He had only played half the game, but as Olajuwon walked off the court, his legs felt like they were filled with lead, so sore he could barely move.

Just then, an arm reached out and steadied Olajuwon by the waist.

He looked down. It was Chen Yu.

"Let’s go."

Chen Yu smiled and helped Olajuwon hurry back to the locker room.

With so little time, not a minute could be wasted.

Back in the locker room, Olajuwon practically collapsed onto the massage table.

He was drenched in sweat as if he’d just been pulled from the water, gasping for breath.

"Easy now. Relax. Follow my rhythm and take deep breaths." Chen Yu began to count, regulating Olajuwon’s breathing.

Playing nonstop like that took a huge toll on his stamina.

Normally, when a player enters the game, they might need two to three minutes to warm up and adapt to the intensity. After that, they can play for five to eight minutes, which makes up a single rotation within a quarter.

That’s why in a normal rotation, starters are usually subbed out after about eight minutes.

They rest for a few minutes, then go back on the court and play until halftime.

It’s the most scientific rotation method, based on a player’s condition and stamina cycles.

True "microwave" players—the kind who can enter the game at any moment and be instantly effective—are very rare.

Therefore, for someone like Olajuwon, playing without a minute’s rest meant his stamina was draining at an exponential rate.

It was safe to say that without the support of the system’s effects, Olajuwon couldn’t even think about playing in the second half.

Skiles walked over, anxiously watching Chen Yu work.

Of the five men on the court, Olajuwon was the most crucial.

He was currently the Suns’ defensive anchor. He was seasoned and experienced, with great court coverage. When the King’s used their various passing combinations to find an open man, it was his job to fill in the gaps.

Looking at the entire Suns roster, no one besides him was capable of handling such a task.

"Hakeem, you holding up?" Skiles asked in a low voice.

Chen Yu applied a Silver Level effect. Olajuwon felt so good he almost let out a groan, but he kept his lips pursed and simply gave a thumbs-up.

Against a formidable opponent like the King, they had no choice but to go all out.

"Scott, try to use all our timeouts in the second half," Chen Yu said, turning his head.

Even a short timeout would let the players catch their breath.

Counting the official timeouts, they could always squeeze in some rest for the players here and there.

Skiles hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Calling timeouts too often could also disrupt the rhythm of the game.

A few minutes later, Chen Yu finished and then waved Hardaway over.

He, on the other hand, was doing fine. He was younger, after all. After a Bronze-level recovery effect, he felt incredibly refreshed and said with a smile, "Chen, I think you’ll be able to head straight for the airport after this."

Without looking up, Chen Yu replied, "There’s still half a game to go. You’re that confident?"

"Of course. I haven’t even started trying yet," Hardaway said, pointing to himself.

In the entire first half, Hardaway was 4-for-7 from the field, with only 11 points.

He really hadn’t started to turn it on.

Chen Yu just smiled. Nothing more needed to be said.

When the second half started and Adelman saw Olajuwon take the court again, his expression darkened.

So did Weber’s.

During halftime, Adelman had singled him out, telling him he needed to play more efficiently and improve his shooting percentage.

Weber had been secretly calculating, thinking that after how hard Olajuwon had played in the first half, his stamina would surely be an issue in the second. ’That’s when I’ll make my move.’

But right from the start, Olajuwon took him to school.

Olajuwon came up with a huge chase-down block, pinning the ball against the backboard.

Weber, who stumbled as he landed, looked absolutely livid.

’I’m an All-Star! And I just got blocked by a 39-year-old geezer who’s about to retire.’

But soon, his expression grew even darker.

Olajuwon was actually going to take him on one-on-one.

He backed Weber down under the basket. The ball arrived, and Olajuwon was already in motion.

Pivoting on his left foot, he faked with a simple jab step from his right, throwing off Weber’s center of gravity. He instantly pulled the ball back and spun for a little hook shot.

It dropped cleanly through the net.

Olajuwon didn’t celebrate. Expressionless, he turned and ran back down the court.

But deep inside, it felt as if a fire was raging.

The long minutes on the court were mentally exhausting for Olajuwon.

Chen Yu could alleviate physical fatigue, but there was nothing he could do about mental exhaustion.

However, reaching the point of utter exhaustion had paradoxically ignited Olajuwon’s competitive spirit.

He felt he still had the energy to do more—not just on defense, but on offense as well.

’I’m Hakeem Olajuwon!’

’Back in my youth, scoring was as easy as slicing a melon.’

’Those two years we won the championship, I averaged 33 points and 10 rebounds in the playoffs. As far as the eye could see, there wasn’t a single person who could stop me. I destroyed Ewing and schooled O’Neal. I was invincible.’

’I’m just old, not incapable of scoring.’

On the next possession, he was in the same spot.

A fake, a probe, a spin.

Weber felt his own low-post skills were pretty good. His footwork was slick, and against clumsy big men, he could usually make them look like lumbering oafs.

But in that moment, he was the one being put on a clinic, and it sent a chill down his spine.

That’s just how J Kidd ran the floor—the moment a player got hot, he’d get them the ball.

For three straight possessions, Olajuwon took on Weber one-on-one and managed to score every single time.

The lead had widened to over ten points.

On the sidelines, Adelman was jumping up and down in frustration, screaming at Weber about what he was doing.

Weber’s face was grim, but he didn’t say a word.

His performance today was just awful; he was being completely dominated by Olajuwon in every facet of the game.

"I think we’ve got this one."

Nelson suddenly commented from the bench.

Chen Yu nodded.

He had been thinking Hardaway would be the one to pop off in the second half, but unexpectedly, Olajuwon was the first to erupt.

The old man was playing like a legend today.

He was the defensive anchor and could score at will in isolation—he was simply omnipotent.

