NBA: Basketball Legend.

Chapter 22: Super Scoring Power! Iverson's Amazement!

Durant stood calmly at the free-throw line and knocked down both shots with ease.

Georgetown came right back, sticking to their game plan—pound it inside to Hibbert.

They knew where their advantage lay.

But Texas had adjusted. This time, they didn't leave Pittman to handle Hibbert solo. Damian James quickly collapsed down, double-teaming Hibbert the moment he caught the ball.

Under pressure, Hibbert dished it out to Vernon McLean.

Boom!

McLean took off and threw down a nasty folding dunk!

Don't sleep on Vernon McLean. He might not be a household name now, but in the NCAA, he wasn't just anyone.

He was a former McDonald's All-American and once crowned Mr. Basketball in Virginia—a certified threat on the offensive end.

Texas responded.

Durant called for the rock, going iso. Chen Yan came up for a fake handoff, then sprinted to the deep corner. That movement dragged a defender with him, giving KD the space he needed.

One quick dribble—rise and fire.

Swish!

Straight cash from the midrange.

"Kevin! Beautiful! Nice shot!!"

A loud, feminine voice rang out from the stands.

Chen Yan blinked in surprise.

Wait… Durant has a girl cheering for him now?

Turning to look, he spotted her.

Durant's mom was in the crowd tonight.

Well, that explains it…

Tonight, Durant was locked in. He came out aggressive, taking the offensive load on his shoulders early.

Last game, he deferred a lot of shots to support Chen Yan. But tonight? He was feelin' it, and Chen Yan was more than happy to feed him.

About four and a half minutes in, Chen Yan hit a smooth mid-range jumper.

Scoreboard showed: 13–12, Georgetown still up by one.

Next possession for Texas.

Chen Yan took the ball up top.

"I studied your whole game, bro," growled a deep voice in front of him. "You only go right. Tonight, I'm lockin' you up. You ain't doin' nothin'!"

Standing there was a mountain of a man—built like a gorilla.

It was Little Ewing.

Chen Yan looked up at his face and had to admit, Damn… Ewing's genes really did some work.

Chen Yan hadn't been too aggressive to start the game, which gave Little Ewing the confidence to start trash-talking.

Before the game, Ewing Jr. had been grinding tape. He found that Chen Yan drove right 70% of the time. So he came into the game feelin' smug.

Chen Yan didn't even blink.

Ball down—quick start.

Right-to-left crossover—clean!

Then he hit a nasty behind-the-back.

Two big moves, and Little Ewing was cooked.

By the time he reacted, Chen Yan was already at the free-throw line, rising up with nobody in sight.

Splash.

Right through the net.

At that moment, the [Hot Start] badge icon lit up on Chen Yan's virtual panel.

Keep knocking 'em down, and his shooting percentage was gonna keep climbing—up to a max boost of 20%.

Chen Yan walked past Little Ewing casually.

"I only go right? Then why can't you guard it?"

Boom. Mic drop.

Little Ewing's face turned red with frustration, but he had no comeback.

Georgetown came down again.

Jeff Green set a screen for point guard Jonathan Wallace, then slipped toward the rim.

Wallace ignored the roll and went for a high-arcing floater—clank!

Missed.

Green hustled, tipped the ball out, chased it to the corner, caught the pass, and pulled up midrange.

Bucket.

In that sequence, Jeff Green showed off his full skillset—setting solid screens, crashing boards, and knocking down jumpers.

These kinds of guys? Coaches love 'em. But they rarely become franchise guys.

Texas ball again.

Durant dribbled at the top of the arc, eyes scanning. Georgetown had started keying in on him hard.

But Chen Yan had been lurking—cutting from the baseline, stopping and starting twice in quick bursts.

That off-ball movement left Little Ewing trailing.

Bang—catch and shoot.

Another mid-range pull-up.

Money.

Score flipped: 16–16. Texas tie the game.

Chen Yan's mid-range rating had only gone from 77 to 80, but on the court, that bump made a real difference. His jumper was smoother—more dependable. He could feel it.

"Nice off-ball work. Chen's mid-range game is lookin' real clean tonight."

"Little Ewing got caught napping again. He's gotta tighten up if he wants to slow Chen down," Van Gundy and Mike Breen said in the commentary booth.

Georgetown inbounded, but the next play didn't go their way.

Jeff Green drove in for a layup, kissed it off the glass—but it rimmed out.

Chen Yan grabbed the rebound and fired a quick outlet to DJ Augustin.

Georgetown was well-prepared tonight. Their transition defense was tight, already back in position before Texas could launch a fast break.

So Texas set up their half-court offense.

DJ Augustin came off a screen, then hit Chen Yan with a no-look bullet pass just above the arc.

