Moon held the latest examination report in his hand as he looked at Link before him.
Even now, he still regretted it—regretted giving Link such an idea.
As a doctor, his duty should have been to help athletes recover and ease their pain.
But Moon knew that he was now pushing Link straight into hell.
"The results are good. Your injury hasn't worsened. From what we can see now, it's unlikely to get worse any further—unless Draymond Green elbows you in the exact same spot again." Moon laid out the report's findings in full to Link and Joerger.
"So that means... I can play today?" Link's eyes lit up. He had waited long enough for this news.
Moon nodded reluctantly, then added, "But like I said before, whether you can play depends on your tolerance for pain. How is it? Has the pain eased at all today?"
"It's much better than yesterday. It still hurts like hell, of course, but at least I can move now." As Link spoke, he raised his arm.
"You know full well how much pain you'll endure on the court if you really play. Are you sure you want to do this, Link?" More than anyone, Moon knew Link's condition was nowhere near as easy as the smile on his face suggested.
"I know what I'm choosing, Moon. Compared to losing to the Warriors—losing to Green—I'd rather endure this pain."
Moon shook his head. Link was absolutely the most stubborn player he had ever seen. Did every great superstar have at least a touch of obsession in them?
"Even so, I still advise you not to play too many minutes. Once the injury gradually improves, you can gradually increase your playing time. After all, you still have a Finals to play, Link."
The Finals. Moon