In the third quarter, Olajuwon went 5-for-5, putting up an incredible 13 points with unbelievable efficiency.

He was even on track to score 20-plus for the game.

With just over three minutes left in the fourth quarter, the King finally threw in the towel.

They were still trailing by a full 15 points.

Adelman sat back down, and his brow remained deeply furrowed until the final buzzer.

To be honest, the King’s target all season had been the Lakers. They saw the Lakers as their only real rival in the playoffs.

Adelman hadn’t really taken any other teams seriously.

As for the Suns, did you think that "team of old, weak, and injured players" nickname was for nothing?

Olajuwon and Ewing had been healthy all season long, but it was an undeniable fact that their stats had declined significantly.

But now Adelman was realizing that the two of them had just been saving their energy to explode in the playoffs.

"Rick, we’re in trouble," Pete Carril said grimly from beside him.

Adelman didn’t say a word, but his heart felt heavier than ever.

The final score was 96 to 84.

The Phoenix Suns defeated the King by 12 points.

Hardaway still led the team with a game-high 26 points.

Olajuwon, however, surprisingly finished with the team’s second-highest score of 21 points, along with 9 rebounds, 4 assists, and 4 blocks.

In comparison, Weber only managed 16 points, 8 rebounds, and 3 assists—a disastrous performance.

Still, it hadn’t been an easy win for the Phoenix Suns.

Olajuwon didn’t come off the court until the final moments when the King surrendered. He played a total of 45 minutes, giving it absolutely everything he had.

Even Nelson couldn’t help but sigh, "This was just against the King. What are we going to do when we play the Lakers?"

If they had to fight this hard against just the King, how much harder would Olajuwon have to push himself against the Lakers and O’Neal?

Chen Yu nodded thoughtfully, then immediately smiled. "There’s no other way. Championships aren’t that easy to win. How can you get one if you don’t fight for it?"

"Let’s go."

Chen Yu said to Nelson.

After he was done with Olajuwon and the others, he had to hurry to the airport.

Chen Yu was also at his wits’ end; all the important games were happening at once.

’And Ronaldo,’ he thought, ’what a guy. It wasn’t enough for me to just heal you, I also have to be there in person to watch you win the title.’

In the dead of night, Chen Yu hurried from the arena to the airport.

The match was at 3:00 PM local time in Italy.

It was in Rome, at the world-famous Olympic Stadium.

Lazio was hosting Inter Milan.

As he walked out of Da Vinci Airport, a private car sent by Inter was waiting to pick him up.

The car door opened, and out stepped none other than the old man himself, Moratti.

"Chen, we meet again!" Moratti immediately stepped forward and hugged Chen Yu.

Chen Yu patted him on the back, and after a few pleasantries, asked him how his back was doing.

"Just as you said, I’ve been riding a bicycle every day, and it feels much better," Moratti said, patting his lower back.

Chen Yu gave him a quick scan with the Eye of All-Seeing. It had indeed improved quite a bit.

He got into the car.

"Why didn’t Lexi come?" Moratti asked. He had been hoping to invite the two of them to have some fun in Italy, perhaps by attending Inter Milan’s championship parade.

Chen Yu sighed.

He had originally wanted Lexi to come too. The plan was for them to travel separately—she would leave from Phoenix and they would meet up in Rome.

But at the last minute, Lexi decided she didn’t want to come.

In her words, the trip was too rushed.

After all, Chen Yu had to fly right back to the United States after the match, so he wouldn’t be able to stay in Italy for more than a couple of days.

With all that hassle, she figured it was better not to go at all.

It had almost made Chen Yu not want to come either.

"That makes sense. You’re in the middle of the playoffs. So, do you think you can win the championship this year?" Moratti asked.

Chen Yu glanced at the old man. ’What’s with that tone?’ he thought. ’Is he showing off to me?’

"It’s hard to say. Definitely not as certain as you guys, though. Your championship is already in the bag." Chen Yu offered a compliment nonetheless.

Those words were music to Moratti’s ears. He said mysteriously, "Chen, after we win the title, stay for a couple more days and join our championship parade. I’ll have a surprise ready for you."

A surprise?

Chen Yu raised an eyebrow. ’A cash bonus?’

’The old man really ought to thank me properly,’ he thought. ’Inter Milan’s incredible run this season has a lot to do with the fact that I healed Ronaldo.’

"Alright, I’ll look forward to it."

Inwardly, however, Chen Yu couldn’t help but have a nagging thought.

’Don’t let Inter choke at the last minute.’

’The game isn’t over yet, after all.’

’In soccer, the ball is round. You never know what’s going to happen.’

By the time they arrived at the stadium, spectators were already having their tickets checked and heading inside.

Outside the stadium, a massive crowd of Inter Milan fans had gathered. Plumes of colorful smoke from flares shot into the sky, as if Inter had already won the title.

"Do you want to go to the locker room and see Ronnie and the others?" Moratti asked.

Chen Yu didn’t really want to go. He would have much preferred to head to the spacious luxury suite, grab something to eat and drink, and get some proper rest.

But since Moratti had made the offer, it would have been rude not to go.

They made their way to the locker room.

The moment he pushed open the door, he heard Ronaldo’s booming voice shouting.

"Champions! Champions!"

Everyone was gathered in a circle, shouting. Vieri had already impatiently popped a bottle of champagne and was spraying it everywhere.

"Chen!"

Ronaldo had a sharp eye and spotted Chen Yu instantly. He immediately squeezed through the crowd and rushed over.

Before Chen Yu could even embrace him, Ronaldo lifted his jersey.

Chen Yu’s face instantly darkened.

’It was that damn portrait of him again.’

’No way,’ he thought. ’No matter what, I have to make Ronaldo change out of that undershirt for this match.’