pertwk Chapter 37 The Sense of Smell of Beasts
Chapter 37 The Sense of Smell of Beasts
2009年1月4日，清晨6:00。
Talitown Knicks training facility, New York.
"Huff... huff... huff..."
Randolph braced himself against his knees with both hands, his face, which usually wore a carefree smile, now showing signs of exhaustion.
"Boss...we've been running for almost two hours..." Randolph protested. "Didn't we win yesterday? And you even hit the game-winning shot...that damn Granger was crying because of your shot...why do we need to do extra practice?"
"You won?"
Li Xiangbei stood in the center circle, holding a stopwatch in his hand. He was wearing a black training vest that was already soaked with sweat.
"We won because I scored 52 points. Because I made that damn shot at the end. Not because your defense was so good."
Li Xiangbei slowly walked up to Randolph, looking at the power forward who was even bigger than himself.
"If that game-winning shot hadn't gone in yesterday, you guys would be swimming in the media's spittle right now. The New York media would tear you to shreds and say you're a bunch of spineless cowards who only get hard in nightclubs."
"We're playing the Houston Rockets tomorrow night."
Li Xiangbei pointed to the area under the basket, the restricted area that represents dominance in the paint.
"Yao Ming is waiting for you in the paint. He's a 2.26-meter giant. If you're still a lump of mud like yesterday, unable to even take a step..."
"I'll leave Yao Ming unguarded. Let him dunk on you ten times! Let him score 40 points against you!"
Randolph shrank back. Defend Yao Ming? That Eastern giant with exquisite touch and terrifying height? Against Yao Ming, his pride and joy—his weight and strength—would be completely useless.
"No! Boss! I'll run! I can still run! I love shuttle runs!" Randolph immediately straightened his back and dragged his heavy steps out again.
Nate Robinson and Wilson Chandler, who were standing nearby, exchanged a glance as they watched this scene.
The current Li Xiangbei is no longer the generous older brother who only distributed luxury watches in the locker room and treated everyone to lavish meals, but a true and unquestionable leader who controls the life and death of the team.
……
10:00 AM. Li Xiangbei Apartment.
After finishing his grueling morning training, Li Xiangbei had just returned home, taken a shower, and when his phone rang.
Looking at the name on the caller ID, Li Xiangbei smiled gently. It was one of the few moments in a foreign land when he could let his guard down.
"Hey, Brother Yao."
Yao Ming's signature deep voice, tinged with a Shanghai accent, came from the other end of the phone.
"Xiang Bei, congratulations. That game-winning shot last night was absolutely gorgeous, 52 points! You know what? Fans all over the country are going crazy. You're all over the headlines in Sports Weekly right now, and even my news has been pushed to the side page."
Yao Ming's voice was filled with genuine joy.
As a pioneer of Chinese basketball, he has great appreciation and care for this younger generation who also comes from the East.
"Just lucky, Brother Yao," Li Xiangbei said modestly.
"Luck is also a kind of skill. Being able to make those shots shows you have a big heart." Yao Ming smiled. "By the way, don't rush off after the game tomorrow night. I'll treat you to authentic Peking duck in Flushing. I know a place where the chef was hired from Quanjude, and the taste is really authentic."
"I will definitely eat roast duck. It's a must."
Li Xiangbei held the phone.
"But Yao, I won't hold back during the game. You know, my current persona is 'New York villain,' and if I behave myself on the court, the sponsors will dock my pay."
Yao Ming burst into laughter on the other end of the phone: "Haha! Come on! If you can score over me, then you've got guts. But..."
Yao Ming's tone became slightly more serious, carrying a hint of reminder.
"You need to watch out for Ron (Artest). He's been in a bad mood these past few days, constantly talking about locking you up in the locker room. You know, when that guy goes crazy, even I can't stop him. He really does hit you."
"Artest?" Li Xiangbei's eyes narrowed as the image of that person flashed through his mind. "Don't worry, Brother Yao, I'll take good 'care' of him for you."
……
3:00 PM. The Houston Rockets arrived in New York.
This Rockets team is at their peak. Although McGrady did not travel with the team due to injury, this only made the focus of the game more concentrated – a Chinese derby, and a clash between offense and defense.
Besides Yao Ming as their absolute core, they also possessed a defensive system that instilled fear throughout the league. This included Luis Scola's cunning footwork, Shane Battier's blindfold defense, and the defensive stalwart Artest, who had just joined the team seeking a championship.
Reporters swarmed around the hotel lobby in Manhattan.
Artest wore a sweatshirt with "Queens Bridge" printed on it, his hometown and one of New York's most chaotic neighborhoods. His face was full of defiance, and the gold chain around his neck swayed with his movements.
"Ron, Li Xiangbei just scored 52 points, he's on fire. And he said he's going to defend home court in New York, and turn this place into a nightmare for the visiting team. What do you think?"
Artest revealed a fierce expression.
"52 points?"
"That's because those softies in Indiana are too polite. Granger? His defense is like he's dancing a waltz."
He pointed at the camera, his eyes filled with a wild, aggressive glint—the murderous intent typical of street brawlers.
"Li Xiangbei? Just a small guy who can only shoot. I'll show him what real 'Queens defense' is like. That's not basketball, that's hand-to-hand combat. That's the skill we honed on the streets to survive."
"I'll smash all those so-called 'shots' of his. I hope he's tough enough not to cry and beg the referee like a girl."
Despite watching this heated interview, Li Xiangbei was not angry.
Instead, a meaningful smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
[System notification: High rage value opponent detected – Ron Artest.]
[Passive skill "Trash Talk King" is ready.]
[Skill Effect: When you successfully enrage your opponent (rage value > 80%), your defensive pressure will increase by 20%, and your opponent's hit rate will decrease by 15%. At the same time, your survivability will slightly increase.]
"Trying to smash me?"
Li Xiangbei turned off the TV, stretched his neck, and made a cracking sound.
He stood up, walked to the mirror, and straightened his collar. It was a new training uniform from Under Armour, featuring the skull logo with a gas mask.
"A villain versus a beast."
"This is the kind of drama that should be happening in New York."