216: Chapter 216 The Final Step Before the Throne

Kobe rushed to Lin Feng's side, pulled him up from the cold floor, and held his right arm high!

As if announcing to the entire world...

Look! This is my successor!

This is the new King of Los Angeles!

At this moment, all the spotlights in the arena converged on Lin Feng.

On the big screen, the 2-2 score was as glaring as it was exhilarating.

The Lakers had pulled the series back to the same starting line!

"Game 4 belongs to Lin Feng! With a God-like block, he dragged the Lakers back from the brink of death!"

"This is the most incredible individual performance I've seen in my broadcasting career!"

"The series is tied at 2-2! Game 5 will be in Miami! That will be the Pivotal Game 5 that truly decides the fate of the series!"

At the commentators' table, Barkley and Kenny Smith's voices were hoarse yet filled with excitement.

The world's media went completely wild that night.

"A New King Ascends or the Old King Defends? Game 5, the Ultimate Pivotal Game!"

"Lin Feng's Ascension to Godhood, James Faces the Greatest Challenger of His Career!"

"One Block Changes the Entire Landscape of the League!"

At this moment, Lin Feng's prestige reached an unprecedented peak.

He was no longer just a superstar; he was truly placed on equal footing with LeBron James as a face of the league.

...

The noisy post-game.

Inside the Lakers' locker room, the atmosphere wasn't as frenzied as the outside world imagined.

The celebratory champagne remained unopened.

On the players' faces was more of the exhaustion that follows a narrow escape.

"Lin, is your leg still cramping?"

Gasol handed over a bottle of electrolyte water and asked with concern.

Lin Feng leaned against the locker, gulped down the water, and nodded.

His calf muscles were still twitching uncontrollably.

In the final minutes of overtime, he had been holding on purely through willpower.

His stamina had completely hit the red zone.

It wasn't just him.

Howard slumped in his chair, not wanting to move even a finger.

Nash had a thick ice pack on his lower back, an old injury from his career.

On Coach D'Antoni's face, joy and worry were intertwined.

He knew very well how lucky this victory was and how heavy a price had been paid.

Everyone's stamina had been pushed to the limit.

In the corner of the locker room.

The Team Doctor was carefully unwrapping the ice pack from Kobe's knee.

The moment the ice pack was removed, Kobe's cheek twitched uncontrollably.

His knee was swollen like a bun, colored a frightening greenish-purple.

"The situation isn't good, Kobe."

The Team Doctor's voice was full of concern.

"I suggest that in the next game..."

"I'm playing the next one."

Kobe interrupted the Team Doctor, his voice not loud but resolute.

He didn't look at anyone, just stared down at his leg that no longer felt like it belonged to him.

That wasn't a topic up for discussion.

It was a decision.

He knew very well that his knee was a ticking time bomb that could completely give out at any moment.

But he knew even better that this Lakers team needed him.

Even if he could only stand on the court for a few minutes, even if he could only take a few shots.

He had to be there.

To use his final light to illuminate Lin Feng's path to the throne.

...

Meanwhile.

Inside the Miami Heat's locker room.

The atmosphere was terrifyingly oppressive.

The players all sat with their heads bowed; no one spoke.

The loss in Game 4 was a devastating blow to them.

That block of the century was like a nightmare haunting everyone's mind.

Coach Spoelstra stood before the tactical board, silent.

After a long time.

A heavy voice broke the silence.

"My fault."

LeBron James stood up.

He didn't cover his head with a towel, nor did he avoid anyone's gaze.

He looked around at each of his teammates.

Wade, Bosh, Ray Allen, Chalmers...

"The last shot, I messed it up."

"I shouldn't have passed; I should have finished it myself."

"I let all of your hard work go to waste."

"The responsibility for the Game 4 loss lies entirely with me."

He pointed to his chest, speaking word by word with absolute clarity.

Wade looked up: "LeBron, that wasn't your fault. Your choice was correct; it's just that kid..."

"No 'justs'!"

James interrupted Wade.

"A loss is a loss. No excuses."

His face no longer showed the confusion and anger from the Game 3 loss, only an icy, extreme calm.

"The series isn't over."

"2-2, we're back at the start."

"Game 5 is at our home court."

He walked to the center of the locker room.

"In the next game, there will be no more tactics, no more hesitation."

"This will be a war."

"A war we must win at all costs."

"I will give everything I have to keep the victory in Miami."

"I need you all with me."

