Chapter 5

Returning to the restricted area, Yang Mo immediately lowered his center of gravity, firmly blocking Olajuwon, and then signaled for the ball. When Yang Mo asked for the ball, Anfernee Hardaway quickly passed it to him. For a guard known for his exceptional talent, passing was not a difficult task.

Yang Mo caught the basketball and then fiercely collided with Olajuwon, using his unparalleled strength to forcefully push him away. He then turned without any flair and jumped, slamming the basketball into the hoop with great force... Boom!

The hoop trembled, and the entire arena fell silent in the face of this furious dunk.

Despite everyone knowing Shaq's three basic offensive moves, no one had been able to defend against them head-on. In his prime, Shaquille O'Neal had every right to boast to all the centers in the world: "In the face of absolute strength, any technique is just a cloud!"

"See, this is the price of provoking me!"

After landing, Yang Mo raised his head and roared in anger. He was arrogant and defiant.

Yang Mo's arrogant roar immediately drew cheers from the fans. This was the Shaq they wanted, the Shaq who swept through the ranks.

Chapter 5: The Fierce and Invincible Shaq

Amidst the cheers and screams of the crowd, Yang Mo turned and ran back. As he passed Kenny Smith, he didn't forget to remind him, "Try to draw another foul if you dare."

Yang Mo's words were full of contempt, as if he was certain Kenny Smith wouldn't dare. Even a clay Buddha has three fires, let alone a simple-minded black man? Kenny Smith immediately responded, "Alright, just wait."

Kenny Smith dribbled the ball to the front court and quickly asked his teammates to clear the paint. He planned to replicate his previous offensive play.

He called out Olajuwon, used his body to set a screen to shake off his defender, and then quickly dashed towards the restricted area, with Yang Mo as his target.

He thought he could replicate his previous success, but this time, Yang Mo didn't intend to give him a chance to catch him off guard. As Kenny Smith crossed the free-throw line, Yang Mo was already prepared. He stared intently at Kenny Smith's shoulder, his right hand raised high, ready to welcome him into the trap.

Seeing this, Kenny Smith felt a hint of fear but still charged in with determination. When he reached just outside the three-second area, he slowed down, his shoulders trembling, and his hands continuously crossing over, trying to confuse Yang Mo and draw a foul as before.

However, Yang Mo wasn't fooled by the feint, standing firm like a mountain. He knew his advantage; as long as he stood his ground and spread his arms, Kenny Smith would have no way out.

Seeing Yang Mo standing like a mountain in the restricted area, Kenny Smith felt immense pressure but still gritted his teeth and decided to charge forward. How could he make him foul without taking a risk?

But how could Yang Mo let him have his way? He wouldn't fall into the same trap twice.

When Kenny Smith was just one step away from Yang Mo, Yang Mo didn't retreat but stepped forward. This sudden move threw Kenny Smith into a panic. Seeing the wall of flesh in front of him, Kenny Smith finally thought of passing, but it was too late.

As he raised the ball, just as he was about to throw it behind his head... Puff!

His body, driven by inertia, crashed into Yang Mo. Immediately, he felt a tingling in his palm, and the basketball, which had not yet been passed, disappeared from above his head.

Less than half a second later... Bang!

Kenny Smith was thrown to the ground by the massive rebound force.

As he hit the floor, Kenny Smith saw the shadow of the basketball passing over his eyes. Shaquille O'Neal had swiftly thrown the ball to the other end of the court!

Then, a roar of cheers erupted from the crowd. The sound of the hoop being slammed echoed, followed by thunderous applause. As the cheers filled his ears, a massive black hand extended in front of Kenny Smith, accompanied by a cold remark: "Buddy, can you be any more pathetic?"

"Shit!"

Kenny Smith muttered, then fiercely swatted away Yang Mo's hand and got up on his own.

After teaching Kenny Smith a lesson, Yang Mo immediately locked his gaze on Clyde Drexler. His thick lips curled slightly as he said with a hint of contempt, "If you have the guts, come challenge me again."

Yang Mo was full of killing intent, ready to repay in kind.

"You wait."

Clyde Drexler raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Although Kenny Smith had stumbled, he wasn't Kenny Smith. Having soared through the air for years, he considered himself second only to Michael Jordan. How could he let his air superiority be so easily taken by Shaq?

Shaq might be fierce, but I'm no pushover!

Yang Mo was pleased with Drexler's willingness to face him head-on. A man should stand up where he falls.

Running back to the front court, he deeply planted himself in the restricted area, one hand on his waist, the other beckoning to Drexler, taunting him, "Listen up, Glide, fly in here, and I'll fix you up!"

Drexler, already harboring resentment, couldn't bear this provocation. He quickly moved out of his tactical position, came to the three-point line, and forcefully took the ball from Sam Cassell.

After getting the ball, before Drexler could ask Olajuwon for a screen, Yang Mo said to Scott, who was defending Drexler, "Hey, Daniels, you can go rest at the front court. You don't need to guard that old, broken glider. Let him in, and watch me take him down!"

Scott, hearing Yang Mo's bold words and seeing Drexler's face about to explode with anger, gladly stepped back.

