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墨書 Inktalez
The first quarter ended, 33:28.
The Trick Team had once held a significant lead, with Poole igniting the arena like a madman. However, under the seamless coordination of Luka Doncic, Harden, and Jokic, the gap gradually narrowed, and the atmosphere shifted as dramatically as a sudden tide.
The camera cut to the Trick Team's bench.
Something was off.
Mother Zhang's smile had vanished, replaced by a face filled with fury, one that seemed ready to tear Poole apart.
She gripped her rose gold phone tightly, stood up, and walked to the front of the bench.
"You. Get up."
Poole was wiping sweat off his brow, wearing an innocent expression that seemed to say, "Aren't I playing well?"
Mother Zhang growled softly, but her voice thundered:
"Do you think this is a TikTok performance? I remember how many three-pointers you made, but I also remember how many times you slipped, how many times you got faked out, and every useless piece of trash talk that came out of your mouth! I remember it all!"
Poole's face froze. "I just wanted to make the game more interesting..."
"Are you a clown?" Mother Zhang's gaze was sharp enough to cut glass. "This isn't your stage for comedy; this is my altar of cunning glory!"
Poole lowered his head and asked softly, "Do I still have a chance to play...?"
Mother Zhang let out a cold smile, turning her back on him and shouting towards the coaching bench,
"Let Kyrie Irving take the court."
Beside her, the person who had remained silent for a long time slowly stood up.
Kyrie Irving.
He wasn't wearing a jersey; instead, he draped a large cloak adorned with various runes over his shoulders.
The moment he stood up, it was as if an invisible wind had been summoned.
In his left hand, he held a bundle of ignited Sage, from which white smoke began to rise; his right hand gradually opened, revealing a mysterious pattern on his palm that resembled the trajectory of stars in motion.
As he walked around the court, the smoke wafted around him. Wherever he went, the scorekeepers, photographers, and even opposing fans displayed a hint of dazed expressions.
Kyrie Irving murmured softly,
"God's Left Hand... Evil's Right Hand..."
"I, Kyrie Irving, Starwalker, Fourth Consciousness Liberator, the final controller of Basketball Dream..."
He paused just beyond the three-point line, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. With a flick of his wrist, he extinguished the flame of the Sage, leaving only swirling smoke in its wake.
"This quarter, no one can stop me."
Poole sat on the bench, watching Kyrie Irving radiate an aura of mystique, and couldn't help but whisper to Tatum, "Hey... doesn't our team feel a bit like an RPG adventure party?"
Tatum shot him a glance. "You're the item master."
Curry smiled. "Don't worry, when Kyrie's on the court, the atmosphere becomes unpredictably exciting."
Mother Zhang turned to look at Kyrie Irving on the court, softly murmuring, "Activate your mysterious script... the true magician of the Trick Team."
As the second quarter was about to begin, the air in Oracle Arena still vibrated with the echoes of the last few counterattacks from the first quarter.
On the Heavenly Kings Team's bench, the atmosphere was somewhat tense. Bill quietly wiped his sweaty hands, KD tugged at his shorts while catching his breath, and although Luka Doncic had just pulled off an incredible play, he showed no signs of relaxation. Just as everyone furrowed their brows in concern, a familiar, slightly playful hearty laugh broke the silence.
Harden, with his big beard and reputation as the founder of step-back shots, a perennial MVP candidate at nightclubs, patted Luka Doncic and KD on their backs while laughing and saying, "Relax! The Trick Team is just human, not aliens. Poole's fall from earlier is still echoing in my mind."
He tossed the ball lightly into the air and caught it effortlessly, his gaze relaxed and a smile playing on his lips. "If they pull off another rhythm like that, they'll crumble like a collapsed chip can before your eyes."
KD gave a wry smile. "You really can find something to laugh about at any moment."
Harden turned to Jay Chou and made a gesture that signaled, "Leave it to me."
Jay Chou's eyes sparkled, as if he had seen a phoenix dancing at the three-point line. He stood up, waving his nunchaku like a fan, cooling down the players while keeping the rhythm with his voice:
"Fast pace, no fear; stay calm and we can turn it around—three defenders still need to get wound up!"
Amidst this strange yet highly positive atmosphere, two faces suddenly appeared on the big screen in the center of the court.
Xiao Fu vs Lin Shu-Wei.
The host announced, "Ladies and gentlemen—let's welcome our two special guests! We are about to have a fun competition on the sidelines! Let's see who can make the Logo Shot first!"
The crowd erupted in cheers!
Xiao Fu, dressed in a hip-hop outfit from the night market, spun the ball three times before shrugging and said, "People like me have played against The Professor; his shots aren't as stylish as mine."
Lin Shu-Wei looked shy, propping himself on his knee to catch his breath. He quietly said, "You know... this Logo Shot thing... players in America love it... we in Asia can do it too..."
Xiao Fu took his first shot—bang! It hit the scoreboard directly, causing the audience to burst into laughter.
"Wow! That Logo Shot almost hit the referee!"
Lin Shu-Wei took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second, and shot—
Swish! It went in!
The crowd erupted into chaos as Xiao Fu's expression darkened. "Hey, wait a minute! I just aimed too high..."
