97: The straw that broke the camel's back! The collapse of Los Angeles!

That lonely, staggering back, completely covered by a towel, spread across the world through the broadcast camera.

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

Lin Feng stood in place, motionless.

His heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly 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 what was the result?

Not only did he fail to win a single victory for his idol,

but instead, he might have become the culprit who accelerated the consumption of the end of his career.

If it weren't to create space for him, if it weren't to share the pressure for him, Kobe might not have had to take that damn injection at all.

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

“Beep—!”

The final whistle finally blew.

105 to 80.

The Lakers trailed 0-2 in the series.

The atmosphere at the post-game press conference was like frozen ice.

D'Antoni sat on the stage, the wrinkles on his face much deeper than usual, looking as if he had aged ten years.

Kobe did not attend.

Lin Feng sat next to him, expressionless, but his clenched fists betrayed the turmoil in his heart.

The reporters below were like sharks smelling blood, aiming their cameras and microphones at them.

One reporter was the first to attack.

“Coach D'Antoni, how is Kobe's injury? Can he play in the third game?”

D'Antoni's lips moved, his voice incredibly raspy.

“His situation... is not optimistic.”

“The Team Doctor is conducting a full evaluation.”

“As for G3, his current status is... Questionable.”

The word “Questionable” was like a sentence.

Every reporter present understood it was just official diplomatic jargon.

Translated, it meant: Kobe is finished, the Lakers are finished.

The flashes instantly became more intense, all aimed at Lin Feng, who remained silent beside D'Antoni.

“Lin! As the team's second core, how do you evaluate your performance tonight?”

“Did your individualistic style disrupt the team's tactical system? Do you think you should take primary responsibility for this crushing defeat and Kobe's injury?”

The questions were increasingly sharp and heart-piercing.

Lin Feng raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the excited faces below.

He didn't argue, he didn't explain.

He just picked up the microphone, his voice as cold as ice.

“I didn't play well.”

After saying that, he put down the microphone and didn't look at anyone again.

This silence was interpreted by reporters as admission and a guilty conscience.

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

If he was the hero of Los Angeles after the game-winner against the Jazz, now he was the city's sinner.

“Lin Feng's magic disappeared in San Antonio! He's been knocked back to his original form!”

“It turns out that that kind of unreasonable circus basketball can never win real playoff games!”

“The Los Angeles Lakers are finished, just wait to be swept!”

However, that wasn't the worst part.

Worse than the loss was the full-scale backlash from public opinion.

No one knew who started it, but the gossip about Lin Feng's “messy entanglements,” which had been suppressed because of his game-winner, was dug up again.

And this time, they were tightly linked to this crushing defeat and Kobe's serious injury.

An influential gossip media outlet published an in-depth report with a definitive tone.

《From L.A.'s Darling to Sinner: How Lin Feng Was Dragged Down by His Private Life?》

The report didn't name names directly, but used highly suggestive writing to involve Yoona, Scarlett Johansson, and even Taylor Swift.

“According to insiders, after arriving in Los Angeles, this Eastern talent quickly fell into complex emotional entanglements with multiple top celebrities.”

“One is a top idol from the East, one is a Hollywood sex goddess, and another is even a Grammy-level music queen.”

“He is like an energetic hunter trying to capture all the prey, but this has greatly distracted his energy.”

“Team insiders complained that his performance fluctuated during key preparation periods, which is not unrelated to his chaotic private life.”

“And Kobe Bryant, the veteran burning the last of his career, had to repeatedly fill the holes for his young teammate, eventually leading to that tragic scene.”

This report was like a heavy bomb, completely detonating public opinion.

Conspiracy theories were everywhere.

All the dirty water was poured onto Lin Feng at this moment.

“So that's it! No wonder his form dropped so fast! It turns out his body was drained!”

“Scumbag! He couldn't control his lower half, but Kobe has to pay for it!”

“Poor leader, he gave his last hope to this bastard!”

Los Angeles.

The lights in Yoona's apartment stayed on all night.

She was curled up on the sofa in an oversized nightgown, her face pale as she looked at the news on her tablet.

The report had been translated into various languages and was spreading across the global internet.

Her social media account was completely overrun.

The comments were no longer the usual praise and admiration.

“Yoona, leave that scumbag! He doesn't deserve you!”

“Our goddess is so pitiful, to be deceived by such a person!”

“He ruined the Lakers, and he will ruin you too! Wake up!”

These so-called expressions of “sympathy” and “concern” were like sharp knives cutting into her heart.

She knew Lin Feng wasn't that kind of person.

But looking at Lin Feng's cold and exhausted face at the press conference on the screen, and looking at Kobe's lonely back as he was helped off the court,

her heart was also in turmoil.

Meanwhile.

On the team's private plane returning to Los Angeles.

The atmosphere was dead silent.

The players were either wearing noise-canceling headphones or covering their faces with towels; no one wanted to talk.

This plane felt less like it was flying back to their home court and more like it was flying toward a grave.

Lin Feng sat by the window, looking at the pitch-black clouds outside.

His phone vibrated.

It was his Agent, Jeff Austin, calling.

Lin Feng picked up the phone but didn't speak.

On the other end, Jeff's voice sounded frazzled.

“Lin, something big happened.”

“Scarlett Johansson's PR team just called me, and their tone was very firm.”

“They believe this storm of public opinion has seriously affected Scarlett's public image, making her a suspect for being a 'third party'.”

Jeff paused, his voice dropping even lower.

“Also... Taylor Swift's side also expressed similar concerns through their record label.”

“Lin, we are very vulnerable right now. This storm is no longer just sports news; it's evolving into a PR disaster sweeping the entire entertainment industry!”

Lin Feng listened silently.

The accusations from the media, the insults from fans, and now, pressure from the teams behind the women he had once crossed paths with.

Unprecedented pressure, like a mountain, pressed down on him alone from all sides.

He hung up the phone.

In his mind, the image of Kobe falling kept replaying.

He took out his phone and subconsciously opened the chat with Yoona.

He wanted to explain.

He wanted to tell her that things weren't as the media said.

He wanted to tell her that he was suffering right now.

But he typed a line and deleted it.

Typed again, deleted again.

What could he say?

Say that he was destroyed by a system?

Say that he failed Kobe's trust?

Say that he was like a stray dog right now?

He couldn't say these things.

Just as he was staring at the blank input box in a daze,

the phone screen suddenly lit up.

A new message popped up.

It was from Yoona.

Lin Feng's heart skipped a beat.

He opened the message.

The content was simple, just a single short sentence.

But it was like the sharpest, ice-quenched blade, stabbing hard into his heart.

“I'm returning to Korea tomorrow.”

“Los Angeles... is too tiring.”