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墨書 Inktalez
The day of the decisive battle has arrived.
In California, Oakland, the once-retired Oracle Arena is being revived today.
Even before the doors opened, the crowd surged like a wave. The entire city felt like a giant beast awakening for basketball, with tens of thousands lining up since five in the morning, many draped in the jerseys of their favorite players, carrying projection screens and even portable water heaters on their shoulders, as they planned to stay for three days.
The sky was painted in shades of crimson dawn, but the ground was already a boiling sea of people.
Staff at the venue remarked, "We originally prepared security materials for fifty thousand people, but eleven thousand showed up."
Outside Oracle Arena, officials had set up nine massive LED screens, each towering three stories high, with one even placed on a helicopter platform for drones and aerial cameras to broadcast to viewers. The streets were blocked off, helicopters hovered above, and media reporters nearly fought over interview spots. The entire highway had turned into a viewing area, with the Governor of California personally tweeting: "This is not just a game; this is a modern myth."
Inside Oracle Arena—
This was the epicenter of history.
On the left side of the court, the Trick Team was warming up. Poole was covered in metallic tape, shooting hoops while taking selfies; Tatum sat expressionless beyond the three-point line; Wembanyama wore high-tech knee pads and conversed with himself in French; LeBron stood in the Restricted Area wearing a shirt that read "I Am The System," arms outstretched like a statue in a cathedral.
On the right side, the Heavenly Kings Team took the stage. Harden wore a long-sleeve shirt emblazoned with "Just Step Back," retreating like he was performing Tai Chi; Bill closed his eyes to warm up, with only the rhythm of his ball against the floor filling the air; KD donned headphones while sketching arc after arc of his fadeaway shot; Giannis Antetokounmpo pounded his chest with his fist as if to awaken the entire league; Jokic stood motionless at the sidelines like a mountain.
Jay Chou wore a deep blue coach's jacket with nunchaku tied at his back, standing at the sidelines with his eyes closed, listening to his song "Ceasefire Wound."
Just fifteen minutes before the game began, a black armored vehicle drove into the arena's underground parking lot.
The atmosphere instantly froze.
Because that vehicle had only one letter on its license plate: J.
A few seconds later, a line of golden text appeared on the screen:
"G.O.A.T has entered the building."
The camera shifted to the VIP room—Michael Jordan made his entrance.
Wearing sunglasses and holding a specially crafted cocktail with a cigar, he donned a black suit emblazoned with his iconic Jumpman logo. Surrounded by bodyguards, he took a seat, removed his shades, and squinted at the court.
An ESPN reporter rushed over, "Mr. Jordan, now that you're here in person, do you have anything to say?"
Michael Jordan squinted and smiled faintly:
"This is far more exhilarating than when I played in the Finals back in the day."
He raised his hand and pointed to the court:
"Today's game isn't about who scores. It's about who can put their soul on the line out there."
With those words, the crowd erupted.
Fans went wild with applause, social media exploded, and global media outlets immediately ran headlines:
"Michael Jordan speaks: 'This is a battle for the soul.'"
"G.O.A.T arrives on site, witnessing a legend reborn."
"Today, basketball will write a new myth."
The audience inside and outside the arena fell into a religious fervor; hundreds were moved to tears, many raised their sneakers to the sky and shouted, "Who dares to lose today? I won't be human anymore!"
The referees took their positions at the sidelines as the arena lights dimmed, leaving only one spotlight focused on center court.
The big screen slowly displayed black text on a white background:
THE FINAL GAME
Justice vs. Deception
Jay Chou gently patted Harden's shoulder. "Go on, it's time for the world to remember your names."
Poole turned his head, licked his lips, and struck a selfie pose for the camera. "I'm going to make today my music video."
The referee raised the basketball and took a deep breath.
The world stood still. Thousands held their breath. The arbiter tossed the ball into the air—
The jump began.
The first quarter officially started.
As the referee launched the ball high into the air, Jokic and Wembanyama leaped simultaneously, and a deafening roar erupted from the crowd of hundreds of thousands. Even the massive LED screens outside the arena trembled slightly, as if all the gravity in the world was concentrated on that one basketball.
