The roar of the crowd hadn't yet subsided, but the tension of the final round was already hitting hard.
Sitting on the bench, Link wiped the sweat from his face with a towel.
Advancing with a thrilling 23 points had drained a lot of his energy.
He closed his eyes, quickly adjusting his breathing.
Steve Nash was up first.
The two-time MVP kept his elegant rhythm, but perhaps due to fatigue or the pressure of the finals, his touch was clearly off compared to the preliminary round. He finished with just 18 points.
Nash shook his head as he walked off the court. High-fiving Link, he gave a helpless smile. "It's all you, kid."
Link was up second.
The spotlight hit him again, and fans in the arena erupted with enthusiastic cheers.
Back in the apartment, Andrew was yelling at the TV, "Steady! Just like before!"
Link walked to the right corner and closed his eyes again.
The effects of [Focused Shooter Lv. 2] were on cooldown. This time, he had to rely solely on himself.
The whistle blew.
Without the skill boost, Link's shooting touch dropped noticeably.
After the first four racks, he had only tallied 11 points.
Although he managed another strong showing on the final money-ball rack, hitting 4 out of 5, his total score was just 19—barely edging out Nash.
A collective sigh of regret rippled through the arena.
Link bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.
19 points. It was enough to beat Nash, but clearly not enough to secure the title.
As he walked off the court, Nash came over and patted him on the back.
Now, all the pressure was on Ray Allen.
The super-sniper remained as expressionless as ever.
His 26 points in the prelims had already showcased his terrifying form.
In the finals, he only needed more than 20 points to take the crown!
And in the finals, Ray Allen showed exactly why he was one of the greatest shooters of the era.
From the first rack, his rhythm was solid as a rock.
Every catch, knee bend, jump, and wrist flick was like the movement of a precision instrument.
The arc of the basketball was almost identical every single time.
By the end of the third rack, Ray Allen already had 16 points!
With every shot he sank, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause.
There was plenty of time left, and the championship was within reach.
Fourth rack, left wing, 45-degree angle.
Ray Allen remained unhurried. He hit 3 regular balls out of the first 4 shots, bringing his score to 19.
When the fifth money ball swished through the net, the scoreboard jumped to 21.
The contest was over. The suspense was gone.
He even relaxed his rhythm on the final money-ball rack, hitting 2 out of 5, locking his final score at 25 points.
Clean, decisive, and without a shadow of a doubt, he claimed the 2006 All-Star Three-Point Contest championship!
The entire arena stood up, delivering a thunderous ovation for the shooting master.
Ray Allen hoisted the trophy, finally allowing a faint smile to show on his face.
Standing on the sideline, Link applauded sincerely.
He accepted the defeat wholeheartedly.
Ray Allen truly lived up to his reputation. Before Curry burst onto the scene, he was widely considered the greatest shooter in NBA history.
Ray Allen walked over and proactively shook hands with Link and Nash.
"Congratulations, Ray. Your performance tonight was incredible," Link congratulated him earnestly.
Ray Allen nodded slightly in thanks.
---
After the awards ceremony, Link was surrounded by the media in the mixed zone again.
"Link, making the finals in your first Three-Point Contest and finishing second—how does it feel?"
"A little regretful, but mostly rewarding," Link replied to the camera, his tone calm.
"Competing alongside great shooters like Ray, Steve, and Dirk is a precious experience. Ray's performance tonight was masterful. I saw the gap between us, and it clarified the direction I need to work towards."
"What does this All-Star trip mean to you?"
"It's a new starting point," Link said, his gaze firm. "When I get back, I'll keep training and get stronger."
Interview over, Link headed to the locker room and ran into Kobe in the hallway.
"19 points. Not embarrassing," Kobe said concisely. "But you can do better."
"I know," Link nodded.
"Remember this feeling," Kobe looked at him. "Respect the opponents who are better than you, and then, find a way to surpass them!"
---
Sunday. The Toyota Center reached its climax.
The All-Star Game!
The stars of the East and West gathered under one roof, dazzling and bright.
Link, now a spectator, sat in a prime courtside seat to experience this basketball feast up close.
All-Star games are often purely for show until the fourth quarter when things get real.
The East was led by LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Allen Iverson, and others.
The West featured superstars like Kobe, Yao Ming, Tim Duncan, and Tracy McGrady.
Young LeBron was undoubtedly the center of attention.
He kept igniting the atmosphere with flashy dunks, and his alley-oop connections with Wade drew constant gasps.
For the West, it was the Kobe and T-Mac show.
The two super-scorers took turns lighting it up, continuously scoring with picturesque jump shots.
The fourth quarter arrived quickly, and everyone switched into killer mode.
The duel between Kobe and LeBron became the main theme of the final moments.
Kobe with his signature fadeaway, LeBron with his tank-like drives—two superstars from different eras scoring in their own unique ways.
In the clutch, LeBron drove with the ball.
Drawing the double team, he kicked it out to Allen Iverson on the perimeter.
"The Answer" didn't hesitate—catch, shoot, splash! Three-pointer!
The East led by 4 with very little time left!
The West's final push fell short, and the East defeated the West 122-119.
LeBron James, with a comprehensive stat line of 29 points, 8 rebounds, and 9 assists, was named the All-Star Game MVP.
Kobe scored 34 points, and T-Mac had 37.
Shaq put up a double-double, but Duncan didn't do much for the West.
The Spurs' "Big Fundamental" never had much interest in these kinds of showcases.
---
All-Star Weekend came to a close.
Before leaving Houston, Link ran into LeBron again in the hotel lobby.
"Prophet, second place in the Three-Point Contest. Not bad," LeBron laughed. "Come back next time, and maybe the trophy will be yours."
"Congratulations, LeBron. The AMVP was well-deserved," Link said.
LeBron shrugged. "It's just an exhibition. The real battle is in the playoffs."
Half-joking, half-serious, he added, "My previous invitation still stands. Cleveland needs shooters."
Link smiled, not taking the bait, simply saying, "See you next time."
"See you." LeBron waved, carrying his trophy toward the waiting team bus.
On the flight back to Los Angeles, Link leaned against the window, watching the night view of Houston shrink below him.
This All-Star trip, though short, had been incredibly exciting.
He had stood on a stage he once could only look up to, competing alongside legends.
It was something he wouldn't have dared to dream of in his past life.
But at the same time, it showed him the massive gap between himself and the star players.
Link closed his eyes, sinking his consciousness into the system panel.
Next up was a new round of [Hell Training]!