Lin Shu-Wei raised his hand humbly and said, "Oh, thank you... this is just basic skill, you know..."
Xiao Fu, not willing to back down, took another shot—
Bang! The ball hit the corner of the backboard and bounced back, hitting his own knee!
The audience burst into laughter as Xiao Fu hopped around, saying, "I was just here to entertain you all! I wasn't taking it seriously!"
Jay Chou was doubled over with laughter on the sidelines and said to Harden, "Now this is what I call a real break."
The referee blew the whistle, and both teams regrouped, reigniting the intensity on the court.
Meanwhile, on the Trick Team's side, Kyrie Irving had finished channeling Sage. Standing at midcourt with his hands clasped together, he closed his eyes and murmured:
"The second quarter belongs to me and the stars."
Harden adjusted his jersey and glanced back at Jay Chou as he stepped onto the court. "I'm ready to dance now; this time, the rhythm needs to be faster."
Jay Chou held a nunchaku in one hand and lightly tapped out a beat with the other. "Then show the whole world your moves."
The second quarter was about to begin.
And thus, the second quarter officially kicked off.
The ball returned to the court, and the intensity instantly escalated. This was no longer a one-sided scheme of suppression, but a scoring ritual between basketball deities.
The Heavenly Kings Team continued with the three-guard lineup from the end of the first quarter—Harden, Luka Doncic, and KD—alongside Jokic, who stood in the Restricted Area like a war god, and Bill, who floated through mid-range like a ghost.
In the first wave of offense, Harden brought the ball past half court.
Poole had long since exited the game, and on the court for the Trick Team were Curry, Kyrie Irving, Tatum, LeBron, and Wembanyama.
The defensive formation appeared solid, but the movement and passing of the three guards resembled three high-speed currents intertwining, weaving a space of instant movement across the floor.
Harden passed the ball to Luka Doncic and circled out from the wing. Luka pretended to return it but instead made a behind-the-back pass to KD—
KD caught the ball and shot! A three-pointer!
Swish! It was good!
The Heavenly Kings Team opened their scoring account, bringing the score to 33:31, just a two-point difference!
On the next play, Kyrie Irving advanced slowly, as if entering a slow-motion realm.
Harden stepped up to defend, his gaze cautious.
But Kyrie lowered his head with a smile.
His ball handling was like wind brushing over glass beads—seemingly effortless. With two quick crossovers and changes of pace in half a second, he managed to shake Harden just enough to create space.
As he approached the basket, he maneuvered around the double team with an otherworldly layup, using his left hand to toss the ball off the backboard—
Bang! Swish! It’s in!
The crowd erupted into screams, as if witnessing a miracle.
“This guy’s left hand is like it was sculpted by the gods!”
KD watched Kyrie Irving retreating on defense and whispered, “This isn’t basketball; this is divine revelation.”
Back on the offensive end, the Heavenly Kings Team continued to respond fluidly to the pressure from the Trick Team.
The ball found its way into Jokic's hands as he orchestrated from the high post.
Wembanyama stood in front of him, arms spread wide like wings.
But Jokic was unhurried. He resembled a sage sipping tea on the grasslands, backing down before pivoting, faking a move, then pretending to pass. He executed a series of low-post footwork—spin, turn, spin again!
Even with his octopus-like wingspan, Wembanyama lost all sense of balance!
After the fifth fake, Jokic finally made his move and gently laid the ball up, watching it roll slowly into the hoop.
35:33, the Heavenly Kings Team had tied it up!
This game had transformed into a surreal showdown of skill versus talent, rhythm versus spirit, and fakes versus divine ball control.
The Trick Team retaliated, this time led by Curry.
He didn’t give Kyrie Irving a chance to waste any opportunities. With a swift move, he received the ball and jumped straight up—
Three points scored!
38:35, the Trick Team pulled ahead again!
The crowd erupted with excitement, so much so that even the referee almost forgot to keep score.
Back on the Heavenly Kings Team's side, Luka Doncic brought the ball across half court. He appeared slow, but his precision was unmatched. Using a pick-and-roll with Harden, he attracted the defense before passing it back to KD.
KD hesitated for a moment but didn’t shoot; instead, he passed the ball to Harden on the perimeter.
Harden received the ball, stepped back, stepped back again, faked a shot, then took a real shot—bang!
It missed!
The rebound was snatched by Jokic from Wembanyama’s grasp, and he scored with a strong putback!
Wembanyama gritted his teeth in frustration, unable to comprehend why this bulky player seemed to be everywhere despite his slow movements.
As they transitioned back on defense, Kyrie Irving received the ball once more.
This time, he cut straight through the middle, facing Luka Doncic's tight defense and Bill's help defense—
He actually found a gap smaller than a shoelace between the two players, dribbling the ball through his knees. In an instant, he sidestepped to retrieve the ball, turned his back to create distance, and shot while leaning back!
It went in!
The crowd erupted!
“How on earth did that go in!?”
“Did he just open a time-space rift!?”
Jay Chou watched the ball-handling showdown on the court and couldn't help but tap his nunchaku lightly on the floor, saying to Harden, “If you don’t bring out your ace soon, this guy is going to start dancing the Interstellar Tango.”
Harden licked his lips and smiled, “I was just warming up.”
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