Chapter 394: The Blue vs. Purple Showdown (3)
After deliberation, the officiating crew reached a final decision: Green’s foul was deemed an extension of his earlier tactical foul. Although part of the motion exceeded the bounds of a normal defensive play, the actions were considered continuous, and therefore it could not be classified as a Flagrant 2.
In the end, Green was assessed a technical foul and allowed to remain in the game.
“I'm counting on you guys!”
Gay looked at the young players warming up, his expression complicated.
“With Jimmy out, the team has no choice but to rely on you now.”
“Don’t worry, man!”
Siakam and Anunoby, warming up in place, lifted their heads and glanced at Gay.
“We’ll defend this home!”
Butler’s absence was a massive blow to the Kings.
The entire defensive system had to be adjusted.
The best solution Malone could come up with was to redistribute Butler’s minutes between Anunoby and Siakam.
After years of development in Sacramento, both full-sized forwards had grown capable of standing on their own.
There was still a noticeable gap between these two young players and Butler, on both ends of the floor—but that gap existed only in comparison to Butler.
If not for Chen Yilun and Malone keeping a firm grip on them, either one would be instantly fought over if they ever hit the free-agent market.
“Stop zoning out. Get in there!”
Gay said as he gave both of them a solid smack on the backside.
With Jokić heading to the bench for a breather, the Kings’ lineup on the floor became Murray, Booker, Anunoby, Durant, and Siakam.
There was no traditional center, but Malone knew better than anyone that this was the ultimate embodiment of the small-ball era.
With Durant and Siakam—two completely overpowered forwards—stationed inside, their rim protection and rebounding were no worse than that of a high-quality center.
And in terms of mobility, this lineup existed on an entirely different plane compared to ordinary teams.
“Go! Go! Go!”
After securing the defensive rebound, Siakam let out a roar and fired the ball out to Murray, who was already set beyond the three-point line.
Murray caught the pass and had just turned around, still thinking about how to run the possession, when—
out of the corner of his eye, a purple figure exploded forward.
Murray focused in and saw Durant accelerating at full speed.
Seeing his senior take the lead, Murray didn’t hesitate. He pushed off hard, stretching out his long strides as he sprinted ahead.
They reached the three-point line on the Warriors’ side of the court.
Durant glanced back at Murray, then attacked from the weak-side 45-degree angle.
Murray immediately understood and leapt into the air, lofting the ball high.
Green, who had been waiting in the paint, felt his vision blur for a split second.
Durant had already appeared right in front of him.
“Boom!”
With a sharp, explosive sound, the entire Golden 1 Center erupted.
Durant caught Murray’s pass in midair and hammered the ball through the rim straight over Green.
After landing, Durant didn’t say a word. He simply stared at Green, the naked killing intent in his eyes pouring out without restraint, making Green feel a chill creep up his spine.
Normally, after a dunk that humiliating, Green’s fiery temper would have sent him straight at Durant.
But now, he didn’t have even the slightest courage to confront him.
On one hand, he was already carrying a technical foul—another one would mean a suspension.
On the other, Durant looked like a blood-soaked killing god, terrifying Green from the inside out. He didn’t even dare meet Durant’s eyes.
“Kevin’s really furious now!”
In the broadcast booth, Charles Barkley rubbed his shiny bald head, excitement written all over his face.
“Looks like Butler’s injury hit Durant hard.”
“It really has been a long time since we’ve seen Durant like this.”
For once, Kenny Smith didn’t disagree with Barkley.
“From last season through this year’s regular season, the Kings have been extremely restrained in how they’ve used Durant—and this season, even more so. That’s why when we watch games, Durant often looks relaxed, almost casual out there.”
“A Durant this sharp and aggressive—we truly haven’t seen it in a very long time.”
The commentary couldn’t reach the court, but the game itself had already reached a boiling point.
Fueled by Butler’s injury, the entire Kings team was out for blood, as if they wanted to swallow the Warriors whole.
That emotion peaked the moment Cousins checked in.
As soon as Cousins stepped on the floor, he used his massive body to lock down the paint.
Seeing Cousins call for the ball, Alexander, handling it on the perimeter, didn’t hesitate and lobbed it straight inside.
Cousins caught the pass, took a deep breath, and leaned back, backing his defender down with his enormous frame.
Green, bracing behind him, could only suffer in silence.
As a player without elite height or wingspan, Green had carved out his place among NBA big men by relying on a powerful lower body and various defensive tricks.
Those tricks were perfectly suited for dealing with the mobile centers of the small-ball era.
Unfortunately, the man in front of him now was Cousins—a genuine product of the traditional big-man era at its final peak.
Cousins barely shifted his weight, and Green was already crying inwardly.
They weren’t even in the same weight class.
Cousins had always been a heavy-duty center, and since returning to Sacramento this year, he’d had nothing to do but eat day after day. Before long, he’d grown even heavier than he was at his peak.
Feeling the crushing pressure in front of him, Green was forced to retreat a step to carve out a sliver of space.
But the instant Green backed up, Cousins spun off his back, turned to face the rim, and smashed the ball home with authority.
“This is what happens when you mess with our guys!”
After the dunk, Cousins turned his head and snarled at Green.
“No… it wasn’t me!”
Green was boiling with rage, desperate to vent, but remembering his situation, he could only grit his teeth and swallow it.
In the end, the Kings crushed the Warriors 115–88.
With the restraints completely lifted, Durant poured in 45 points, reminding the entire league that he was still the same Death God—unstoppable no matter who stood in his way.
“Any news yet?”
Before the game had even ended, Chen Yilun had already left for a hospital in Sacramento.
The moment he entered, he saw the team doctor waiting at the entrance.
“We’ve basically got the results.”
The doctor’s expression was grim.
“It’s not good news.”
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