LOGO Three-Pointer!

Wang Yi thought for a moment, then suddenly remembered the God-tier Three-Point Experience Card he'd obtained earlier.

Because time had been short, he hadn't had a chance to study the God-tier Three-Point Experience Card after getting it.

He hadn't used the Three-Point Experience Card for those three shots earlier, either.

Those had been the result of his usual hard work, plus a little luck.

Now he was injured, and his opponents would definitely guard him closely against three-pointers.

He might as well try out the Three-Point Experience Card.

With that thought, he tried saying something in his mind:

"Use the God-tier Three-Point Experience Card."

The cold, mechanical voice sounded in his mind once more:

[Three-Point Experience Card activated. Three-point Percentage will reach 80% for five minutes.]

Wang Yi's heart gave a sudden leap.

He clenched his right fist tightly!

The God-tier Three-Point Experience Card had come at just the right time!

Just then, the team's leader, James, came over and took Wang Yi's hand.

He slapped Wang Yi's palm hard, then playfully touched his forehead.

Then he pretended to take Wang Yi's temperature with an electronic thermometer, holding it over his palm. "Your hand's so hot. Don't tell me you've got a fever?"

His antics made the players nearby, who had been feeling down, burst out laughing.

James patted Wang Yi on the shoulder again:

"Hey, brother, I liked that three-pointer of yours. But I'm looking forward to seeing more."

Wang Yi nodded, held his head high, and said confidently:

"You will."

Meanwhile, in Tencent's live stream.

The two commentators were reviewing the game near its end.

"Let's take a look at the Lakers Players' scores. James has 23 points, Thick Eyebrows has 28... Wang Yi has 9..."

The commentator paused slightly.

"Our Chinese player, Wang Yi, already has 9 points?"

The other commentator said, "He just made two... or maybe three three-pointers."

"Let me check... That's right, three three-pointers. Three for three, not bad. Nine points—that's the most Wang Yi has scored in a single game since entering the NBA."

"Let's see if he takes any more threes. But his wrist is injured, and that last shot didn't look too smooth. Maybe... he won't shoot another three. After all, three-pointers put too much strain on the wrist."

As they spoke, play resumed.

The Warriors scored a two-pointer with a give-and-go play.

The lead grew to 28 points again.

The Lakers came back on offense.

The Warriors player with the Afro stuck close to Wang Yi.

The coach had told him to guard this Oriental guy, and he was going to guard him until he cried.

He kept muttering and trash-talking, too. "Oriental, with that scrawny little body of yours, can you even shoot another three? Give it a rest. Don't worry, I'll stick to you like glue and stay on you until you're bawling like a woman."

Wang Yi ignored his trash talk.

He'd always preferred to let his play do the talking.

Following the coach's play call, he came off a screen and caught the ball at the top of the key once again.

The Afro was already chasing after him.

Wang Yi had only a split second to shoot.

Without the slightest hesitation.

He stopped!

Jumped!

Raised his arm!

Flicked his wrist!

Released!

One smooth motion!

The whole shot flowed like silk!

Though the pain in his wrist had grown worse,

his shooting form on that shot hadn't changed in the slightest.

Whoosh—

The ball sailed past the fingertips of the Afro's outstretched hand.

Beneath the spotlights, it traced an orange arc through the air.

Swish!

The net rippled as the ball dropped cleanly through the center of the hoop.

Wang Yi lowered his right hand and glanced at the Afro.

He clenched his fist tightly.

A mysterious smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

With the boost from the God-tier Three-Point Experience Card, that shot had felt incredible.

The instant the ball left his hand, he'd known it was going in!

Is this what it feels like to be a three-point ace?

Wang Yi couldn't help glancing at Curry on the Warriors' bench.

Curry, too, was looking at Wang Yi, seemingly by chance.

Seeing that, the Afro followed Wang Yi and kept running his mouth:

"Your opponent is me! Don't get it twisted. I'm going to guard you until you question your whole life. I'll guard you until you're crying and crawling back to your country."

Wang Yi didn't even look back. For once, he shot back:

"I'll shoot until you shut up."

That only got the Afro more riled up.

