96: The final glimpse of his departing figure! A hero's twilight!

Kobe's eyes were fixed on Lin Feng; within them lay his final, and total, hope.

"We must find a way to shatter their damn system."

"It depends on you, understand?"

Those words were like a red-hot iron, branded onto Lin Feng's heart.

He watched Kobe turn and limp toward the court, his silhouette carrying a tragic sense of determination.

Lin Feng clenched his fists.

He understood.

This game was no longer a simple matter of winning or losing.

This was the final battle Kobe had staked his entire career on.

He, Lin Feng, was the last card Kobe had pushed onto the gambling table.

"Beep—!"

The whistle for the second half sounded.

Lin Feng received the ball. Nothing else remained in his eyes but the rim.

He was going to use the most unreasonable method to completely tear the Spurs' defense to shreds!

He activated Formless Shot once again, facing Danny Green's tight defense, and threw the ball with an exaggerated fadeaway angle.

In the first half, he had made more than one of these shots.

Clang!

The basketball hit the back of the rim and bounced high into the air.

Lin Feng's body landed, and a burning pain radiated from his chest.

The high-intensity physical contact meant he could no longer maintain that miraculous, steady touch.

The San Antonio Spurs grabbed the rebound. Popovich, standing on the sidelines, simply made a small gesture.

The defensive strategy had changed.

The next possession, when Lin Feng held the ball again.

Danny Green and Leonard didn't even wait for him to make a move; they closed in like two doors, trapping him tightly in the middle.

A resolute, unwavering double-team.

Popovich was forcing him to give up the ball.

Lin Feng was forced to pass the ball to Nash nearby.

Nash caught the ball and tried to organize the offense.

But as soon as he looked up, the San Antonio Spurs' defensive rotation had already surged forward like a tide.

Parker, in front of him, hadn't lost his position at all.

The passing lanes were all sealed off.

Only a few seconds remained on the shot clock.

Nash could only desperately throw the ball to Gasol in the paint.

Under Duncan's interference, Gasol took a hurried shot.

Thud!

The basketball missed again.

The Los Angeles Lakers' offense had fallen into a complete standstill.

Meanwhile, the San Antonio Spurs continued to tear at the Lakers' defense with their agonizing pace, steadily widening the point gap.

"Give me the ball."

Kobe's voice suddenly rang out.

Dragging his injured leg, he actively ran out to demand the ball.

Leonard stuck to him like glue.

Kobe gritted his teeth, using every ounce of strength to force a turnaround.

He tried to open up the game using the method he knew best.

But every time he exerted force, it felt like hitting an invisible wall.

That numb left leg simply couldn't provide him with enough explosive power.

In the end, he could only rely on his incredible core strength to complete a ridiculously high fadeaway jumper.

Clang!

Another crisp sound of the ball hitting the iron.

The basketball didn't even touch the rim; it hit the backboard directly.

A flash of bewilderment that even he didn't notice crossed Kobe's face.

He looked at his hands, as if asking: why? Why won't my body follow my commands anymore?

The game thus entered the fourth quarter.

The numbers on the scoreboard read 92 to 70.

The Los Angeles Lakers were already trailing by 22 points.

Defeat was certain.

The atmosphere in the AT&T Center became somewhat subtle.

There was no wild joy on the faces of the Spurs fans, only a sense of matter-of-fact calm.

At the commentary desk, the TNT analysts had already begun discussing a harsher topic.

"Will the San Antonio Spurs sweep the Lakers 4-0?"

"Based on these two games, I don't see any possibility of the Lakers winning."

"Kobe has reached his limit, and Lin Feng's individual heroism has been proven ineffective against the Spurs' system."

These voices were like needles, pricking the ears of every Lakers player.

Lin Feng refused to believe in fate.

He wanted to try one more time.

Like a crazed beast, he drove the ball toward the San Antonio Spurs' paint.

He was going to use his body to crash through and forge a path!

Thud!

Danny Green didn't give him the chance.

With a foul so fierce it was almost barbaric, he knocked Lin Feng directly to the floor.

Lin Feng slammed hard onto the hardwood, sliding several meters away.

The referee's whistle blew sharply.

Lin Feng sat on the cold floor, not getting up immediately.

He looked up at the massive, glaring scoreboard above the arena.

98 to 72.

The lead was still growing.

His chest heaved violently, sweat and dust from the floor mixing on his face.

A feeling he had never experienced before slowly welled up from the depths of his heart.

It wasn't anger, nor was it resentment.

It was despair.

A deep despair that no matter how one struggled, the outcome could not be changed.

For the first time, he discovered that basketball could make one feel so powerless.

Only two minutes remained in the game.

This had become the garbage-est of garbage time.

D'Antoni hadn't subbed out the starters; perhaps it was a form of silent punishment.

Kobe was on the court, dragging his leg, making symbolic runs.

Just then, he received a pass.

No one was in front of him.

The San Antonio Spurs had already given up on defending him.

This was a humiliation more cruel than any tight defense.

In that instant, the fire reignited in Kobe's eyes.

He dribbled, accelerated, and used the last bit of strength in his body, like a resolute warrior, to launch one final, tragic charge toward the rim.

He wanted to use a dunk to defend his final dignity.

But at the moment he jumped.

His battered left knee could no longer support his body.

With a soft 'pop' sound.

Kobe's body lost all power in mid-air.

Like a leaf blown down by the wind, he fell powerlessly and heavily beneath the basket.

The entire arena fell silent in an instant.

The Spurs fans, who had been politely clapping moments before, all stood up, their faces filled with shock.

"Kobe!"

"Boss!"

The Team Doctor and the Lakers players rushed onto the court like madmen.

They surrounded Kobe, fear etched on every face.

Kobe lay on the ground, eyes tightly shut, teeth clenched, his entire body trembling slightly.

He didn't make a sound, but his expression, twisted in agony, said everything.

The Team Doctor and Gasol, one on each side, carefully helped Kobe up from the floor.

He couldn't walk on his own.

His entire body weight was leaning on his teammates.

As he was supported step by step toward the player tunnel.

The twenty thousand spectators in the AT&T Center all stood up.

They spontaneously gave their great opponent the highest form of applause.

Kobe didn't look back.

He didn't even glance at anyone.

He simply took a towel from a staff member and pulled it over his head.

He didn't want anyone to see his expression at this moment.

That lonely, staggering silhouette, completely covered by the towel, was broadcast to the entire world.

It was also like a red-hot needle, deeply etched into Lin Feng's pupils.

Lin Feng stood in place, motionless.

His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible giant hand, hurting so much he couldn't breathe.

He realized he was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

He thought he was here to help Kobe fulfill his dream.

He thought his system and his talent could change everything.

But the result?

Not only had he failed to win a single game for his idol.

Instead, he might have become the culprit who accelerated the end of Kobe's career.

If it weren't to create space for him, if it weren't to share the pressure for him, Kobe might not have needed to take those damn painkiller injections at all.

That heavy, unspeakable guilt submerged Lin Feng completely like a tide.

"Beep—!"

The final whistle finally sounded.

105 to 80.

The Lakers were down 0-2 in the series.

Overwhelming criticism and mockery swept across the internet the second the game ended.

"Lin Feng's magic has vanished in San Antonio! He's been completely exposed!"

"It's been proven that that kind of unreasonable circus basketball can never win in the real playoffs!"

"The Lakers are done, just wait to be swept!"