150: The King's Sting!

That sentence was like a steel needle dipped in poison.

It fiercely stabbed into Lin Feng's heart.

One person.

We have two.

Lin Feng's steps halted in the middle of the player tunnel.

He raised his head and looked expressionlessly at Westbrook's extremely arrogant face on the television screen.

The sighs and footsteps of his teammates around him seemed muffled, as if separated by a thick pane of glass.

In his world,

only that constantly replaying, mocking sentence remained.

In those eyes, dimmed slightly due to exhaustion, something was quietly shattering.

Then, reassembling.

It was something deeper than the ferocity of the Aomine ZONE.

Something colder than the precision of the Midorimas Full-Court Three-Pointer.

He slowly turned around and walked into the Lakers' locker room without a word.

"Bang!"

The door was shut.

Sealing off all the external clamor.

In the locker room, there was a deathly silence.

No one spoke.

The air was filled only with the pungent smell of sweat mixed with ointment.

And the heavy, ragged sounds of breathing, as if forcibly dragged out of their chests.

Nick Young sat in front of his locker, burying his head deep in his arms, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Gasol leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Nash was slowly unwrapping the bandages on his ankles, moving like an eighty-year-old man.

The gloom of defeat pressed down on everyone's heart like a huge block of lead.

head coach D'Antoni opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something to boost morale.

"Guys, lift your heads..."

His voice was dry and powerless.

"This is just one game, we..."

He couldn't continue.

Because even he lacked confidence.

The huge gap in talent was like an insurmountable chasm lying before everyone.

Any tactic, any encouragement, seemed pale and ridiculous in the face of absolute talent dominance.

No one in the locker room responded to him.

Only suffocating silence.

Just then.

Kobe stood up from his chair.

He remained silent.

His resolute face showed no expression.

He walked through the silent crowd and directly toward the technical statistics desk by the door.

On it lay a freshly printed sheet of technical statistics recording all the data from the game.

"Swish."

A light sound.

Kobe picked up the paper.

Then, he turned around and walked step by step back in front of Lin Feng.

All eyes in the locker room were involuntarily drawn over.

They looked at Kobe, and then at Lin Feng, who hadn't said a word since entering, just sitting there with his head bowed.

Lin Feng did not move.

He didn't even look up.

He just quietly stared at the floor in front of him, soaked with sweat.

Kobe stood before him like a black statue.

The next second.

"Slap!"

A crisp, loud sound of paper hitting the table!

That thin statistical sheet was slammed hard by Kobe onto the table in front of Lin Feng!

Everyone's heart twitched violently with that impact!

Nick Young also looked up, his reddened eyes filled with confusion.

Lin Feng's body trembled slightly.

His gaze finally moved slowly up from the floor.

Finally landing on that cold sheet filled with numbers.

His stats line was clearly printed in black ink.

[Lin Feng: 48 minutes played, 51 points, 6 rebounds, 8 assists.]

A super stat that would make any player proud.

However.

Lin Feng's gaze continued downward.

He saw the total line recording the team's stats.

Another number, like a red-hot iron spike, fiercely seared into his pupils.

[Team Total Assists: 13.]

Thirteen.

Lin Feng's mind went blank for that instant.

He subconsciously performed a simple subtraction.

Thirteen minus eight.

Equals... five.

This meant.

Besides him.

The entire Lakers team, throughout the entire forty-eight minutes of brutal dogfight,

only managed to register a mere five assists!

This number was like an invisible, razor-sharp knife.

More damaging than Westbrook's taunting trash talk.

More despair-inducing than Nick Young's missed game-winner.

It nakedly and mercilessly revealed the cruelest truth.

When he, Lin Feng, fell into that reckless, one-man heroic frenzy,

this team, this offensive system built upon last season's championship core,

had completely stalled.

Paralyzed.

Just then.

Kobe's voice finally rang out.

Hoarse.

Low.

Like two pieces of rusted metal grinding against each other.

"In Game 7 against the Spurs, you had 15 assists."

Kobe looked at Lin Feng, his eyes holding a complex expression Lin Feng had never seen before.

There was disappointment.

There was anger.

But mostly, there was a kind of instruction born from disappointment in his potential.

"Today,"

Every word Kobe spoke was like a nail driven deep into Lin Feng's soul.

"You only thought about killing those two with your own strength."

"But you forgot."

"Behind you, there are four teammates wearing the same jersey."

"Boom!"

It was as if a bomb detonated inside Lin Feng's mind!

He suddenly looked up!

He looked into Kobe's eyes, which were as sharp as a hawk's.

He looked at that face etched with fatigue and disappointment.

He instantly understood.

Completely understood.

The root of this loss

was not the game-winning shot Nick Young missed at the end.

It wasn't even the despairing gap in talent.

It was himself!

It was the most foolish and arrogant way to win the game he chose right from the start!

He wanted to be the hero.

He wanted to use a solo performance to answer the world's doubts and shatter the pride of that King-and-Ace duo.

The result.

He put up god-like stats.

And then, lost the entire game.

He wasn't a hero.

He was the sinner.

"Buzz..."

Just then, the cell phone lying on the table suddenly vibrated.

The screen lit up.

Lin Feng didn't look at it.

The sharp sting and regret surging from the depths of his heart almost made it impossible for him to breathe.

He knew.

If he didn't change.

If he remained immersed in that damned, solitary hero dream.

Then this series would have no suspense.

The Lakers would be completely engulfed and crushed by that blue torrent of talent.

He had to evolve.

He had to transform from a 'hero' who only knew how to solve problems with brute force,

into a true... leader who could make everyone better and control the entire court!