205: Chapter 205 The Mamba Falls! A Wildfire of Fury!

The final whistle echoed through the arena.

That sound was as sharp as a blade, slicing through the Los Angeles Lakers' last shred of hope.

The Miami Heat players rushed toward James.

They hoisted him high into the air.

Cheers.

Shouts.

Celebration.

The entire American Airlines Center turned into a sea of red.

Lin Feng stood rooted to the spot.

His body felt as if it had been hollowed out.

He watched that revelry of red.

He looked at the scoreboard, at that glaring 111 to 109.

They lost.

They still lost.

Even after Kobe had exhausted everything, even gambling his career to fight for one last chance for them.

They still lost.

An indescribable sense of powerlessness swept over his entire body.

His gaze passed through the celebrating crowd.

It landed at the entrance of the player tunnel.

Kobe was still sitting there.

That silhouette.

Amidst the flying confetti and deafening cheers.

He looked so lonely.

So forlorn.

Lin Feng's eyes reddened.

He knew that at this moment, Kobe's heart must hurt even more than his.

The game was over.

James emerged from the circle of his teammates.

He didn't celebrate immediately.

He pushed through the crowd and walked straight toward the player tunnel.

Wade followed behind him, a complex expression on his face.

They walked up to Kobe.

James crouched down.

He looked at Kobe's knee, which was wrapped in a thick ice pack.

"Hey, man."

James's voice was very low.

"I hope you're okay."

Kobe slowly raised his head.

The expression of pain was gone from his face.

Only a numb calm remained.

He glanced at James.

Then he glanced at Wade.

He didn't speak.

He simply gave a slight nod.

Wade's lips moved.

"Kobe, I..."

"It wasn't your fault."

Kobe interrupted him.

His voice was raspy but very clear.

"This is basketball."

After saying that.

He stopped looking at them.

His gaze returned to the celebrating court.

James and Wade looked at each other.

They both saw a flicker of respect in each other's eyes.

They stood up and left silently.

The Los Angeles Lakers players walked over one by one.

They gathered around Kobe.

No one spoke.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it made it hard to breathe.

Lin Feng walked over.

He reached out, wanting to help Kobe up.

"Boss."

"Let's head back to the locker room."

Kobe didn't move.

He just stared at the court.

As if he wanted to carve that floor into his very eyes.

After a long time.

Only then, with the support of Nash and Gasol, did he limp slowly to his feet.

Every step toward the locker room.

Felt like walking on the edge of a blade.

In the locker room.

There was a dead silence.

No one spoke.

There was only the sound of heavy breathing and ice cubes clinking against the bucket.

Kobe sat in his spot.

The Team Doctor was carefully examining his knee.

His knee was swollen like a steamed bun.

The Team Doctor's expression grew more and more solemn.

Lin Feng sat directly across from Kobe.

He stared fixedly at Kobe's knee.

His fists were clenched so hard they cracked.

He felt hatred.

Hatred for the Miami Heat.

And even more hatred for his own incompetence.

If only he were a little stronger.

If only he had stepped up sooner.

Kobe wouldn't have had to push himself to this point.

"What's the situation?"

Coach D'Antoni couldn't help but ask.

The Team Doctor looked up and glanced at everyone.

Then, he shook his head.

"Preliminary diagnosis."

"A severe recurrence of an old knee injury."

"There might also be ligament damage."

"For the specifics, we need to return to Los Angeles for a detailed MRI scan."

The Team Doctor paused.

He spoke the words that made everyone's hearts sink to the bottom.

"G3."

"The possibility of him playing is slim to none."

A bolt from the blue!

This news was like a heavy hammer, smashing hard into everyone's hearts.

Nash closed his eyes in pain.

Gasol's eyes completely reddened.

Howard slammed a fist into his locker.

Trailing 0 to 2.

And now, losing the soul of the team.

This series.

How could they even play?

Media outlets around the world reported on Kobe's injury immediately.

"The black mamba Falls! The Lakers' NBA Finals Journey Ends Early!"

"The King Ascends! The Heat's Path to Title Defense is Clear!"

"End of an Era? Kobe May Be Out for the Season Due to Injury!"

Everyone believed.

This series was already over.

The Los Angeles Lakers had no chance left.

On the plane back to Los Angeles.

The cabin was silent.

No one spoke.

No one watched TV.

No one even moved around.

Everyone sat in their seats.

Like a row of statues.

Lin Feng leaned against the window.

He looked out at the pitch-black night sky.

In his mind.

Over and over again.

The final moments of the game replayed.

The image of Kobe falling.

That roar of pain.

That face contorted with agony.

And.

Him sitting at the entrance of the player tunnel.

That look of unwillingness.

That lonely silhouette.

Scene after scene.

Like a movie playing on a loop in his head.

His heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by an invisible giant hand.

It hurt so much he could barely breathe.

An unprecedented fury.

A bone-chilling killing intent.

In the depths of his heart.

Began to burn frantically.

This was no longer for himself.

No longer for that damn championship.

This was for Kobe!

To protect the final dignity of a legend!

To complete this last dance for his idol!

He wanted revenge!

He wanted to make the Miami Heat pay the price!

He wanted LeBron James to pay a bloody price for that line, "Welcome to the NBA Finals!"

Lin Feng slowly closed his eyes.

His body was trembling slightly.

Not out of fear.

But from extreme anger and excitement.

In the depths of his consciousness.

Three distinctly different powers.

Were frantically intertwining, colliding, and merging in an unprecedented way.

A green light.

That was Shintaro Midorima's Full-Court Three-Pointer.

Representing absolute precision and calm.

Blue electrical arcs.

That was Aomine Daiki's Unorthodox Shot.

Representing wild instinct and an unsolvable breakthrough.

And those red pupils that were slowly opening.

That was Seijuro Akashi's Eye of the Heavenly Emperor.

Representing the Emperor's control and foresight of the future.

These three powers.

At this moment.

Catalyzed by his rage.

Were no longer independent skill sets.

They were becoming one.

An unprecedented feeling, so powerful it made him shudder.

Swept through his entire body.

The corner of Lin Feng's mouth curled into a cold arc.

G3.

Staples Center.

Miami, are you ready to face a completely enraged, perfect-form monster?