Chapter Seventy-Four: Unleashed

"Give me the ball," Kobe demanded from Parker, who didn’t dare refuse. He’d rather be scolded by Phil Jackson after the game than endure a few icy glares from Kobe.

Besides, Phil Jackson might not even blame him for not following the play.

The ball landed in Kobe’s hands. Facing He Xinghui, he launched a three-pointer.

This kind of play was pure recklessness.

He Xinghui was known for his poor defense against drives, but when it came to contesting shots, he actually did a decent job thanks to his height and impressive wingspan.

At least, he was more than capable of handling Kobe at the same position.

He Xinghui leapt up, not only blocking Kobe’s vision but nearly touching the ball, making things as difficult as possible for Kobe.

But Kobe still made the shot.

It was infuriating.

When you’re in the zone, any shot is a good shot.

"See that, clown? That’s how you shoot," Kobe spat out, his face inches from He Xinghui’s.

In his excitement, Kobe didn’t pay attention to details and leaned in so close he nearly touched He Xinghui’s face with his lips.

He Xinghui recoiled in disgust and slapped Kobe’s face away, pushing his head aside—he had no intention of letting another man get that close.

Kobe thought He Xinghui was trying to hit him, and immediately swatted his hand away.

BEEP.

The whistle blew. The referee hurried over, thinking a fight had broken out.

He wasn’t the only one; the crowd and commentators thought the same.

After all, He Xinghui and Kobe had been jawing at each other non-stop since the start. The tension was palpable.

A scuffle at this point seemed perfectly reasonable.

“Oh, we've got a fight on the court!” Smith exclaimed, though he desperately hoped neither Kobe nor He Xinghui would get ejected—that would be a shame.

“Good job, hit him, Kobe!” Barkley cheered.

But Barkley was disappointed; the two were quickly separated.

The referee called a technical foul on He Xinghui for making contact first.

“This isn’t a fight! I was just trying to keep him from kissing me!” He Xinghui protested passionately to the referee. The tech felt utterly ridiculous.

If he’d known he’d get a technical anyway, he might as well have punched Kobe.

Not that he hated Kobe—it just felt like his career would be incomplete without a scrap with the Mamba.

Kaman quickly wrapped his arms around He Xinghui, pulling him away. Arguing with the referee now would only get him thrown out.

The official who blew the whistle realized he might have overreacted, but after checking the replay, he stuck to his call.

Overturning it would harm the referees’ authority.

Though it was unfair to He Xinghui, there were always ways to make it up—he’d just get more favorable calls the rest of the way.

As chaos reigned on the court, the camera panned to the stands.

There they were, Theron and Vanessa, laughing uproariously.

The crowd couldn’t help but admire their nerves of steel.

After a brief interruption, the game resumed.

“You despicable jerk. If you’re really a man, go explain it to the referee,” He Xinghui seethed as they returned to the court.

“Shut up, you whining baby. This is a man’s game,” Kobe shot back.

“Give me the ball,” He Xinghui demanded, extending his hand.

Cassell, thinking He Xinghui was fired up, passed it to him.

He Xinghui rose up and fired over Kobe.

Kobe, not one to back down, swatted at the shot and nearly caught He Xinghui’s hand.

But from the referee’s angle, it looked like a clear slap on the arm.

The shot fell, and the whistle blew—Kobe was called for a shooting foul.

“I didn’t even touch him, damn it!” Now it was Kobe’s turn to complain, genuinely aggrieved.

He’d been living off superstar calls his whole career; he wasn’t about to take this lying down.

“Shut up, Kobe. You sound just like my seven-year-old niece: ‘Mom, he took my toy again!’” He Xinghui replied before the referee could say a word, mimicking a child’s whiny voice in the second half of his taunt.

Not only the Clippers, but even some Lakers players had to stifle their laughter.

Kobe was so mad he was seething, and if he weren’t afraid of getting tossed, he’d have punched He Xinghui on the spot.

The referee stood by his call, and He Xinghui made the and-one.

Lakers’ possession. Now in a rage, Kobe was fully locked in.

With the ball, he saw only He Xinghui in his sights.

He ignored his teammates and paid no attention to any other Clippers.

He backed down, muscled his way to his sweet spot in the mid-range, spun, shot—nothing but net. The form, flawless.

24–21, Kobe up by three.

“You bastard, tonight I’m going to humiliate you.”

Now in full-on Mamba mode, Kobe couldn’t help but curse.

“I won’t lose to a guy who spits nothing but garbage,” He Xinghui shot back.

He wasn’t just talking; his actions matched his words.

Using his superb off-ball movement, he slipped off screens from Livingston and Cassell, found himself wide open, and fired without hesitation.

Swish.

24–24, tied again.

Back the other way, Kobe took a jumper. This time, He Xinghui delivered a hard slap to his arm.

Kobe drained both free throws. 26–24.

Clippers ball. Livingston was called for an illegal screen blocking Kobe’s pursuit.

Lakers’ turn. Kobe went solo again, but missed this time.

Kaman grabbed the rebound and hurled a long pass. He Xinghui caught it and pushed up court with speed, Odom sprinting after him.

But as He Xinghui reached the three-point line, he stopped on a dime and launched a shot.

Odom was already under the rim, chasing nothing but air.

The shot fell. 26–27, He Xinghui took the lead.

“The way you chase might as well be a blind boar—just charging wildly,” He Xinghui didn’t spare the rest of the Lakers either. Any chance to mock an opponent, he took it.

While he was trash-talking Odom, Kobe had already streaked down the court, taking it to the rim. Against Brand’s defense, Kobe finished a tough layup.

28–27.

Back the other way, He Xinghui and his teammates ran a complex play, breaking past Odom and hitting a layup off the glass.

After so many jumpers off screens, suddenly driving caught the defense off guard, and it worked beautifully.

28–29, He Xinghui pulls ahead again.

“Wow, these two are incredible,” Smith couldn’t help but marvel.

During this stretch, He Xinghui and Kobe were going head-to-head, trading buckets at a blistering pace and with remarkable efficiency.

With the second quarter not even over, both were closing in on thirty points.

If they kept this up in the second half, both men could break sixty.

If that happened, this game would instantly become a classic.

Years later, the first shootout between two superstars of the league would be a memory worth cherishing.