Li Fei had already won on the battlefield of business.
And on the battlefield of basketball, the slaughter had only just begun.
Li Fei dribbled the ball up the court. As a 2.24-meter giant, his dribbling stance was incredibly low, yet he moved as freely as a guard.
Reaching the frontcourt, he signaled for everyone to spread out.
He was going to answer Iverson.
Theo Ratliff nervously spread his arms, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto the hardwood.
One step inside the three-point line, Li Fei suddenly rose for a pull-up jumper.
At that height, the defender could only watch helplessly.
"Swish!"
The ball went cleanly through the net, sending up a spray of white waves.
Li Fei landed and glanced toward Monica Bellucci at courtside. Monica Bellucci returned his look with an elegant smile.
"Allen, you said you were the best."
As he retreated on defense, Li Fei spoke calmly to Iverson.
"But I haven't felt it yet."
Iverson took the ball, his speed climbing to the limit once more.
He knew tonight was destined to be a sleepless one.
The lights of Madison Square Garden still shone brilliantly, while the clash between these two superstars had only just lifted the curtain.
In the stands, New York fans roared madly. They knew that as long as the giant wearing number 91 was on the court, this city was an impregnable fortress.
Meanwhile, the Philadelphia supporters who had traveled so far saw an unyielding spirit in Iverson every time he fell and got back up.
This was basketball. This was the NBA.
Money, fame, and commercial empires all faded into the background at this moment.
All that remained was that orange ball and two souls that would never surrender.
On defense, Li Fei once again stuffed Tyrone