As Scott ran away, the defensive barrier between them was instantly removed.

"Come in, there's hot Chinese cuisine here!" Yang Mo raised his massive hand, teasing. He originally wanted to say "hot pot," but couldn't find the English word for it in Shaq's knowledge base.

Although Drexler wasn't a fierce competitor, he was still a hero in Portland. How could he tolerate being repeatedly mocked by this young upstart, Shaq O'Neal?

With a determined bite of his lip, a surge of youthful energy rushed through him. He suddenly seemed younger, and his body accelerated rapidly, dashing towards the restricted area like a swift fox...

Seeing Drexler charge towards him at lightning speed, Yang Mo felt a slight shock but quickly regained his composure. He firmly planted his feet in the restricted area, waiting for Drexler's attack.

At this moment, Yang Mo had made up his mind. No matter what fake moves Drexler made or how he maneuvered in the air, he would stand still and wait for him to glide to the basket, then take him down.

Because Yang Mo deeply understood that no matter how Drexler changed, the hoop would not move an inch. Theoretically, this was called: "You can escape the monk, but not the temple!"

Drexler was shocked by Yang Mo's immovable stance but had no other choice in the air. Pass the ball? If you come in with your eyes wide open and pass at the last moment, wouldn't you be laughed at?

Since he couldn't pass, he had to charge forward, no matter what. After all, his landing point was only one: the hoop.

As Drexler's glide trajectory began to descend, Yang Mo finally raised his hand. When Drexler's body was less than half a meter away from his, Yang Mo finally jumped... Whoosh!

When Shaq O'Neal's massive body rose like a jet, Yang Mo realized: Shaq's freakish strength wasn't the only thing; his explosive power was also insane.

Such a player couldn't rule the league for over a decade unless he was too lazy!

When Yang Mo suddenly appeared in the air, blocking all of Drexler's landing paths, Drexler finally regretted it. An old man shouldn't easily act like a young man!

Smack!

When Yang Mo's massive hand slammed down on the basketball above Drexler's head, Drexler's eyes, which had seen a glimmer of hope, were filled with despair. A powerful force hit him, and Drexler, who had been gliding in the air, suddenly felt his center of gravity shift, his head heavy and his feet light, and he involuntarily fell backward!

Bang!

The basketball was the first to be slammed to the ground by the brute force.

Puff!

The Glide was also inevitably flipped over and fell to the ground... Ah!

Roar...

As Drexler lay on the floor, clutching his buttocks and moaning in pain, Yang Mo raised his hands high amidst the cheers and screams of the crowd, enjoying the hero's treatment. He had never dreamed that one day he would receive the cheers of over 20,000 people in an NBA arena, but now he had done it.

At this moment, he couldn't help but feel a bit elated. He leaned down to the groaning Drexler and said with a smile, "Mr. Glide, you need to go back to the shop for some oil."

In response to Yang Mo's taunt, Drexler could only close his eyes in pain. He was old. When he used to dunk on others, he had thought about the day he would be blocked, but he didn't expect it to come so soon.

You can't fight time. In his youth, he had been a fierce warrior, but in his old age, he was easily taken down by a young upstart. This was a common occurrence.

Soon, the team doctor came and carried him off the court.

After Drexler was carried off, the Rockets' mood inexplicably sank. Drexler was the core of the Rockets' perimeter. Now, with him out, only Olajuwon remained.

Now, Olajuwon had to carry the Rockets. Otherwise, the situation could quickly spiral out of control, leading to a disastrous defeat.

Clearly, Olajuwon understood this.

So, when the whistle blew, he leaned on Yang Mo and asked for the ball, "Give me the ball!"

Seeing that Olajuwon was finally going to single him out, Yang Mo was secretly delighted. He wanted to see how great Olajuwon's Dream Shake was, so he didn't front him but let him receive the ball easily.

After receiving the ball, Olajuwon immediately turned to face Yang Mo. Clearly, he knew his advantage. He couldn't outmuscle Shaq in the post, so a frontal attack was the best approach to fully utilize his footwork.

Thump, thump, thump!

Olajuwon bent down and casually played with a between-the-legs dribble. His center of gravity was very low, and his dribbling was very fast.

Seeing this, Yang Mo couldn't help but admire his ball handling. Even a small guard might not be able to dribble as smoothly, and Olajuwon, a big center, could dribble so skillfully.

After about three seconds of crossover dribbling, Olajuwon suddenly accelerated, taking a large step forward with his left foot... Thump!

His left foot firmly planted on the floor.

This move was very solid, but Yang Mo couldn't make a judgment because he didn't know what Olajuwon's next move would be. Olajuwon had too many feints, but upon closer inspection, none of them were real feints.

As Yang Mo struggled, Olajuwon's entire body suddenly spun with his left foot, completely changing his offensive direction. Yang Mo immediately rushed over to prevent him from scoring easily. But as his center of gravity shifted, Olajuwon's body suddenly spun back counterclockwise...

As their bodies brushed past each other, Yang Mo could only close his eyes in despair—indeed, it was the Dream Shake!

