139: The stone Buddha is shaking!

Boom—!

A deafening roar, as if the rim was being torn from the backboard, echoed above the Staples Center!

Time, at this moment, was completely frozen.

Tim Duncan, the stone buddha who had stood firm in the NBA's paint for over a decade, was knocked back two steps by this incredibly violent force from the air!

His chest churned with surging blood.

He looked up, with an almost dazed gaze, at the figure hanging on the rim, facing him, letting out a beast-like roar!

Lin Feng's body swayed violently on the rim, like a pendulum.

His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulged from his neck, and his handsome face was now filled with a primal,瘋狂, conquering pleasure!

"Roar!!!"

That inhuman roar, transmitted through the microphone below the rim, spread to every corner of the world!

This was the victor's declaration!

This was the most brutal execution of the rulers of the old era!

Duncan looked at him.

For the first time, cracks appeared on the stone buddha's face, which had remained unchanged for millennia.

He felt that the restricted area he had guarded his entire life, the basketball philosophy he was so proud of, was at this moment, completely shattered by this young man from the East, in the most barbaric and unreasonable way!

The buzzer signaling halftime arrived late in this fervent ocean.

"Beep—!"

Lin Feng let go and dropped from the rim.

He stood firmly in front of Duncan.

He no longer roared, but calmly looked at the legend before him with eyes burning with wild fire.

Then, he turned and walked towards the player tunnel.

Without looking back.

Leaving behind that shattered era belonging to the Spurs.

Not a single spectator remained seated in the Staples Center.

They were insane.

They were completely insane.

They waved their arms, roared, jumped, using every means to vent the explosive excitement in their chests!

At the commentary desk, Barkley held his bald head, incoherent.

"A poster dunk! An alley-oop poster dunk over Tim Duncan!"

"My God! What did I just witness?! Is this the end of an era?!"

"He destroyed the Spurs! He alone destroyed the greatest defensive system in NBA history!"

On the big screen, the halftime stats were displayed.

Lakers 65:40 Spurs.

The score difference was 25 points.

And under Lin Feng's personal stats, there was a number that suffocated everyone.

40 points!

He scored a whopping 40 points in one half!

...Halftime break.

The Lakers' locker room was like a nightclub having a party.

"Did you see that! He slammed Duncan away!"

Nick Young gesticulated wildly, mimicking Lin Feng's brutal dunk.

Howard rushed over, wanting to give Lin Feng a bear hug, but was forced back half a step by Lin Feng's cold gaze.

They had all become spectators.

Front-row, VIP spectators.

All they had to do was pass the ball to number 24.

Then, stand aside and applaud and cheer for the bloody massacre he was about to begin.

In stark contrast to the revelry here.

Was the Spurs' locker room.

Dead silence.

A tomb-like silence.

The players sat in their seats, heads bowed, not daring to breathe.

Their pride, their confidence, their basketball faith built over two decades, had been torn to shreds by one man in the most primal, violent way during those twenty minutes.

No one knew how to defend that monster.

Double team?

He could weave through gaps you couldn't even imagine with inhuman speed and body control.

Single coverage?

Kawhi Leonard's fate was the best proof.

Let him shoot?

His shooting range covered the entire half-court.

Block his drive?

He could throw the ball in from behind the rim!

Gregg Popovich, the white-haired, distinguished tactical master, simply sat there quietly at this moment.

He didn't roar.

He didn't throw the clipboard.

The anger and shock on his face had long faded.

All that remained was a deep, unprecedented sense of powerlessness.

He had dominated the league for twenty years, and he had seen all kinds of superstars.

But he had never seen a player like this.

That wasn't basketball.

That was pure, violent aesthetics, existing solely to destroy rules.

His proud team basketball, his cherished tactical system.

In front of that man's absolute, unreasonable individual ability.

It was like a joke.

A huge joke... The second half of the game began.

But everyone knew the game was already over.

The Spurs players' eyes had lost their light.

They were just mechanically running, passing, shooting.

Like a group of puppets who had lost their souls.

And Lin Feng was still that tireless beast.

He only played for a few minutes symbolically, effortlessly extending the lead to 40 points with an unreasonable step-back three-pointer and a breakthrough layup that disregarded all defense.

Using an unreasonable step-back three-pointer and a breakthrough layup that disregarded all defense, he easily extended the lead to 40 points.

D'Antoni immediately called a timeout and substituted Lin Feng.

The slaughter could end.

When Lin Feng stood up and walked towards the bench.

A scene that moved everyone unfolded in the Staples Center.

One fan stood up and applauded him.

Then, a second, a third.

Finally, the entire arena, twenty thousand spectators, whether they had supported him before or booed him the harshest.

At this moment, all of them spontaneously stood up!

They paid their highest respects to the man who had just performed a miracle, with the warmest applause and the most reverent gazes!

"MVP!!!"

"MVP!!!"

"MVP!!!"

The deafening shouts echoed in the Staples Center for a long time.

Those fans who had previously called him a "scumbag" and told him to "get out of the Lakers" were now shouting louder than anyone else.

This was Los Angeles.

A city that worships heroes and the strong.

As long as you can conquer this arena, you can conquer everything here.

Lin Feng walked off the court.

He ignored the frantic shouts and did not bask in the adoring gazes.

He simply walked straight to the man in the black training uniform.

Kobe stood up.

He opened his arms and embraced Lin Feng tightly.

He smiled and whispered something into Lin Feng's ear, in a voice only the two of them could hear.

"Welcome to my world, kid."

Lin Feng's body trembled slightly.

He let go and looked at Kobe's face, which held a relieved smile.

He knew that from this moment on.

He had truly gained the recognition of the Purple and Gold King.

Lin Feng walked back to the bench and sat down heavily.

He covered his head with a towel, breathing heavily.

The extreme explosiveness brought by the [Aomine Daiki ZONE] mode also brought immense exhaustion.

His body felt hollowed out.

Every muscle was crying out in fatigue.

He leaned back in his chair, feeling his eyelids incredibly heavy.

But he didn't close his eyes.

His gaze pierced through the noisy crowd, through the flashing lights, and once again, fell upon the direction of the stands.

The game had completely entered garbage time.

Both teams' bench players were on the court, engaging in meaningless attrition.

Time, minute by minute, was slipping away.

The final whistle was about to blow.

The live director clearly knew what the audience wanted to see.

He didn't show the boring scenes on the court; instead, he once again aimed the camera at the two special female spectators who had captivated the world's attention since the start of the game.