Chapter 117: His Basketball Skills Are Like Magic, Unstoppable!

The live camera focused on Lee Lekang, capturing the attention of viewers gathered around the broadcast television. Some spectators were beginning to piece together the situation, while others remained utterly baffled—but none of that mattered. The halftime show was captivating, and the crowd’s cheers made it clear that the Chinese-American gentleman, arm-in-arm with a stunning beauty, was a well-known figure. The applause for him never ceased.

Kendall looked puzzled. “Why would he do this?”

The audience was here for entertainment, but Kendall knew that once these two men stepped onto the court, things would get serious. Devon was a professional player—there was no way he would let his boyfriend be embarrassed on purpose.

“You don’t have to pay him any attention,” Kendall said, gripping Lee’s arm.

“It’s okay. I do know a bit about basketball,” Lee Lekang smiled, gently patting her hand. “Let me play with him. Real men face every challenge head-on.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, worried.

“Just watch me, baby,” he replied with a confident grin.

With that, Lee rose and waved to the camera. Thunderous applause erupted from all corners of the arena. Even the Lakers players in the front row clapped encouragingly. LeBron James himself stood, making way for Lee to step onto the court.

Lee shed his suit jacket, tossing it to Kendall, then stepped forward with a smile. He exchanged a fist bump with LeBron before jogging to the center of the court.

Dressed in a shirt and dress pants with polished leather shoes, his height—about 1.8 meters—suddenly seemed diminutive among these towering athletes. Yet, his smile and confidence remained undiminished.

Devon approached, ball in hand. The host explained the rules: “If you can break through from beyond the three-point line to the free-throw lane within three seconds, you’ll earn applause. If you make the shot, you’ll receive cheers and autographs from the entire team. Deal?”

“No problem!” Lee nodded confidently.

Normally, in entertainment segments like this, players wouldn’t take it seriously—they’d ease up a little, let the guest have some fun, maybe take a casual shot. But judging by Devon’s fierce glare, there was no mercy coming.

Still, Lee was unfazed. Could he really compete with a professional player? That would be presumptuous.

After all, everyone had their own expertise.

But here was the thing: he possessed a certain magic that enhanced his speed and control, allowing him to turn the tide unexpectedly.

Silently, Lee bestowed upon himself a “Gale” buff while preparing telekinetic control with his other hand.

He caught the ball Devon hurled forcefully at him, dribbled twice to get a feel, then feinted a left attack only to dart right—a move Devon easily read and blocked.

But no one expected Lee to suddenly jump back and shoot mid-air. Devon raised his hand to block but was too late—the ball soared high, arcing gracefully before sinking perfectly through the hoop, a flawless swish.

“Wow!” the host gasped, and the crowd erupted in applause, some even rising to their feet.

Among the front-row players familiar with Lee, smiles and claps followed. No one could have imagined that a man in a suit and dress shoes, hardly dressed like an athlete, would dare to challenge a team’s top scorer from beyond the arc.

For insiders, this bordered on humiliation.

Devon himself was stunned. He never expected the guy to shoot from three-point range—and hit it so precisely. It had to be luck.

“Another round?” Lee asked with a smile.

Devon gritted his teeth, tossing the ball back. “Bring it on!”

Lee caught the ball, and Devon’s defense turned deadly serious. His eyes burned with intensity, his speed ready to explode at any moment. Anyone attempting to breach his defense would face relentless interception.

Yet Lee had no intention of engaging in close combat with this two-meter giant. That was not his strength.

When it came to basketball dribbling or tricks, he wasn’t even confident at the amateur level.

But now, he only needed to leverage his magical edge—take a couple of steps after catching the ball, then accelerate and dodge as Devon lunged, followed by a jump shot.

Another three-pointer. The ball swished through the net with pinpoint accuracy, eliciting gasps and cheers all around.

The crowd’s astonishment was unstoppable.

The first shot might have been luck, but the second, with Devon on guard, could hardly be dismissed as such.

Some noticed that Lee avoided close contact, relying solely on long-range shots, because once he got near, there was no way past Devon’s defense.

But those were mere observations.

He was just a spectator, not even an amateur player.

And yet, he’d just made two consecutive three-pointers. That was nothing short of miraculous.

Any fan would boast about that for a lifetime.

Those who knew him saw his basketball skills as equally unfathomable as his magic.

If anyone said this was a halftime magic show, the audience would have no doubt: magician Lee Lekang had made a dream crossover into the NBA.

But this was not the case.

The crowd was uttering countless “holy shits” under their breath.

Kendall covered her mouth, her face a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Thanks to her family ties—her ex-brother-in-law was Lamar Odom—she was more familiar with basketball than most women. She understood just how stunning this feat was.

What was even more astonishing was Devon’s reaction: he was fired up, refusing to accept defeat, yelling, “Again!”

If fate granted him another chance, he would regret this decision deeply.

He would have regretted inviting Lee up from the start, regretted the intent to humiliate him.

Lee agreed eagerly once more.

In the next moment, Devon gave Lee no breathing room, crouching low and lunging fiercely. He swore he would snatch the ball and show this guy what professionalism meant.

Devon realized Lee’s only skill was his accurate three-point shooting. If he could disrupt his shooting motion and steal the ball, victory would be his.

But Lee, facing Devon’s dive, executed a swift spin move, dribbled, and accelerated forward.

The entire arena was stunned as Lee suddenly blitzed past Devon.

Against a tall, long-limbed, lightning-fast professional athlete, he had broken through.

This man, clad in a suit and dress shoes under thousands of watchful eyes, suddenly exploded with speed, spun around, bypassed Devon, and rushed inside the three-point line, hastily launching a shot.

There was no grace or precision this time; time was too short for finesse.

The shot was pure luck—it struck the rim’s edge, bounced, rolled nearly halfway around the hoop, and yet, miraculously, dropped in.

“Oh my God!”

“Look at this nightmare!”

“Fuck! This can’t be real!”

The crowd was speechless, utterly stunned.

Viewers at home were equally bewildered.

Even the professional players held their heads, exchanging looks as if to say, “Is this even possible?”

One or two shots could be explained away, but three, including one inside the three-point line? This phenomenon...

They were willing to call it Lee Lekang’s live magic show.

Indeed.

The audience was convinced it was all some collusion between the magician and the court, a halftime spectacle disguised as a basketball game.

They accepted only what they could comprehend—but none considered the poor Devon standing frozen nearby.

This young man was suffering the heaviest self-doubt in history.

He felt as though the sky had fallen, his faith shattered, and he no longer recognized himself.