The ball landed in the hands of the Trick Team.
The first offensive play was initiated by Curry, who controlled the ball with grace. He glided across half court, his eyes scanning the entire arena like a radar in action. Without any unnecessary movements, he executed a simple right-side maneuver, while Tatum circled around to set a screen. As soon as he received the pass, Tatum immediately launched a three-pointer.
The ball flew like a bullet, swish—nothing but net!
3:0, the Trick Team took an early lead!
The Trick Team supporters erupted in cheers, waving banners that read "Not a step back!" like waves reaching for the sky.
The Heavenly Kings Team quickly countered, with Harden bringing the ball past half court. He dribbled while observing the defense but faced a trap set by Curry and LeBron closing in on him.
He tried to retreat in search of space, but the Trick Team had already set up their defense against his rhythm. Just as he was about to pass the ball to KD—
LeBron anticipated perfectly, taking a big step forward to intercept the pass!
The ball was snatched by the Trick Team, and they launched an instant fast break!
This time, Wembanyama took control of the ball! Yes, the Trick Team deliberately let him advance, like a crazed sprinting tank. Giannis Antetokounmpo attempted to interfere, but Wembanyama executed a crossover followed by a Euro step—
And dunked it with one hand successfully!
5-0!
The Trick Team supporters on the LED wall outside went wild. Poole stood up on the bench, shouting, "Yes! We just wrote the first page of our story!"
The ball returned to the Heavenly Kings Team. This time, KD led the offense, facing a double wall of Tatum and LeBron as he tried to dribble and create space.
But Tatum stayed tight on him, not giving an inch in his defense. KD turned and shot a fadeaway; the arc was perfect—
Bang! It hit the rim.
Wembanyama grabbed the rebound high and immediately pushed forward again.
This time, Curry caught the ball and stopped just outside the three-point line, faking a pass before suddenly jumping back for a three-point shot!
Swish—!
8-0!
The Three Wave Offensive began with two three-pointers and a powerful dunk, and the Trick Team came out like they were equipped with turbo engines, shaking the ground beneath them.
On the sidelines of the Heavenly Kings Team, Jay Chou twitched his mouth as the Nunchaku made a soft sound.
"Hmm... they're really fierce today," he remarked.
Tong Ning Shi, sitting quietly behind the bench, observed the court and murmured, "Mother Zhang's 'three-minute opening suppression tactic' is really in play... she bought that illegal data module three years ago in Italy."
The Heavenly Kings Team regained possession, this time with Jokic at the top of the key organizing the offense. After a handoff with Harden, he set up KD for a low-post isolation.
KD shook off Tatum with a quick move and decisively took the shot—
Swish! It went in!
The crowd erupted in applause, but the Trick Team remained unfazed.
On the next play, Curry ran from the left side, weaving through two screens. As soon as he received the ball, he launched an audacious three-pointer—
It went in!
11-2!
Jay Chou stood up and softly said, "This can't continue."
Just two and a half minutes into the game, the Trick Team had already scored three three-pointers, a fast-break dunk, and a mid-range shot, completely dominating the pace against the Heavenly Kings Team.
The audience began to feel anxious, glancing at Bill on the bench of the Heavenly Kings Team. He had yet to enter the game; he simply stood up to warm up, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
Meanwhile, Poole was dancing on the other side, singing, "I haven't even stepped on the court yet and we're winning like this—am I a bit too much of a main character?"
The game continued, and the Trick Team launched another fast break. Tatum drew the defense and passed the ball to Wembanyama, who took off in response—
With a powerful two-handed slam dunk!
13:2!
The crowd erupted in cheers, and the atmosphere reached a fever pitch for the Trick Team.
The bench of the Heavenly Kings Team began to stir. Jay Chou whispered,
"One more basket, and Bill will come in."
Less than five minutes into the first quarter, the Trick Team had completely controlled the pace, hitting five consecutive shots, each one a stunning blow.
But everyone in the arena knew—the Heavenly Kings Team hadn’t truly begun to fight back yet.
The real counterattack was just waiting for one name:
Bradley Beal.
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