, the world before Lin Feng changed.

The noisy AT&T Center, filled with curses and shouts, fell completely silent in his perception.

The frantic, savage expressions on the faces of nearly twenty thousand San Antonio Spurs fans solidified into a static painting.

On the sidelines, Popovich's expressionless face and D'Antoni's anxious roaring both turned into silent movies.

The flow of time in his world was forcibly slowed down tenfold, perhaps even a hundredfold.

He could clearly see a drop of sweat sliding down Leonard's temple, breaking down into finer mist in the air.

He could clearly see Danny Green's fingertips trembling slightly from exerting maximum force.

He could hear every heavy and powerful beat of the heart in his chest.

Kawhi Leonard and Danny Green were like two massive, flesh-and-blood gates rapidly closing.

They squeezed toward him from both the left and right directions.

Their arms spread out, forming an airtight net.

Their bodies leaned forward, sealing off all his routes for advancing and lateral movement.

This was a perfect, textbook defensive trap, enough to make any superstar scorer feel despair.

While activating the [Midorima ZONE], the [Eye of the Heavenly Emperor] was also operating at its peak.

In Lin Feng's vision, every subsequent movement of the two opponents transformed into clear, visible future images with trajectory lines.

He “saw” that in 0.3 seconds, Leonard's left hand would cut toward his dribbling path.

He “saw” that in 0.4 seconds, Green's body would fully stick to him, colliding with his chest and causing him to lose balance.

He “saw” that all passing lanes were completely sealed off by the opponents' bodies and arms.

A regular shot? Impossible.

A breakthrough? That was even more of a pipe dream.

A pass? His teammates were tightly guarded by the rest of the San Antonio Spurs defenders, leaving no space to receive the ball.

A dead end.

An absolute checkmate.

In this extreme state, Lin Feng's brain operated rapidly at a speed that surpassed the limits of human comprehension.

Countless offensive options were generated in his mind, only to be vetoed by himself in the next microsecond.

His physical energy was completely exhausted.

This [ZONE] activation was barely achieved by draining the last bit of energy from his body.

He only had one chance.

One opportunity to shoot.

Time was rapidly ticking away on the sideline clock.

2 seconds... 1 second... Just as the two “gates” of Leonard and Green were about to close completely and swallow him whole.

Just as their arms were about to touch the basketball and their bodies were about to collide with his chest.

Lin Feng made a move that brought the entire world to a halt.

A move that would make physics weep.

He did not choose to step back, nor did he choose to jump forcibly.

His body suddenly sank down at an extremely bizarre angle, violating the limits of human joint movement!

His right hand, which was rapidly dribbling the ball, did not slap the ball upward.

Instead, he used his wrist to give the basketball an extreme, ground-hugging lateral push!

The basketball did not bounce.

Like a black sprite imbued with life, it rolled at high speed, almost skimming the floor at an extremely tricky angle, toward Lin Feng's back-left.

Its path precisely slipped through the only unblocked gap—less than five centimeters wide—behind the heel of Kawhi Leonard's moving left foot!

What was that?!

It was a behind-the-back dribble!

An extreme behind-the-back dribble executed when his body was completely locked down and his center of gravity was so low he was practically sitting on the floor!

The magnitude, speed, and angle of this move completely defied the conventional laws of basketball.

It shouldn't have succeeded.

According to the prediction of the [Eye of the Heavenly Emperor], the success rate of this move was less than one percent!

But Lin Feng gambled!

He bet on his absolute control over his body!

He bet on the godlike ball handling achieved in the [ZONE] state!

Before anyone could react, the basketball had passed through Leonard's defensive area and arrived on the other side of his body.

And his left hand was already waiting there.

As if he had practiced it a thousand times, his left palm firmly caught the basketball rolling from behind!

This incredible move created an opportunity for him.

A fleeting shooting window, perhaps lasting only 0.01 seconds!

The moment his left hand caught the ball, Lin Feng made no adjustments.

He didn't even glance toward the hoop!

Following the inertia of the backward force release, his body completely lost balance, and he fell backward.

Just at the last moment before he was about to crash onto the floor.

He used the last ounce of strength in his body, adopting a near-supine shooting posture, and forcefully pushed the basketball in his hands toward the sky!

The release point was only a step away from the Lakers Logo at the center court!

“Thud!”

His back slammed heavily onto the cold, hard floor.

A massive wave of exhaustion and pain, as if threatening to tear him apart, surged madly from every corner of his body.

He didn't even have the strength to lift a finger.

He could only lie there, gasping for breath, staring intently at the basketball he had shot.

The moment the ball left his fingertips.

The clock on the sideline lit up with a dazzling red light, signaling the end of the game time!

“Buzzzzzzz—!”

The final buzzer sounded sharply!

The basketball traced an unimaginable arc through the air, almost touching the arena's ceiling, spanning the entire court!

The entire AT&T Center fell into an eerie, deathly silence at that moment.

Everyone's movements froze.

Fans who were cheering for the San Antonio Spurs' successful defense had their arms still raised in the air, but the smiles on their faces were frozen.

On the sidelines, Popovich, who was about to embrace his assistant coach in celebration, had his hand suspended in mid-air, his face displaying a blankness mixed with confusion and horror—an expression never before seen in his coaching career.

On the bench, all the Los Angeles Lakers players stood up from their chairs, craning their necks and gaping, like worshippers gazing upon a miracle.

At the commentary table, Barkley and Kenny Smith, two legends who had seen it all, stopped breathing, their eyes wide as saucers.

In front of the television.

Taylor Swift put down the guitar in her hand, stood up, and walked to the screen.

The red wine glass in Scarlett Johansson's hand trembled slightly, and the burgundy liquid rippled against the glass wall.

In an apartment, Yoona clasped her hands tightly together and held them against her chest.

Everyone's gaze converged on the orange leather ball.

It flew.

Quietly, solitarily, it flew.

It was like a messenger entrusted with a sacred mission.

It carried Lin Feng's entire physical strength and will.

It carried Kobe's expectations.

It carried the challenge from two Queens.

It carried all the Los Angeles Lakers' unwillingness to submit and all their hope for the season.

Under the dead silence of over eighteen thousand spectators, it crossed the half-court line and passed the free-throw line.

It reached its apex in the air.

And then, it began to descend.

Straight toward the hoop, which had become incredibly clear in everyone's eyes, it flew.