16: Who is the sharpshooter?

The basketball spun rapidly, tracing a near-perfect arc through the air.

Like a precision-guided missile endowed with life, it crossed half-court, soared over everyone's heads, and flew straight toward its singular destination.

In the Staples Center, tens of thousands of eyes converged into invisible trajectories, flying along with the ball.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely at this moment.

And then.

Swish!

A crisp, crystalline sound of the ball piercing the net—so pleasant it made scalps tingle—echoed through the arena for the third time!

This time, it wasn't just a simple basket.

It was a resounding slap, fiercely striking everyone across the face.

It was a heavy hammer, shattering all inherent perceptions people had about the sport of basketball.

It was a proclamation, announcing the descent of a new god!

After a full second of deathly silence, the Staples Center erupted with the most terrifying wave of sound since its construction!

It wasn't just cheering, nor was it just screaming.

It was an indescribable collective emotional venting, a mixture of shock, fanaticism, fear, and worship!

"My God!"

Announcer A ripped off his headset and stood up, clutching his hair frantically, roaring at the commentary table like a madman.

"What am I seeing! What on earth am I seeing!"

"Is this a basketball game? No! It isn't!"

"This is one man's performance of miracles!"

On the court.

All the players of the Golden State Warriors stood frozen in place, as if under a paralysis spell.

The anger and absurdity on the face of their head coach, Mark Jackson, had solidified into a distorted sculpture.

And Stephen Curry.

He stood inside the three-point line, at the very spot he had used to mock Lin Feng earlier.

The sneer on his face had long since vanished.

Anger and resentment had also completely faded away.

In their place was a pure, soul-deep astonishment and blankness.

He couldn't understand it.

He truly couldn't understand.

How could someone in this world play basketball this way?

This was no longer just being unreasonable.

This was using the power of a god to crush the rules of mortals.

Just then, a figure jogged past him.

It was Lin Feng.

After making the shot, he didn't even glance at the hoop; he simply turned back to defend calmly.

As he passed Curry, his pace didn't falter for a second as he whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear.

"Surprised?"

Those three words were light, yet they felt like a red-hot steel needle stabbing deep into Curry's heart.

This was the response.

This was the most direct and cruel response to all the trash talk from the start of the game.

Curry's body jolted. He turned his head and stared fixedly at Lin Feng's calm back, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

The game had completely lost its suspense.

The remaining time became Lin Feng's solo performance and a torment for the entire Golden State Warriors.

The other players on the court, whether teammates or opponents, became witnesses to this miracle.

They became spectators on the floor.

The Lakers players, including future Hall of Famers Nash and Gasol, found their tasks incredibly simple.

Defend.

Rebound.

Then, give the ball to Lin Feng.

After dribbling across half-court, Nash didn't even look for tactical positioning anymore; his first choice was always to find Lin Feng's location.

The moment Gasol grabbed a rebound, he immediately looked up to find the figure of the Easterner.

The game reached the middle of the fourth quarter.

Nick Young received a pass from Nash after a beautiful backdoor cut.

He was facing an empty hoop; a simple layup would easily earn him two points.

In any other game, he would have finished the play without hesitation and performed his signature "Swaggy P" celebration.

But this time, he hesitated.

He glanced at the hoop, then subconsciously turned his head to look at Lin Feng, who was being tightly smothered by two Warriors players outside the three-point line.

That position wasn't an opportunity at all.

But Nick Young didn't think.

He followed his inner choice.

With a flick of his wrist, he passed out the ball that was a guaranteed score.

He passed it to Lin Feng, whose position wasn't even good.

He had been completely won over.

He was willing to sacrifice his own stats just to see the miracle performed one more time.

"Nick Young! He actually passed!"

Exclamations erupted from the commentary booth.

The moment Lin Feng caught the ball, he felt immense pressure from the defenders.

Thompson and Andre Iguodala, the Warriors' two best perimeter defenders, clamped down on him like iron pincers.

They used body contact and arm interference, giving him not a single inch of shooting space.

But Lin Feng's face remained expressionless.

In that cramped gap with almost no space, he forced a jump shot with an extremely strained posture.

His body leaned back in the air until it was almost parallel to the ground.

An extreme fadeaway jumper!

Clang!

The ball hit the backboard.

Everyone thought the shot would miss.

But after striking the backboard, the orange basketball eerily bounced upward, traced a small arc in the air, and dropped precisely into the net!

It went in again!

A bank shot!

The Warriors players' mental state had completely collapsed.

Their defensive actions began to get increasingly rough.

During an interior defensive play, Andrew Bogut used a crude move to knock the driving Gasol to the ground.

The referee's whistle blew without hesitation—a flagrant foul.

And Curry, the once agile and elegant shooter, was now like a trapped beast.

On one possession, facing Nash's defense, he tried to perform a flashy behind-the-back dribble because he was in too much of a hurry.

Smack!

The ball slipped away.

He committed a turnover.

Nick Young, like a bolt of black lightning, darted out from the side and snatched the ball.

The Lakers launched a fast break!

Nick Young charged toward the frontcourt. He had no intention of laying it up himself; after drawing the defense, he immediately passed the ball to the trailing Lin Feng.

Lin Feng caught the pass.

The path ahead of him was wide open, with no defenders in sight.

In the entire Staples Center, everyone stood up, waiting for an earth-shattering dunk.

They expected Lin Feng to use a flight to the rim to put a perfect period on this great performance.

However, Lin Feng didn't.

He dribbled the ball unhurriedly to the three-point line.

Then, he stopped.

A sudden stop.

Just when everyone thought he was going to shoot another three, he made a move that made the whole world hold its breath.

He stopped outside the three-point line but didn't shoot immediately.

He looked back.

He cast a glance behind him.

He saw the figure desperately chasing back to defend.

It was Stephen Curry, wearing the Warriors' number 30 jersey, his face full of resentment and madness.

Lin Feng just looked at him.

Then, under Curry's gaze, he leaped calmly and released the ball from his hand.

A humiliating look-back shot.

The basketball traced one final perfect arc in the air.

Swish!

Nothing but net.