He chased after Wang Yi, hurling trash talk at him nonstop.

After saying that one sentence, Wang Yi didn't say another word.

He might as well have been listening to a few dogs barking.

Thanks to Wang Yi's four three-pointers, the lead had now shrunk to 25 points.

From 35 points to 25—it seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.

On the sidelines, the Lakers players had all gotten to their feet.

Even if they lost tonight, Wang Yi's four three-pointers in just a minute and a half were impressive enough.

The next possession.

The Warriors missed their shot.

When the Lakers went on offense, Wang Yi called for the ball as soon as he crossed half court.

His play had already won over the Lakers' point guard, and the ball naturally found its way into his hands.

The Warriors player with the Afro stuck close to him.

Wang Yi used a screen from a teammate and dribbled once.

The Afro got caught on the screen, opening up a little space.

Wang Yi was still two meters behind the three-point line.

If he kept dribbling, the Afro would catch up in no time.

He had no time to think.

He stopped!

Raised the ball!

Flicked his wrist!

Released!

Swish!

Three-pointer!

Lead: 22 points!

The crowd erupted.

A third of the spectators immediately cheered.

There were less than three minutes left, and the lead was still over twenty points. There was no chance they'd come back.

But this Oriental man had hit five three-pointers in a row, and that was enough to fire them up again.

"This guy's incredible!"

"He's the Lakers' Curry!"

"How come I've never seen him before? What's his name?"

"He's a ten-day contract player for the Lakers, but I don't know his name."

As soon as the shot went in, Wang Yi felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him.

His confidence swelled dramatically.

At that moment, the hoop seemed as vast as the ocean.

No matter how he shot, the ball would obediently drop through the net.

On the Warriors' bench, Curry's eyes flickered.

As a Three-Point Shooter of historic caliber, he'd pioneered the small-ball era.

Now, watching someone else sink five three-pointers in a row had fired up his competitive spirit, too.

He wanted to face this man on the court and see who came out on top.

But when he looked at the head coach, the coach gave a subtle shake of his head.

They had the game in the bag. There was no need to put Curry back in.

On the next possession.

The Warriors missed another three, and it was the Lakers' turn to attack.

After crossing half court, Wang Yi called for the ball again.

This time, the Afro had learned his lesson. Before Wang Yi could even catch the ball, he blocked his path two meters behind the three-point line.

He wasn't giving Wang Yi any chance to shoot.

Wang Yi dribbled and glanced at his right hand.

Seeing that Wang Yi seemed hesitant, the Afro perked right up.

He clapped his hands noisily and taunted Wang Yi with exaggerated gestures:

"Come on, if you've got the guts, make another one! I'll bet you a hundred dollars you miss this shot."

Trash talk like this was a psychological tactic.

Shooting, especially long-range three-pointers, put a player's mental strength to the test.

Even the slightest shift in mindset could throw off a player's form.

And with his form off, he'd never make the shot.

Wang Yi's fighting spirit flared at the taunt.

He gritted his teeth and kept dribbling.

But instead of moving forward, he backed up three steps with the ball.

His foot landed right on the center-court line.

When the Afro saw that, he flashed a big, toothy grin and laughed:

"The center circle? A LOGO three-pointer? You think you're Stephen Curry? Hahahaha... Oriental, you must still be dreaming."

The white commentator at the arena was taken aback, too:

"Oh, my God. What is this Oriental guy trying to do?"

The other commentator joked, "A LOGO three-pointer?"

"Chinese players can shoot LOGO threes now?"

"He's hit five threes in a row and gotten cocky. Now he thinks he's Curry, huh?"

There was a hint of mockery in the two commentators' words.

But before they'd finished speaking,

Wang Yi pushed the ball up and released his shot.

From the center circle, he had to flick his wrist with much greater force.

Still, the shot felt incredible.

This one was going in!

The ball was still in the air after he released it.

But he'd already turned around.

With his back to the basket, he raised his right hand high and held up three fingers.

He made the three-point gesture.

The ball traced an even longer arc through the air.

One second after Wang Yi made the three-point gesture,

the ball slammed into the hoop like a cannonball!

Bang!

A LOGO three-pointer!!!