The battle raged through the half, still deadlocked!
The fans were on their feet, roaring for more.
In the starter shoot-out… the Thunder held a slight edge; had Curry one more year of growth and Su Yan a deeper arsenal,
the new york twin stars might have been even deadlier.
Yet… at the break, the Knicks trailed by 8.
Halftime.
Curry frowned. "OKC's roster is stacked—starters aside, their bench brings James Harden and Serge Ibaka, one for offense, one for defense and rim protection.
Scary.
We're losing the bench war."
"Exactly."
Coach D'Antoni didn't argue. "Eight points—we can live with that.
Second half.
We tighten the screws. Every stop turns into offense; cut the thunders big three's firepower and
our win odds jump.
That's the key!"
He turned to Su Yan. "You're on Durant. Only you can bother him."
"Got it."
Su Yan nodded.
A year ago, facing a third-year Scoring Champion Durant, he'd have been toast.
Now he carried Spring Man Lv1 and Steel Tendons and Iron Bones Lv1.
Leap and strength, both boosted.
He figured it worth a shot.
Moments later…
The second half tipped!
Sides switched.
Knicks ball.
Curry pushed, hand-off to Su Yan atop the arc, then drifted to the corner.
Thud.
Durant pressed up.
First real duel of the night.
New York knew: mute Durant, win the game.
OKC knew: lock Su Yan, roll to victory.
Hmph!"
Durant greeted him with a snarl, face dark and venomous, as if Su Yan had stolen his bride.
Su Yan: ??
Come on, KD—Shaking hands and chatting with Salena doesn't warrant a meltdown.
Widen the lens, buddy.
Plus, she's not even your girlfriend; that possessiveness is next-level delusion.
Chill.
"Su Yan, Salena's mine—stay away!"
Durant warned.
What the hell did I do? She came to me, OK?!
Su Yan meant to ignore him, but youthful Durant pouting over love was comedy gold.
He grinned. "Why? You haven't closed the deal—everyone's still in play, right?
Mm.
Soft hands, I'd like another—"
"Aaaargh!"
Durant snapped, lunging like a maniac, ready to tear Su Yan apart.
Tweet! Tweet!
The whistle blew.
Defensive foul on Durant.
Fine.
Durant cooled down, yet his eyes still promised murder.
Su Yan shook his head. Say what you will—Durant's love for Salena runs deep.
No wonder he'd drink her bathwater.
A little poke,
and Su Yan refocused.
Against Durant's ferocious D, Su Yan sped up, banged bodies, and knocked Durant back.
Then—
step-back, lift-off, quick release!
The triple combo left Durant—long as he was—no chance to contest.
The ball sailed over his fingertips.
Step-back bent like a bow, arrow piercing the sky—
Swish!
Bottom.
Su Yan… drilled a cold-blooded triple right over Kevin Durant!!
One word: slick!
Switch ends.
Fuming, Durant brought it up himself; Su Yan met him chest-to-chest.
David Lee lacked speed.
Curry lacked height.
Wilson Chandler lacked both; hustle only went so far against Durant's gifts.
He couldn't slow him either.
Only Su Yan could match strength and bounce.
Su Yan bodied up; Durant tried to blow by—no dice.
Reset.
Plan B!
Crossover!
Huge, fast, long—pure deception.
Top-tier scorer, no doubt.
Su Yan, locked in, still lost half a step.
Whoosh!
A second between-the-legs rocked Su Yan; Durant darted right, pull-up.
Splash—
high-arching fade.
Signature shot.
Half-step plus wingspan meant zero contest.
Su Yan flew anyway,
unleashing every inch of Spring Man Lv1—still inches short.
Swish!
Durant's mid-range.
Close!"
D'Antoni squinted. "Su Yan bit; without that half-step, maybe we get the block."
Su Yan thought so too.
Next trip he crowded Durant, forcing constant crossovers.
Durant couldn't shed him—only a sliver of airspace.
What to do?
Screech—
another pull-up fade, using that sliver, over Su Yan.
Third-year Durant: 6-11 height, 7-5 wingspan.
Su Yan: 6-7, 7-0.
Gap was real.
Though Su Yan's strength made the shot tough—borderline blind—
still…
Durant's talent was absurd.
Su Yan's max leap missed by a fingertip.
And
the mid-range is Durant's kill shot.
Cash.
Ball left hand—two.
Swish!
Again.
Back-to-back buckets on Su Yan; the arena gasped, Durant beamed.
He glanced at Salena, wrist flicked as if to say:
See, Salena—I'm the alpha; love me.
Salena stayed icy, unmoved, even annoyed.
Because… he'd scored on Su Yan—unforgivable.
Unfazed, Durant vowed to keep crushing Su Yan; sooner or later Salena would swoon.
At least, he believed it.
As for Su Yan…
He mused, 'Tiny margin, yet I'm the one Durant's roasting.','Can't stop him.','Unless… I jump higher.','Hmm?','Higher?!'
That thought
sparked something; he checked his balance: 1.284 million.
Su Yan smirked. "Spring Man Lv2 costs a million—exactly enough.
After last game I dithered—
save or spend?
No need now."
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