120: The longest flight in history!

The basketball was in the air.

It began to fall.

That ridiculously high arc, spanning the entire court, became the sole focus of the world at this moment.

The roof-raising clamor at the AT&T Center vanished.

Completely vanished.

Nearly twenty thousand San Antonio Spurs fans seemed to have been collectively paused.

Their arms were raised, mouths agape, expressions frozen in the previous second's revelry, prepared for the San Antonio Spurs' successful defense.

But their voices were caught in their throats, unable to utter a single syllable.

Everyone's pupils reflected the descending orange ball.

Time, at this moment, seemed to be stretched into infinitely long threads.

Courtside.

Gregg Popovich, the always stoic veteran coach, had just been about to turn and high-five his assistant coach.

He thought he had won.

His crazy gamble had paid off in the final second.

A tiny, upward curve had even begun to form at the corner of his mouth.

But now, that curve froze.

His hand stopped in mid-air.

His head snapped back, looking at the high-flying basketball.

In his deep-set eyes, for the first time in his coaching career, there appeared a blankness mixed with bewilderment and shock.

On the court.

Tim Duncan, the soul of the San Antonio Spurs, the totem of this city.

He looked up.

His expression had always been so calm, so rock-solid.

But now, that calmness shattered.

For the first time, his gaze wavered.

It was a primal, incomprehensible wavering at what was happening before his eyes.

Tony Parker knelt on the ground, having just celebrated his crucial score.

Kawhi Leonard and Danny Green, the two defenders who had pushed Lin Feng to the brink, stood motionless like two stone statues.

They were the closest to Lin Feng.

They knew best under what impossible circumstances that shot had been taken.

The Los Angeles Lakers bench.

Howard, Gasol, D'Antoni... everyone stood up from their chairs, leaning forward, craning their necks, like a group of believers awaiting a divine oracle.

Their breathing also stopped... Los Angeles.

In Kobe's private mansion.

He had been leaning on the sofa, a glass of water in his hand.

But he had stood up at some point, unaware.

The water glass was casually placed on the coffee table, unnoticed even by himself.

He stood there in front of the huge TV screen, his body taut like a fully drawn bow.

His eyes were fixed on the flying basketball on the screen.

"This kid..."

A very low murmur, laced with disbelief, squeezed from his throat... Lin Feng's apartment.

Yoona tightly covered her mouth with her hands.

She was afraid she might scream due to excessive tension.

The light from the TV screen reflected in her large eyes, tears welled up but stubbornly refused to fall.

She didn't understand tactics.

She only knew that he had fallen.

Then, the ball flew up... In a top-tier music recording studio.

Taylor Swift put down her guitar.

She stood up and walked to the TV, a strange brilliance flickering in her blue eyes.

It was the unique glow, mixed with admiration and a desire to conquer, that comes from witnessing an extraordinary performance beyond expectation... In a luxurious apartment overlooking the city's night view.

Scarlett Johansson swirled the red wine in her glass.

The reddish-brown liquid formed ripples against the glass.

A curve of interest appeared at the corner of her mouth.

She looked at the man lying on the floor and the ball flying in the sky on the screen.

"Mr. Beast..."

Her husky voice echoed softly in the empty living room.

"You always surprise me."

...All eyes converged on that ball.

It passed its apex.

And began to descend.

Its direction was perfectly precise.

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

Without any spin.

Without any deviation.

It was like a precisely guided missile.

"Swish!"

A crisp, pleasant sound of the basketball swishing through the net.

Through the microphone beneath the hoop, it clearly resonated in the dead silent AT&T Center.

The sound wasn't loud.

But it was like a heavy hammer, striking hard at the heart of everyone present!

And through the TV broadcast, it spread throughout the world.

The ball went in.

Below the hoop, the glaring red light of the timer had already lit up.

Buzzer-beater!

Game-winner!

94:93!

The Los Angeles Lakers won!

The AT&T Center fell into three seconds of absolute silence.

It was a suffocating quiet, where even heartbeats could be heard.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

"Roar-------!"

A huge, beast-like roar suddenly erupted from the Los Angeles Lakers bench!

It was Dwight Howard!

Like a mad bull, he was the first to charge onto the court!

Immediately after, the entire Los Angeles Lakers bench erupted!

Gasol rushed onto the court with his arms raised!

Artest wildly waved a towel!

The aging Blake jumped and hopped like a child!

D'Antoni's mouth hung open; he wanted to say something but found himself speechless, only able to cover his face with his hand!

They frantically rushed towards the center of the court.

Towards the man still lying on the floor.

The San Antonio Spurs players seemed to have had all their strength drained.

Parker slumped on the ground, his eyes vacant.

Duncan slowly lowered his head, supporting himself with his hands on his knees.

Leonard and Green, the two stone statues, finally moved.

They simultaneously looked at the figure of number 24 lying on the ground, their eyes filled with incomprehensible shock and a sense of defeat.

Popovich turned around.

He didn't look at the scoreboard, nor at his players.

He simply walked back towards the player tunnel with his unique, somewhat stumbling gait, without looking back.

For the first time, his back seemed a little desolate.

And at this moment.

At the center of the storm.

Lin Feng lay on the cold floor.

Every cell in his body screamed with fatigue and pain.

His strength was completely drained.

He couldn't even lift a finger.

But he heard it.

He heard that "swish," the most beautiful sound in the world.

He saw it.

He saw the final score frozen on the scoreboard.

He saw Howard, he saw Gasol, he saw all his teammates rushing towards him like a bunch of madmen.

Their faces showed ecstasy, adoration, and the excitement of surviving a disaster.

Lin Feng smiled.

He used his last ounce of strength to pull the corner of his mouth upwards.

Then.

The world before his eyes began to spin.

His teammates' ecstatic faces blurred.

The bright lights above the arena turned into individual spots of light.

The deafening cheers also grew distant.

Everything went dark.

He completely lost consciousness.