Chapter Forty-Three: Dream On If You Want to Win!

"Chen Feng, what did that guy want with you just now?" At that moment, Lin Hang suddenly leaned over to Chen Feng and asked.

"Nothing much. Why do you ask?" Chen Feng looked at Lin Hang, a bit puzzled. "Do you know him?"

Lin Hang nodded slightly and began, "His name is Luo Wenhao, a student from No. 17 High School. I faced him last year—he's very strong. But that's not the point. Before this, he contacted me, offered me a hundred thousand yuan, and wanted me to throw the game in this tournament!"

"He approached you too?" Chen Feng paused in surprise, then broke into a laugh. "Well, that's quite the coincidence. He came to me as well, asking me to throw the match!"

"You agreed to it?" Lin Hang looked at Chen Feng in disbelief.

"No, though I was tempted to!" Chen Feng sneered and said slowly, "But that bastard wanted me to have Fang Yue spend the night with him. I ended up getting into a fight with some of his thugs. Why?"

Lin Hang shook his head and replied, "Makes sense now. He asked me to throw the game, not to pass to you. Since he approached me, he probably went to the others as well!"

Chen Feng furrowed his brow. "And did you agree?"

"Agree? Please." Lin Hang laughed. "My family isn't exactly starving. Besides, does it look like I'd betray a friend for money?"

Chen Feng grinned mischievously. "Honestly, you do kind of look the part."

"Get lost!" Lin Hang cursed, but then continued, "Still, you need to be careful with Luo Wenhao. He's notorious at No. 17 for being a troublemaker. His family is in real estate here in Jiangzhou—they're pretty influential, much more than mine. Watch yourself."

Ever since Chen Feng had saved him—and let him taste his legendary beef balls—Lin Hang's attitude towards Chen Feng had completely changed.

"Don't worry," Chen Feng replied, full of confidence. "They don't stand a chance against me!" With the power of the Extraction System, he believed in himself entirely. Then his eyes darted to Lin Hang. "By the way, does anyone else know you turned Luo Wenhao down?"

"Everyone knows the unspoken rules here. Who's going to say anything?" Lin Hang shrugged.

Chen Feng broke into a wide smile. "Then I need your help with something..."

After the tedious speeches, the match finally began.

Chen Feng stepped into the center of the basketball court. Luo Wenhao, sporting a cold sneer, watched him closely. He and Fang Chenghao moved to the center circle for the jump-off.

As the coach tossed the ball high, both players leapt simultaneously.

Something felt off to Chen Feng right away. Fang Chenghao didn't jump as high as he could—clearly holding back. In that instant, Luo Wenhao swatted the ball forcefully, sending it straight to a No. 17 teammate.

That player was incredibly fast, sprinting toward the basket. Chen Feng exploded with speed, blocking his path almost instantly. The player quickly passed the ball away, and it landed in Luo Wenhao's hands. Luo Wenhao shot Chen Feng a mocking glance—then took the shot.

A perfect swish.

Watching Luo Wenhao sink the basket, Chen Feng clenched his fist slightly.

First High's ball.

"Pass me the ball!" Chen Feng called out to the point guard.

But the point guard ignored him, passing to Fang Chenghao instead. In that brief moment, Fang Chenghao failed to catch it—it was stolen by No. 17, who charged hard for another layup.

"How about that?" Luo Wenhao sidled up to Chen Feng, a taunting smile on his lips. "Here's a little secret: I've already bought off all your teammates. Relax, I’ll make sure you lose spectacularly today. The city's best player? In your dreams!"

Chen Feng clenched his fists, but his lips curved slightly. "Is this all you’ve got? Let me tell you, the game isn’t over yet. Anything can happen."

First High's ball again.

Bang!

Suddenly, Chen Feng sprang into action—intercepting a pass from his own teammate. In a flash, he was a bolt of lightning, streaking toward No. 17's basket. With two swift, elegant moves, like a master dancer, he was already at the three-point line.

He shot.

The ball traced a perfect arc and dropped through the hoop.

