23: The prototype of the Mamba disciples

Lin Feng propped himself up on the floor, trying to climb back up.

The spot on his chest where he had been hit was burning with pain, and the sharp ache in his tailbone made every movement feel like enduring torture.

But he didn't make a sound, didn't complain, and didn't hesitate for a second.

There was no grievance in his eyes, only a flame that had been ignited.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up with trembling arms and stood before Kobe once again.

"Continue."

Lin Feng's voice was hoarse but incredibly firm.

Kobe looked at him. The indifference in his eyes hadn't changed, but something seemed to flash deep within them.

"Defend me."

Kobe repeated the previous movement, backing into Lin Feng.

This time, Lin Feng lowered his center of gravity even further, his legs like roots planted into the floor.

Thud!

Kobe exerted force again.

Lin Feng felt like he had been hit by a bull again, his body sliding back a step uncontrollably, but this time he held his ground firmly and didn't fall.

The friction between his sneakers and the floor let out a piercing screech.

Kobe was a bit surprised. He exerted force again, using his shoulders and back to hit Lin Feng's chest over and over.

Lin Feng felt his internal organs churning, but he refused to retreat.

Only one thought remained in his mind: hold on!

He didn't know how he was managing to endure it.

The soreness of his body had long since gone numb, replaced by a strange sensation.

After every impact, a warm current would surge from deep within his muscles, quickly repairing fatigue and damage, allowing his physical stamina to recover at an illogical speed.

This was the passively enhanced physical fitness brought by the system.

It allowed him to withstand the hellish training intensity imposed by the man in front of him.

Kobe stopped the bumping.

He turned around and, for the first time, took a serious look at Lin Feng's stance.

"Your lower body is still like a noodle."

Although his words were still a harsh critique, he didn't make Lin Feng continue as a human punching bag.

"Watch."

Kobe stood at the free-throw line and began to feed him the ball personally.

He passed the ball to Lin Feng, then became the defender himself, enveloping Lin Feng with highly oppressive, tight defense.

"Your weapon is your shot."

Kobe's voice sounded in Lin Feng's ear like a demon's whisper.

"So every movement you make must serve your shot."

As he spoke, he constantly applied physical contact to Lin Feng, interfering with his dribbling and posture.

"The drive and the post-up are both meant to make your shot easier."

"They are the lies you tell the defender just so you can get that shot off."

Under Kobe's tight defense, even turning around became difficult for Lin Feng.

"Use your footwork, use your shoulders, use your eyes to deceive him!"

Kobe's defensive pressure was immense.

Lin Feng tried to dribble, but Kobe's arm firmly blocked his position.

He tried to turn, but felt like he had run into a wall.

"Is your body dead? Move it!"

Kobe roared.

Lin Feng gritted his teeth, recalling the feeling of being hit by Kobe earlier, and began trying to find space using shoulder fakes.

He dropped his shoulder to the left.

Kobe's center of gravity shifted slightly.

Now!

Lin Feng pivoted sharply to the right!

This time, he successfully completed half the turn!

Though the movement was still stiff and his control of the ball was a bit shaky, for the first time, he created a sliver of space under Kobe's defense.

For the first time, a trace of imperceptible appreciation truly flickered in Kobe's eyes.

This kid's learning ability was frighteningly fast.

"And after the turn?"

Kobe's voice rang out again as he quickly adjusted his position to block Lin Feng once more.

"Your goal is the shot! You don't turn just for the sake of turning!"

Lin Feng's mind raced.

The shot... right, the shot.

He tried again. This time, as he turned right, he didn't choose to continue the drive but instead transitioned into a fadeaway.

He raised the ball, stretching his body as much as possible in the air, mimicking the countless fadeaway jumpers of Kobe in his memory.

The movement was very stiff, and the power transfer was completely wrong.

The basketball flew from his fingertips, tracing a crooked arc.

Clang!

The ball hit the side of the backboard, missing by a mile.

However, Lin Feng's eyes were startlingly bright.

The moment he released the ball, he felt a brand new door slowly opening to him.

So this was what it felt like to create shooting space with your body.

So this was Kobe's weapon.

"Again!"

Lin Feng picked up the ball, his eyes full of hunger.

Kobe didn't speak; he just reset his defensive stance.

Once.

Twice.

Ten times.

A hundred times.

Lin Feng tirelessly repeated the same movement.

Turn, fade, jump shot.

From initial stiffness and awkwardness to gradual fluidity.

From hitting the side of the backboard to hitting the rim, and then occasionally getting lucky enough for one or two to roll in.

He was completely immersed in this exploration of new technique, forgetting the passage of time and the fatigue of his body.

Until a cold bottle of liquid was pressed against his cheek.

Only then did Lin Feng snap out of his state.

He turned his head and saw Kobe standing beside him, handing him an unlabeled sports drink.

The practice facility's main lights had been fully turned on at some point, brightly illuminating the entire arena.

Lin Feng looked down at himself. His practice gear was already soaked through, as if he had just been pulled out of water; a hard wring would produce a large puddle.

"Tomorrow, same time."

Kobe dropped those words and turned toward the locker room.

Lin Feng opened the special sports drink and took a huge gulp.

A cool energy flowed down his throat and through his body, quickly replenishing his exhausted stamina.

He watched Kobe's departing back and clenched his fist.

Just then, at the other end of the practice facility, a middle-aged man in team staff clothing stepped out from behind the equipment room.

It was the team's Video Analyst, Patterson.

He had only arrived early out of habit, but he hadn't expected to see a scene like this.

He had been hiding in the back, watching the last half-hour of their morning practice.

He had seen how Lin Feng went from a clumsy imitator to mastering the prototype of that move in such a short time.

Patterson's face was full of shock.

This rate of improvement... was simply inconceivable.

He watched Lin Feng pick up the basketball and walk to the free-throw line once more.

Lin Feng took a deep breath and performed the move again.

Turn, fade, jump shot.

The whole movement was still a bit raw, but it already carried the shadow of the Mamba.

Swish!

The ball went through the net cleanly.

Patterson instinctively raised his phone and hit record, capturing that perfect shot in its entirety.

He looked at the video on his phone. In the frame, that young figure seemed to slowly overlap with the memory of another Number 24.

Patterson's fingers trembled slightly.

He hesitated for a long time before finally opening his email.

He sent the dozen-second video via encrypted email to the Lakers' General Manager, Mitch Kupchak.

For the subject of the email, he wrote only one sentence:

"A surprise you must see."