Chapter Forty: The Battle Axe Slam

Zhuang Bi cursed Yun Longkong as an idiot, and Yun Longkong, aware of Zhuang Bi’s notorious reputation, dared not retort. The two teams almost came to blows, but Feng Yisheng intervened, sending a thread of spiritual energy that healed Yun Longkong’s injuries by more than half. Still, the fighting ability of the four players had dropped significantly, and with the entire second-year basketball team now playing tight man-to-man defense, the intensity was too much for them to handle.

By the end of the second quarter, the score was 70 to 36. Feng Yisheng alone had scored 32 points, while the other 2 points came from Luo Shan, who managed a tough layup against three second-year team members, each over six feet two. The basketball team, even with their full offensive efforts, managed only twenty points this quarter, though it was much better than the first. Up in the stands, Yang Yong grew uneasy; he hadn’t expected that, after the second quarter, Feng Yisheng’s teammates would perform so poorly, save for Feng himself.

Were it not for Feng Yisheng controlling the ball most of the time, the basketball team would have intercepted it long ago. As the second quarter ended, Yang Yong’s eyes flickered with a strange light at Feng Yisheng’s performance.

The offense on Feng Yisheng’s side relied entirely on him, while the basketball team’s shots were often forced under Feng’s defense, leading to a low success rate. By the end of the second quarter, Feng Yisheng’s stats had soared to sixty-two points, nine rebounds, four assists, and sixteen steals.

Yang Yong mused that if Feng Yisheng could keep up this stamina and finish the next two quarters, quadruple-doubles would not be out of reach. Assists, though, were a challenge, since even when Feng fed the ball to his teammates, their offensive skills were sorely lacking.

On the basketball team, not a single player had reached double digits in scoring; the highest was small forward Zhao Xiaoming with just eight points.

Yang Yong’s brows knit slightly as he considered the situation, but soon he relaxed. He pulled out his latest 5G phone and dialed a number. When the call connected, he said, “Do me a favor. I want the complete file on that student Feng Yisheng from Class Six, second year.” After the person on the other end agreed, Yang Yong hung up and, energized, turned his attention to the third quarter. His focus had shifted from Zhuang Bi to Feng Yisheng.

Of course, Yang Yong was eager to keep watching; two quarters remained. He believed that the next act wouldn’t be Feng Yisheng’s showcase, convinced that Feng’s stamina must be running out.

Among the spectators courtside, the most miserable was Guan Zhidao. After the second quarter, he sensed trouble—if this continued, next month’s League of Legends tournament would require him to throw the game. But soon, Guan Zhidao sneered inwardly; even if he threw the match, Zhou Chuyi’s team wouldn’t win.

As the third quarter was about to begin, Feng Yisheng’s team’s weakness became apparent: each player was gasping for breath—except for Feng himself. With no other choice, Feng Yisheng discreetly infused a strand of spiritual energy into the backs of his teammates’ heads. Soon, though still exhausted, their bodies felt no fatigue, and no one noticed anything amiss.

The third quarter began, and Feng Yisheng’s team did not display the weariness Yang Yong had expected; each player was full of energy. Yang Yong attributed this to Feng recruiting four athletes with robust stamina, unaware that Feng had simply chosen random people.

Now, Feng Yisheng had drawn the full attention of the second-year basketball team. On the perimeter, the team sent two defenders to double-team him, creating what seemed an impenetrable defense. But Feng Yisheng drove straight in, unfazed by two defenders—in fact, with his enhanced physique, even ten adults couldn’t stop him.

On this play, after breaking into the paint, Feng Yisheng jumped with the ball, propelled by momentum. No, to be precise—he flew! The basketball team’s only inside defender, center Zhao Hui, also jumped up. Everyone could see his intent: he wanted to block Feng Yisheng’s shot.

Yang Yong, watching from the sidelines, thought to himself that Feng’s shot would surely be blocked; the height difference was too great—Zhao Hui stood a full fifteen centimeters taller, and his vertical leap seemed in a league of its own. Yet, what happened next proved Yang Yong utterly wrong.

As Zhao Hui soared through the air, reaching to swat the ball, just when everyone believed Zhao Ming would intercept it, Feng Yisheng, with a force and speed only Zhao Ming could feel, slammed the ball fiercely into the hoop.

Under Feng Yisheng’s overwhelming impact—and still airborne—Zhao Ming lost his balance and crashed to the court. The ball fell, bouncing off the floor, the net rippling.

Stunned—absolute astonishment filled the arena! A dunk over an opponent, topped by a tomahawk slam.

A move usually seen only in highlight reels was broadcast live.

Seventy-two to thirty-six.

Watching from the distant stands, Li Yong clenched his fists as his eyes flashed strangely, then burned with fervor. This was the player he’d been searching for!

On the court, a basketball team member walked over to Zhao Ming, still lying on the floor, and offered his right hand. Zhao Ming glanced up, reached out, and was pulled to his feet. After Feng Yisheng’s dunk, the ball remained on the floor, as if mocking the second-year team.

Instead, it lit a spark of fighting spirit within them, but after several exchanges in the third quarter, the gap only widened.

The whistle blew; the third quarter ended.

Ninety-eight to sixty-one.

This quarter, the basketball team managed twenty-five points, but compared to Feng Yisheng’s side, it was inexpressible—the score gap now firmly held above thirty points.

Yet Feng Yisheng’s four teammates remained sluggish; after all, the spiritual energy Feng had given them was not much. He dared not infuse too much at once, needing a gradual adjustment; too much would do more harm than good.

By now, Feng Yisheng had scored eighty-five points, grabbed twelve rebounds, logged seven assists, and twenty steals.

Such explosive statistics, with the crowd mostly students, had left nearly everyone completely awed by Feng Yisheng. Numbers like these were beyond even NBA stars—though, of course, the competition was on a different level.