Swish!

Olajuwon easily put the basketball in the hoop. At this moment, Yang Mo's eyes were still looking in the opposite direction of the hoop.

Yang Mo had been thoroughly fooled.

"Now, do you know what a technical player is, kid?" Olajuwon's thick lips parted, saying a sentence that made Yang Mo's eyes widen in shock.

Yang Mo, hearing this, was so angry he wanted to spit blood. He lowered his head and quickly ran back.

Just as he returned to the three-point line, he heard Anfernee Hardaway's cry for help from the backcourt. Turning his head, he saw Hardaway being tightly double-teamed by Sam Cassell and Kenny Smith.

Seeing this, Yang Mo quickly signaled for Hardaway to pass him the ball. Hardaway originally wanted Yang Mo to set a screen for him, but to his surprise, Yang Mo, still thinking of himself as Shaq O'Neal, reached out for the ball. Hardaway, seeing this, wanted to kick Yang Mo but, given the urgency, passed the ball to him.

Whoosh!

As the basketball sped towards him, Robert Horry immediately tried to intercept it. But Yang Mo took a small step forward, and his massive body instantly blocked Horry's path. Horry, colliding with Yang Mo's back, felt as if he had hit a wall, gasping for breath and almost passing out.

Yang Mo caught the basketball and immediately turned.

Robert Horry quickly adjusted his breathing, spread his arms in front of Yang Mo, and didn't believe that O'Neal could break through his defense with the ball. In his view, O'Neal was always a big fat guy, with a much higher center of gravity and less agility than himself.

His assumption was correct, but at this moment, he was facing a combination of Yang Mo and O'Neal, with all their strengths fused together. So... he was doomed.

Bang!

Facing Robert Horry's outstretched hand, Yang Mo simply lowered his shoulder and used a low dribble to completely neutralize the threat. With a step, he left Horry far behind...

When the crowd saw Yang Mo so cleanly and smoothly bypass Robert Horry's well-prepared interception, they couldn't help but shout out various exclamations and praises. They had never seen such a nimble big man.

With this cheer, Yang Mo suddenly had a realization—could it be that his current center of gravity was his own? No wonder he felt no discomfort while dribbling.

By the time he realized this, he had already stepped into the free-throw line. At this moment, his only opponent was Olajuwon!

Seeing this, Yang Mo quickly stopped, a confident smile appearing on his face. He whispered, "Now, I'll show you what a technical player really is."

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

Yang Mo, like Olajuwon before, played with a between-the-legs dribble, moving like a fat butterfly. Although it looked strange and out of place, Olajuwon didn't dare to try to steal the ball because he couldn't see any feints. He felt that every move Yang Mo made was a feint, trying to trick him.

Since Olajuwon didn't press, Yang Mo suddenly accelerated, his massive body, supported by his freakish explosive power, quickly dashing to the left. Olajuwon, seeing this, quickly adjusted his defensive stance.

Just as Olajuwon adjusted his stance, Yang Mo suddenly came to a sudden stop. Whoosh! Although the greater the mass, the greater the inertia, Yang Mo's center of gravity allowed him to stop quickly and sharply.

When Yang Mo completed this impressive stop, the crowd let out a collective sigh of amazement—none of them could believe that a 7'3" big man like O'Neal could perform such a move, which was usually reserved for top guards and forwards. As for centers? Forget it! Even God couldn't imagine such a feat. But now, it had actually happened.

Even God couldn't imagine it, so the African native Olajuwon had no idea. Thus, he was caught off guard. When Yang Mo stopped in front of him, Olajuwon visibly trembled—not from a physical reflex, but from a psychological one. It was like a high-speed train suddenly braking in front of you.

Olajuwon's tremble made Yang Mo chuckle again. This was exactly what he had expected. But he didn't linger—while he was down, he had to finish him off. With a flick of his wrist, his body, which had stopped, suddenly moved north, bypassing Olajuwon's weak defensive stance.

Swish!

After bypassing the wooden Olajuwon, Yang Mo used a simple yet effective bank shot to end this Hollywood-style suspenseful play.

This time, not a single fan in the arena booed, even though Yang Mo didn't dunk. This dazzling offensive technique was far more impressive than a dunk.

Soon, the arena erupted in a deafening roar of cheers.

Amidst the cheers, Yang Mo slightly turned his head, mimicking Olajuwon's earlier tone, and said, "Old man, this is what a technical player is!"

"..." Olajuwon was speechless. In the moment they passed each other, he finally realized that he was truly inferior to O'Neal. Before the game, he had thought his finesse could counter O'Neal's strength, but he didn't expect O'Neal to have already reached a level of both strength and finesse.

Invincible!

Although he was reluctant to admit it, he could no longer stop O'Neal from doing anything on the court. O'Neal was not only unafraid of the hack-a-Shaq strategy but was also soft to the point of being terrifying, with skills comparable to top guards.

Indeed, with a body like an elephant, strength like a black bear, ferocity like a shark, agility like a cat, and speed like a vulture, how could such a player not be invincible?

As Olajuwon marveled at O'