160: The key to royalty! Kobe's late-night tutoring!

Late at night.

A black aston martin, like a ghostly shadow, sped through the empty streets of Los Angeles.

Lin Feng gripped the steering wheel, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

He floored the accelerator.

The roar of the engine was like a caged beast growling, trying to drown out those hollow, lonely eyes in his mind.

But he couldn't.

Kobe's gaze was like a red-hot branding iron, deeply seared into the depths of his soul.

The car came to a screeching halt in front of a mansion in Beverly Hills.

The tires shrieked as they rubbed against the ground.

Lin Feng got out of the car and walked quickly to the heavy door carved with exquisite patterns.

He raised his hand, about to ring the doorbell.

"Click."

The door opened from the inside.

Kobe stood behind the door, wearing a black silk bathrobe.

He didn't look surprised.

As if he had known all along that Lin Feng would come.

"Come in."

Kobe's voice was a bit raspy as he stepped aside to make way.

Lin Feng walked in silently.

The mansion was very quiet.

Kobe didn't take him to the living room, but led him straight to the private film room in the basement.

A huge screen was playing an old game recording.

It was from the OK duo's three-peat era.

On the screen, a young man in a No. 8 jersey with a defiant afro was flying through the air, capable of anything.

Kobe didn't talk about tonight's painful loss.

Nor did he perform any technical analysis.

He just went to the wine cabinet, poured two glasses of whiskey, and handed one to Lin Feng.

Then, he pointed at his young, aggressive, high-flying self on the screen.

He spoke, his voice deep.

"Kid."

"Do you know why that big guy and I were able to win?"

Lin Feng held his glass, remaining silent.

He watched the young Kobe on the screen, tearing through the opponent's defense with one incredible individual attack after another.

The answer seemed to be on the tip of his tongue.

Because you were strong enough.

Because you were unstoppable.

But he didn't say it.

He knew that what Kobe wanted to hear was definitely not that.

Kobe saw his confusion and gave the answer himself.

"Because everyone thought I was the Lakers' strongest weapon."

There was a hint of self-deprecation in Kobe's voice.

"But they were all wrong."

"I was just the sharpest spear."

"And the real weapon..."

Kobe's gaze became distant.

"Was Phil Jackson's Triangle Offense."

"It was the clutch shot Derek Fisher made with 0.4 seconds left."

"It was the game-winner Robert Horry hit at the Sacramento Kings' home court."

"My greatest strength..."

Kobe turned his head, his gaze like lightning, piercing straight into the depths of Lin Feng's heart!

"Wasn't my scoring ability!"

"It was that I could make all these people willing to become my weapons!"

"To let them deliver the most fatal blow when it was needed most!"

These words were like a sudden clap of Thunder!

They exploded in Lin Feng's mind!

His whole body froze in place!

He almost dropped the glass in his hand!

He understood!

He finally understood!

His line of thinking all along had been completely wrong from the start!

Whether it was Daiki Aomine's Formless Shot!

Or Shintaro Midorima's All-court Three-pointer!

These abilities were only limitlessly strengthening his attributes as a 'spear'!

Making this spear sharper and more lethal!

But!

When the opponent is a wall built with the purest talent that cannot be destroyed!

No matter how sharp the spear is, what use is it?

Other than crashing against the wall until bloody and eventually breaking oneself, it has no meaning!

To defeat an opponent like the Thunder!

What he needed wasn't a stronger spear at all!

But a kind of... Kingship, that could command thousands of troops and make the entire battlefield serve him!

He needed to control the game!

Instead of being like a gambler, putting all his chips on his own shooting touch!

He needed every teammate around him!

Whether it was Nash, Gasol, or Howard!

To become pieces on his chessboard, capable of delivering a fatal blow to the enemy at the most critical position at any time!

Eye of the Heavenly Emperor!

In that instant, the image of being posterized by Westbrook surfaced in his mind again.

He had activated the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor.

He had predicted everything Westbrook would do.

But he was still knocked away like a piece of paper.

Why?

Before, he couldn't find the answer, only feeling it was pure talent crushing him.

But now.

He understood!

The core ability of the Eye of the Heavenly Emperor wasn't 'prediction' at all!

It was 'control'!

To look down at the entire game like a true emperor, and then use his own will to dominate the actions of all the pieces on the board!

His thought at the time was to predict Westbrook's actions and then use his own body to block him!

That was a defender's mindset!

That was a passive, reactive mindset!

And what would a true emperor do?

He wouldn't personally go down to engage in bloody hand-to-hand combat with the opponent's pawns!

He would use his eyes to see through the entire battlefield!

Then, he would mobilize the thousands of troops under his command!

To set traps!

To divide and conquer!

To make that damn, out-of-control 'heavy truck' crash into the death trap tailor-made for him!

An unprecedented desire for 'control'!

Like a wildfire, it grew wildly in the depths of his heart!

He thought of Scarlett Johansson.

He thought of that condescending, slightly playful look in her text message.

Lion.

Cheetah.

Siege.

That wasn't a game.

That was a hunt!

And he, Lin Feng, would be the only hunter in control of the whole scene!

Kobe looked at the new, even slightly dangerous flame reigniting in Lin Feng's eyes.

He nodded with satisfaction.

"It seems you've found your path."

Lin Feng stood up straight.

He didn't say another word.

To this man before him.

His idol, his mentor, and the guide who lit the way forward when he was most lost.

He bowed deeply.

Then, he turned and strode out of the film room.

Sitting back in that aston martin.

Lin Feng's gaze became incredibly firm and deep.

He dialed that unfamiliar number from Scarlett.

After a few rings, the call was connected.

From the receiver came a voice that was slightly lazy yet full of fatal temptation.

"Hello?"

Lin Feng didn't introduce himself or exchange pleasantries.

He just said one sentence in an unquestionable, strongly aggressive tone.

"I want to visit your 'hunting ground'."

"Now."