Chapter 76: Forcing Out the Strongest Kobe

Kobe wasn’t angry because He Xinghui talked trash to him; he was furious at He Xinghui’s shamelessness. He Xinghui was clearly playing as recklessly as Kobe, yet he acted completely oblivious and had the nerve to call Kobe a cancer to his team.

Seriously, did he have any sense of shame?

Very soon, Kobe realized that the man in front of him truly knew no shame at all.

On the next possession, He Xinghui also took an unreasonable shot—and missed badly. Yet even after missing, not a trace of embarrassment appeared on his face.

What made Kobe even more frustrated was that he couldn’t just lash out at Dunleavy about it, either.

With no other outlet, Kobe could only vent his irritation on the court. He called for the ball again, isolated his man, and missed another shot.

Seeing this, He Xinghui covered half his face, shook his head with a laugh. This time, he didn’t even bother with another trash talk, but his gestures and smile were even more infuriating.

Looking as if he pitied Kobe for his misfortune and was disappointed at his lack of improvement, He Xinghui truly grated on Kobe’s nerves. After all, Kobe was an elite superstar in the league, a scoring champion, a three-time consecutive champion... It was hardly He Xinghui’s place, as a mere rookie, to look at him with such regret.

On the Clippers’ next attack, a slightly unhinged Kobe outright slapped He Xinghui across the face, clearly targeting him and not the ball.

The satisfaction Kobe felt was as cool and refreshing as a popsicle on a hot day.

He Xinghui, however, seemed to enjoy it too, rolling on the floor clutching his face as if he wouldn’t get up for less than seventy or eighty thousand dollars.

Mobley immediately stepped up to Kobe, loudly demanding an explanation and berating him to his face.

The referee’s whistle blew, separating Mobley and Kobe before things could escalate further. Then, after checking the replay, the officials had no choice but to call a flagrant foul—the act was too blatant, and the crowd, filled with Kobe’s fans, erupted in boos. The referees couldn’t cover for Kobe this time.

Kobe was assessed a flagrant one. The Clippers were awarded two free throws and possession.

He Xinghui made both free throws. Then, receiving a pass from Cassell, he launched a shot from way beyond the arc.

The ball went in. Excited, He Xinghui rushed over to Charlize Theron, held up five fingers, and laughed, “Did you see that? I scored five points in a single possession—can Kobe do that?”

Taken alone, such a boast might not have been especially funny, but at that moment, He Xinghui’s face still bore five bright red fingerprints. To be beaten so badly yet laugh so cheerfully was both comical and incongruous.

Charlize Theron couldn’t help herself—she covered her face, pretending not to know this clown of a man.

He Xinghui didn’t get to show off for long. The infuriated Kobe shifted into “Mamba Mode,” launching threes from outside the arc. He Xinghui jumped to contest, but ended up hitting Kobe’s arm.

To his chagrin, Kobe still sank the shot—a four-point play.

Damn it, He Xinghui thought, if I’d known, I would have fouled him harder. If it’s going to be a foul anyway, might as well make it count.

Kobe pumped his fist and shouted something in a dialect He Xinghui couldn’t understand. Judging by his face, it was probably the equivalent of “screw you,” “damn you,” or some other curse.

Kobe made the free throw. The score was now 35-40; Kobe was still down by five.

“Scoring four points in a single possession? Not bad, not bad, just a bit behind me,” He Xinghui applauded from the sideline.

The Clippers attacked. He Xinghui got the ball and fired away.

On TNT, Barkley was shouting, “No, no, no—nice!”

“Charles, you’re going to get beaten up by Kobe fans if you keep this up,” Smith joked.

Since He Xinghui took the lead, Barkley had been flustered, praying aloud that He Xinghui would miss.

Rational fans understood that such prayers had no effect, but not all fans were rational. Some truly believed in these superstitions. If a rabid Kobe fan blamed Barkley, he’d be out of luck—at best, his windows would get smashed; at worst, he himself might be.

“No, I think Kobe fans should thank me. If it weren’t for my bet with Theron, he wouldn’t have fought so hard. I get it now—he’s just out to get me,” Barkley said mournfully.

“Charles, as I recall, you were the one who insisted on betting with Theron,” Smith replied.

Back on the court, the Lakers attacked. Kobe hit a two-pointer.

37-40.

Thinking Kobe would give up was wishful thinking. Moreover, He Xinghui’s energy was draining fast, while Kobe remained full of vigor.

He Xinghui tried to move as before, but Kobe stuck to him like glue. With no good shot, He Xinghui forced one—and bricked.

“Not bad, not bad. Your stamina is just like the donkey I keep at home,” He Xinghui mocked.

Kobe’s expression remained unchanged, seemingly unaffected.

At that moment, Kobe seemed to have returned to the championship season of 2000, when Shaq fouled out and only Kobe’s broad shoulders were left on the court. His desire for victory was so intense it unleashed unparalleled strength—he dragged the game into overtime and won.

Now, Kobe’s mind was singularly focused on winning. Even if a beautiful woman were to streak across the court, he’d ignore her. Trash talk from He Xinghui didn’t even register; even if someone spat in his face, he could restrain himself.

He wanted nothing but victory.

On the next possession, Kobe drove past He Xinghui and finished with a thunderous dunk.

The crowd erupted. Kobe’s fans roared, chanting “MVP!”

On the Clippers’ attack, He Xinghui caught the look of focused determination in Kobe’s eyes and suddenly understood: Damn, I actually forced Kobe into his peak state.

He Xinghui was a little upset. He knew that trash talk would be useless now—provoking the opponent had lost its effect. To beat Kobe, he would have to rely on real skill (and some shady means).

On TNT, just as Barkley finished saying He Xinghui was out of energy, He Xinghui “drank” a stamina potion. Suddenly, he sped up, changed direction to shake off Kobe, and threw down a powerful dunk under the basket.

The move was far flashier than any fadeaway jumper, and even more spectacular than Kobe’s earlier dunk.

This time, it was the turn of He Xinghui’s fans to gloat.

“Big Bro, Big Bro, MVP, MVP!” one of his fans shouted so enthusiastically that he nearly spat in the face of the person next to him.

Not that he could be blamed: right after Kobe’s dunk, the other guy had been screaming “Kobe MVP” in his ear.

But this Kobe fan was hot-tempered. After being spit on, he threw a punch without a word.

The He Xinghui fan, furious, retaliated in kind. Things quickly spiraled into a brawl.

The commotion was so great, the game had to be stopped.