14: Your way, my answer

The game resumed.

Lakers' backcourt ball.

Nash stood outside the sideline, ready to inbound the ball.

On the court, everyone's eyes were focused on two people.

Lin Feng.

Stephen Curry.

Curry didn't stay in his defensive area; like a cheetah eyeing its prey, he stuck close to Lin Feng, who had just run past half-court.

Full-court press!

Gasps erupted throughout the Staples Center.

"My god, Stephen is going to defend Lin Feng personally!"

"And a full-court press! Is he crazy?"

Announcer A's voice was full of disbelief.

"This is a declaration of ace vs. ace! Curry is using his own way to issue a challenge to Lin Feng!" Announcer B shouted excitedly.

Nash looked at the scene before him and wasn't in a hurry to inbound.

He saw Curry's body pressed tightly against Lin Feng, one hand held high to interfere with the passing lane, and the other constantly using small movements at Lin Feng's waist.

It wasn't the kind of pure power-based entanglement like Klay Thompson's.

Curry's defense was full of rhythm and anticipation.

His footwork was light and precise, like he was dancing, but every step blocked Lin Feng's most uncomfortable positions.

His palms constantly roamed over Lin Feng's body, sometimes tapping, sometimes pushing, using continuous harassment to disrupt Lin Feng's preparation to receive the ball.

For the first time, Lin Feng felt this level of pressure.

He tried to make a back-cut, but as soon as he exerted force, Curry's body seemed to have predicted it, directly cutting off his path.

He wanted to use a fake to shake him off, but Curry's center of gravity was as steady as a rock, completely unmoved.

"Kid, welcome to the NBA."

Curry's voice came close to his ear, with a hint of provocative panting.

"This isn't a place where you can just shoot whenever you want."

Lin Feng didn't respond.

His expression remained calm, but his body already felt the strength of his opponent.

This was a truly elite scorer; he knew all the habits and weaknesses of scorers.

Nash saw the opportunity and passed the ball to Gasol, who had come to support.

Then, he made a subtle gesture to Gasol.

The Spaniard understood.

The Lakers' offense began to move.

Gasol held the ball at the high post, like a facilitating pivot.

Nash began moving off-ball, drawing the Golden State Warriors's defense away.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the struggle between Lin Feng and Curry reached a fever pitch.

Lin Feng used a simple screen from Nick Young to temporarily gain half a body's lead.

He ran toward the three-point line at the top of the arc.

Curry, like a ghost, immediately rounded the screen and chased after him again.

Just then.

Pau Gasol, the big man with elite basketball IQ and facilitating skills, moved.

He took a firm step, like building a wall on the court, solidly blocking Curry's pursuit path.

A high-quality off-ball screen!

"Beautiful screen!" a cry of admiration came from the commentary booth.

Curry crashed into Gasol's broad chest, his forward momentum completely halted.

Just that millisecond of delay!

Lin Feng ran into a tiny opening.

He didn't even look back, just reached out toward the designated spot.

Nash's pass arrived.

The basketball, as if programmed with a navigation system, threaded through the crowd, bypassed arms, and landed precisely in Lin Feng's hands.

Precise as a scalpel!

Everyone in the Staples Center stood up.

They knew it was coming!

The moment Lin Feng caught the ball, Curry, who had rounded the screen, lunged over like a madman.

Fire burned in his eyes, and his face was written with stubborn refusal to lose.

"Kid, luck won't strike twice!"

He roared, leaping into the air, arms extended to the limit, his huge palm looming over the basketball in Lin Feng's hands.

He was going to block this damn shot!

However.

Lin Feng ignored his shouting.

Nor did he look at the palm that blotted out the sun.

The moment he caught the ball, his body made its most instinctive reaction.

No adjustment, no pause.

Catch, gather, jump.

The entire sequence was incredibly fluid, as if rehearsed a thousand times.

His body unfolded in the air, and his wrist gave a light flick.

The basketball flew from his fingertips.

Just before Curry's fingertips could touch the ball, it flew out.

Too slow.

Still one step too slow.

Curry's body sailed through the air, his fingertips feeling only the wind stirred by the basketball as it flew past.

In his pupils was reflected that orange basketball, tracing that beautiful arc in the air that he was so familiar with.

The entire arena fell into that eerie silence once again.

Everyone's eyes followed the ball.

Time slowed down at this moment.

"Swish!"

The crisp, pleasant sound of the ball piercing the net rang out again.

Like heavenly music!

It's in again!

Nothing but net again!

After a silence of half a second, the Staples Center completely exploded!

"Boom—!"

A wave of sound, more violent and crazed than the last, swept through the entire arena!

"Two points! No! It's a three! The three-pointer is good!"

"He made it again! Under Stephen Curry's Suffocating Defense! He made another three-pointer!"

"Crazy! The world has gone completely crazy!"

Announcer A's voice was already hoarse; he held his head and let out a wail of disbelief.

On the court.

Lin Feng landed steadily.

He didn't celebrate, didn't roar.

He just turned around and, amidst the mountain-shaking background noise of the crowd, gave Curry a look.

It was a calm gaze.

No provocation, no mockery.

Just looking at him calmly.

But this gaze was more powerful than any trash talk.

It seemed to say:

This isn't luck.

This is my way.

Then, Lin Feng turned around and began running back to his own half-court.

Curry landed from the air, stumbling a couple of steps before steadying himself.

He looked at Lin Feng's calm back, his chest heaving violently.

Humiliation, shock, resentment, and a hint of madness that had been completely ignited.

All these emotions intertwined in his mind, finally turning into a most primal impulse.

He was going to pay him back!

In the same way, pay him back!

Golden State Warriors's baseline inbound.

Curry didn't even wait for his teammates to get into position; he rushed over and took the ball from the inbounding Andre Iguodala.

"Stephen has the ball! What is he going to do?"

After receiving the ball, Curry didn't pause for a second.

Like an infuriated bull, he dribbled frantically and charged toward the frontcourt.

His speed reached the limit, turning himself into a bolt of golden lightning.

The one defending him was Steve Nash.

Nash spread his arms, attempting to slow him down.

But at this moment, Curry only had eyes for the basket.

He dribbled to a spot one step beyond the three-point line, facing Nash's defense without any sign of slowing down.

A sudden stop!

An unreasonable pull-up jumper!

His body leaped forcefully under the immense inertia, leaning back slightly.

This was an extremely unreasonable shot selection!

But the moment the ball left his fingertips, he smiled.

It was a crazed smile, filled with boundless confidence.

The basketball traced a high arc in the air.

Everyone's heart jumped into their throats.

"Swish!"

The crisp sound of the ball piercing the net rang out in the arena for the third time!

The ball went straight into the net!