After Chen Yan received the ball, Ewing instantly closed in on him.

The kid had already knocked down two smooth mid-range shots. Ewing wasn't about to let him cook up another one without a fight.

But how many steps did it take for Chen Yan to blow past him?

One.

First step — shift gears.

Second step — speed burst.

Third step — blow by.

"Bang!"

No joke. Chen Yan only took one explosive step from the catch to breezing past his man. Just one.

Georgetown head coach John Thompson III was stunned on the sidelines. "You're defending that tight against a speed demon… and you didn't expect this?"

Even Ewing looked rattled—he was frozen stiff like a statue, like some middle-aged dude who wandered into a pro pickup game.

Chen Yan punched the gas and bolted straight into the paint.

Now it was a solo showdown — Chen Yan vs. Hibbert, one-on-one at the rim.

Both guys took flight at the same time!

Hibbert had his arms up early, feeling real good about his rim protection instincts.

But Chen Yan didn't force it. Mid-air, he suddenly spun like a damn washing machine!

A silky-smooth 360, clean and sharp — he glided right past Hibbert and laid it in easy.

Slipping through the defense like a breeze in a bamboo forest, not even brushing a single leaf!

Score: 18–16.

"Beautiful finish! But yo, why didn't you just yam it?" Durant jogged over after the bucket, laughing.

"You think this is a video game? You don't just say dunk and it happens," Chen Yan replied, grinning.

"Hahaha!"

The two laughed and headed back on defense.

Truth was, dunking ain't just about you. You gotta read the whole situation — your man, his stance, his jump.

Hibbert had already fully committed. A 220cm beast with wings out? You ain't just dunking over that casually unless your name's Zion.

This ain't NBA2K — this is the real deal.

Next play, Hibbert banged down low and drew a foul. Hit one of two at the line. Ball back to Texas.

DJ Augustin walked it up, passed halfcourt, and dropped the rock to Durant.

KD whipped a fast, wide pass across the court — slung it in Chen Yan's direction.

Texas played with simple rules: whoever's hot gets the ball. Durant had opened strong, but Chen Yan just racked up 6 straight.

Only problem — the pass was off. Too far ahead.

Chen Yan didn't even flinch. No pause, no adjustment. Just lowered his center of gravity and started dribbling — slow and controlled.

His handle was tight, dribble barely above the floor, body weaving like a snake.

Ewing, seeing the slow rhythm, tried to pounce.

He bent low, reached out to snatch it—

But that was the trap.

The moment Ewing lunged, Chen Yan snapped the ball across his body with a lightning-quick crossover.

Looked like he might lose it — but nah, that was bait.

Ewing's body betrayed him — knees buckled, balance gone. Boom.

Dropped.

The crowd erupted.

"Ohhhh!!! He dropped him!"

"Damn! This Elite 8 looking like Rucker Park!"

"He really fell?!"

"Yeah, he fell hard!"

As fans were still going nuts over the ankle breaker, Chen Yan had already flown into the paint.

A fake pass froze Hibbert again — and then BOOM!

One-handed dunk.

Backboard shook.

Fans exploded.

The whole gym vibed with that one — pure energy, clean violence.

That was supposed to be Ewing's moment — the kind of dunk he dreamed about.

Instead, he was just a background prop in Chen Yan's highlight reel.

"What were you doing on that possession?" Hibbert snapped at Ewing, clearly pissed.

Ewing hung his head and raised his hand. "My bad."

He knew it. That blown coverage broke their whole D. Of course the big man was frustrated.

Durant jogged over again. "Yo, that move was nasty! Teach me that crossover!"

Chen Yan chuckled. "I can teach you, but it won't help."

"Why not?"

"Your legs too damn long. You lower your center of gravity and you'll just trip over yourself before you cross anyone."

Durant blinked. "…"

The next few possessions?

Ewing was rattled.

First, he threw a lazy pass that Chen Yan picked off for a fast-break dunk.

Then, under pressure again, he tried to swing it and missed everyone — the ball flew out of bounds.

Right into the stands… landing right in front of his dad.

The commentary team couldn't resist.

"Looks like Ewing wants his old man to sub in for him!"

Georgetown's coach had seen enough. He burned a timeout before Ewing totally melted down and pulled him off the floor.

"That's 10 straight points for Chen Yan!"

"This guy's scoring bursts are unreal… either nothing or everything. Just like that night he dropped 62!"

Even Iverson — sitting on the sidelines with his signature shades — took them off.

He needed his real eyes to catch this.

Truth be told, Iverson had thought all the Chen Yan hype from the media was overblown.

But after those last few minutes?

He realized… maybe the media had actually been too low-key.

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