"Four to three!" Chen Feng glanced coolly at Luo Wenhao, then swept his gaze over Fang Chenghao and the others. They lowered their heads in shame, guilt gnawing at them for selling him out.

Lin Hang flashed Chen Feng a smile, and Chen Feng’s lips curled in return.

No. 17 inbounded the ball. Chen Feng stood in Luo Wenhao’s path, who stared back. "Still not giving up? You really think you can control the whole court?"

"You never know until you try," Chen Feng replied with a grin. Then, in a heartbeat, he launched forward, catching Luo Wenhao off guard, and stole the ball from No. 17. Alone, he charged back down the court, and from the three-point line—another shot.

"Six to four!" Chen Feng looked back at Luo Wenhao, wearing a faint smile. "Let me show you what real skill looks like. Your feeble tricks are best left at home."

Luo Wenhao clenched his fists. No one had ever dared mock him to his face before, but this guy actually had the nerve.

"What are you all standing around for? Block him—don’t let him through!" Luo Wenhao roared—not just at his teammates, but also at Chen Feng’s own.

No. 17 attacked again. As soon as Chen Feng moved, he realized with a frown—his own teammates were blocking him, deliberately giving No. 17 the advantage.

"Damn it!" Chen Feng cursed. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry, Chen Feng," came Fang Chenghao’s voice in his ear.

At that moment, Luo Wenhao sprang up, both hands slamming the ball toward the hoop. The backboard rattled with a thunderous dunk.

The savage dunk drew wild cheers from the crowd.

Luo Wenhao shot Chen Feng a mocking look, but he felt a tremor in his arms—a sharp, almost breaking pain, especially in his left arm, which Chen Feng had once dislocated. Though it had healed, the fierce force of that dunk left his arm throbbing.

First High's ball.

"Chen Feng!" Lin Hang suddenly called out, quickly passing him the ball. Chen Feng grinned, seized the ball, and charged toward No. 17's basket.

He weaved past several defenders, but this time, instead of a three-pointer, he drove straight to the hoop, preparing for a ferocious dunk.

"Not a chance!" Luo Wenhao leapt up, blocking Chen Feng’s path like a helicopter in flight.

But Chen Feng was even more formidable. His power was overwhelming. Luo Wenhao’s hand slapped the ball, but he felt a terrifying force surge through it, shaking his entire arm—he couldn’t stop Chen Feng.

With a deafening crash, Chen Feng slammed the ball through the hoop. The sound reverberated through the gym, the backboard creaking ominously, as if it might shatter.

Luo Wenhao crashed heavily to the floor, his arm aching and trembling as if it might break apart, the pain searing deep into the bone.

Chen Feng glanced at him, a mocking smile on his lips. "Did you really think you could stop me?"

"Why couldn't I?" Luo Wenhao gritted his teeth, coldly retorting, "Even if I can’t, don’t think you’ll win that easily!"

"I told you, I’ll show you my strength. Even if you bribe every one of my teammates, you and I are not in the same league." Chen Feng sneered. "This match—victory is mine!"

"In your dreams!" Luo Wenhao got up and launched another furious assault on First High, throwing himself into dunk after dunk, ignoring the agony in his arm.

Chen Feng answered in kind, retaliating with his own dunks.

The match was spectacular—more intense than any before. It became a personal duel between Chen Feng and Luo Wenhao. With his teammates betraying him, Chen Feng found it nearly impossible to stop Luo Wenhao, but his own attacks, especially with Lin Hang’s support, were unstoppable.

At halftime, First High held a six-point lead.

"Damn it, my arm is killing me!" Luo Wenhao winced during the break, feeling as though his arm really might break. He was exhausted—just defending against Chen Feng in the first half had drained him.

He recalled Chen Feng’s relentless dunks, his seemingly endless stamina. Even alone, he put immense pressure on No. 17. Not just Luo Wenhao—everyone felt utterly spent. Luo Wenhao drew a sharp breath, thinking, "Chen Feng is terrifying. Even with all this, he’s still ahead. Is this his true strength?"

"No, impossible!" Luo Wenhao shook his head fiercely, gritting his teeth. "I have to win. Even now, am I still not enough to defeat him?"