125: The touch was ice-cold! I'm on the verge of collapse!

Kobe's warning exploded in his mind like a thunderclap.

He was wrong.

He thought he was being vigilant enough.

But he had still underestimated the madness and ruthlessness of this old fox.

Popovich wasn't attacking his shooting technique at all.

What he wanted to destroy was the most fundamental prerequisite for Lin Feng to even take a shot!

His stamina!

And his spacing!

The Spurs' offense continued.

The ball went to Duncan again.

Still in that same spot, still that same movement, still that same forty-five-degree bank shot that drove opponents to despair.

Swish.

4-0.

On the other end, Lin Feng was still imprisoned in that three-man cage.

With every off-ball run, he had to give his all just to shake off Leonard's tugging and Green's positioning.

With every breath, he could smell the sweat on Splitter.

His energy consumption was three times, even five times that of a normal game.

He couldn't find the absolute state of focus required to enter the Midorima ZONE at all.

Because all his energy was being forced into the most primitive physical confrontation with these three beasts.

He managed to find a gap with great difficulty once more and passed the ball to Gasol at the free-throw line.

Wide open!

A massive opening!

Gasol caught the ball, jumped, and shot.

Clang!

The basketball hit the rim and bounced high into the air.

The rebound was easily snatched by Duncan.

The moment the basketball bounced off the rim.

The previously silent AT&T Center suddenly erupted into a sharp, synchronized roar of mockery!

"Hahahaha!"

That sound was like a giant hammer, smashing hard against the hearts of the Lakers players.

Then, it quickly returned to silence.

Cold and lethal.

Transition.

The Spurs' offense remained unhurried.

And Lin Feng was still in that cage, struggling bitterly.

He was like someone caught in quicksand; the more he struggled, the deeper he sank, and the faster his stamina drained.

Once again, he created an opportunity for Nick Young in the corner.

"Shoot!"

Lin Feng's voice was slightly hoarse from lack of oxygen.

Nick Young received the ball.

No one was in front of him.

He adjusted his breathing and aimed at the hoop.

He shot!

Clang!

Another crisp sound of the ball hitting iron!

"Hahahaha!"

That mountain-shaking, sea-tsunami-like mockery rang out on time again, as if performing some precise ritual.

Popovich stood on the sidelines, his face devoid of any expression.

His gamble was moving toward success, step by step.

He had calculated correctly.

He had correctly calculated that this Lakers team, in Kobe's absence, had no second, let alone third, scoring option who could consistently produce under the pressure of an away game of this caliber, like a Pivotal Game 5!

Lin Feng watched his teammates waste the opportunities he had traded his life for, time and time again.

In his heart, a fire of anxiety and anger was burning wildly.

He couldn't wait any longer!

He couldn't pin his hopes on others anymore!

On the Lakers' next possession.

Lin Feng didn't choose to pass again.

He decided to do it himself!

Facing Leonard's defense, he used an extremely forced step-back that almost made him lose his balance to jump for a shot!

Three people, three pairs of long arms, loomed over him simultaneously.

His shooting space was compressed to the extreme.

He could only push the ball out by feel.

The arc of the ball was very flat.

The power was also clearly lacking.

The basketball didn't even touch the rim; it hit the bottom edge of the backboard directly.

An airball!

"Hahahahahaha!"

This time, the mocking laughter was louder and more piercing than any time before!

The first quarter ended.

The scoreboard at the AT&T Center showed a score that made all Lakers fans feel suffocated.

27-12.

The Lakers had only scored 12 points in a single quarter, trailing the Spurs by a full 15 points!

And on Lin Feng's personal stat line was a glaring number.

0-for-2, 0 points, 0 assists.

Interval between quarters.

D'Antoni held the clipboard, standing in front of the players.

He kept drawing and then erasing.

His forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat.

He realized he had no solution.

No way to crack Popovich's unreasonable, almost thuggish "Cage Tactic."

It was an open scheme.

Using his three key players to completely neutralize your one king.

As long as the Lakers' role players couldn't hit their shots, this tactic was unsolvable!

"Defense! Crank up our defensive intensity!"

In the end, D'Antoni could only roar out such a pale and powerless phrase.

The second quarter began.

The situation on the court didn't change at all.

Lin Feng was still trapped in that cage, fighting like a cornered beast.

The other Lakers players' shooting remained as cold as a San Antonio railroad track on a winter night.

The point gap widened further.

Lin Feng's patience was being worn away bit by bit.

In an attempt to force his way past the defense, Lin Feng tried to use a burst of speed to break through Danny Green's defensive line.

Green didn't hesitate, slamming his side hard into the accelerating Lin Feng!

Bang!

A dull thud.

Lin Feng lost his balance entirely and fell heavily onto the floor!

The cold, hard sensation of the floor spread through his entire body from his back.

However.

The referee's whistle did not blow!

The referee standing not far away just shook his head, indicating it was normal defensive contact!

Lin Feng lay on the ground, looking at the referee and his impassive expression.

An uncontrollable surge of fury suddenly erupted from his chest!

He sprang up from the floor and roared loudly at the referee.

"You're not calling that?!"

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Is he blind?!"

Lin Feng's English wasn't particularly fluent, but every word he shouted now was filled with rage and accusation.

The referee's face darkened.

He didn't hesitate for a second.

Tweet!

A sharp whistle!

He pointed his finger first at the out-of-control Lin Feng, then made the gesture for a technical foul!

The entire AT&T Center erupted into deafening cheers at that moment!

Lin Feng stood there, completely stunned.

He looked at the referee who had made the call, then at the gloating, cheering Spurs fans around him.

He felt like he had fallen into a massive, cold trap.

For the first time, a crack appeared in his mentality.