His words were like a sledgehammer, striking the heart of every Heat player.

Confusion and frustration were replaced by a reignited fighting spirit.

They were the defending champions.

They were the Big Three.

They were far from the point of giving up.

...

Two days later, Miami, American Airlines Center.

The Pivotal Game 5 was the focus of everyone's attention.

The eyes of the entire world were focused on this court.

Before the game, the broadcast camera panned to the Lakers' bench.

The Team Doctor was performing final emergency treatment on Kobe's knee; a cortisone shot was injected without hesitation.

The moment the needle pierced the flesh, the muscles on Kobe's face tightened violently, and the veins on his forehead bulged.

The intense pain almost made him cry out.

But he endured it.

A second later, the pain on his face vanished without a trace, replaced by that familiar, chilling determination.

"Beep—!"

The whistle for the start of the game blew.

From the very first second, the atmosphere on the court was explosive.

No testing the waters, no holding back.

Both sides brought out their highest-intensity playoff defense.

The first time James got the ball, Artest stuck to him like glue, using all sorts of small tricks to interfere.

The first time Lin Feng received the ball, Wade and Battier immediately formed a double-team, not even giving him a chance to turn comfortably.

This was no longer a flamboyant display of offensive trading.

This was a grueling, physical battle of attrition in the half-court.

Every dribble had to withstand immense physical contact.

Every pass had to be cautious.

Every shot was taken under the most difficult circumstances.

*Bang!*

Under a double-team, Lin Feng forced a fadeaway jumper; the basketball clattered against the front rim.

*Clang!*

James pushed through the defense of Howard and Gasol for a forced layup, which also missed.

After a full five minutes in the first quarter, the score between the two sides had only reached a difficult 4-2.

Every point felt like it was being ripped away from the opponent's flesh and blood.

Lin Feng was bogged down in the opponent's defensive mire.

James similarly found it hard to move an inch.

Both superstars were being tightly restricted by the opponent's iron-tight defense.

Just as the Lakers' offense ground to a halt.

A familiar figure called for the ball in the low post.

Kobe Bryant.

He had his back to Battier, who was defending him; that right leg, which had received the cortisone shot, was planted as firmly as a nail on the floor.

One bump.

Two bumps.

He pushed against Battier with his shoulder, then executed an extremely skillful turnaround.

The movement was no longer light; it was even a bit slow.

But his wealth of experience and perfect sense of rhythm still created a sliver of space for him.

Fadeaway jumper.

The basketball traced a familiar arc through the air.

*Swish!*

Nothing but net!

At the team's most difficult moment, the veteran dragging an injured leg stabilized the situation in his most iconic way.

He couldn't run, and he couldn't jump.

But he could still score.

In his limited playing time, Kobe was like the sharpest dagger, keeping the score close with one clutch mid-range jumper after another.

The brutality of the game exceeded everyone's imagination.

Nash was slammed to the ground by Wade during a drive and didn't get up for a long time.

During a rebound attempt, Bosh's brow was split open by Howard's iron elbow, and blood flowed incessantly.

Players were constantly falling, getting up, and falling again.

The court was filled with the sound of clashing muscles and angry roars.

This was no longer just a basketball game.

This was a trial of willpower.

And so, the game was dragged into the final seconds.

In the fourth quarter, only 30 seconds remained.

The score on the screen was 98-98!

The two sides were tied once again!

Heat ball.

James held the ball, glancing at the shot clock, bleeding the time.

This time, he didn't hesitate for a second.

With 8 seconds left on the shot clock, he made his move!

Like a beast breaking out of its cage, he barreled toward the Lakers' paint!

Three Lakers players collapsed the defense!

In mid-air, facing the three-man wall, James used an unbelievable double-clutch to toss the ball up!

The basketball circled the rim twice.

Then, it slowly rolled out!

Howard grabbed the crucial defensive rebound!

The Lakers called for a timeout!

They had one last chance for a game-winner with 5 seconds left!

D'Antoni drew up the simplest play on the tactical board: give the ball to Lin Feng!

Back from the timeout.

Lin Feng received the ball in the backcourt, facing James's personal defense!

3 seconds left!

2 seconds!

Lin Feng made a powerful drive and pulled up for a step-back three!

The ball flew toward the hoop!

Everyone held their breath!

*Clang!*

The ball hit the back of the rim and bounced high!

The game-winner failed!

The final buzzer sounded!

The game was dragged into overtime!

Both sides' energy was at its absolute breaking point!