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We're doomed!

"Beep beep!"

Gentry calls a timeout.

It's a necessary call.

With only 58.5 seconds left and trailing by 7 points, the situation looks grim for the Suns!

"Alas... 'Devil's Blade' in the face of adversity, Manu, I freaking love you."

"Hehehe, it's only when the team is in dire straits that the strongest 'Devil's Blade' emerges, one miraculous play after another, and they just keep going in. Manu is really strong!"

"Hey, all those who joked about the 'Devil's Blade' cutting through demons—does your face hurt now?"

"58.5 seconds, a 7-point difference, your Suns team is done, you know? This is San Antonio, this is the Spurs' home court, you won't take the victory away from here!"

"Er..." The Spurs fans, who had been stifled for most of the quarter, finally came to life, finally turning the tables to become the masters of their own house!

"Beautiful!"

Wall looks at the clock and the scoreboard, feeling refreshed, "Huh? So what if he scored 46 points, he's still losing the game, still can't lead the team? Carlos... tonight the 'GDP' is disciplining you, one day it will be me!"

Griffin, who had been conflicted for most of the game, finally realizes something as he starts to feel joy over the Suns' impending loss.

It's most important to see Carlos, the cause of all his mockery, lose the game!

On the opposite side of the stands.

Avril Lavigne frowns, muttering, "I don't want Carlos to lose, but... with so little time left, 7 points seem impossible to catch up."

"I don't want that either."

Lady Gaga is also in a bad mood; she's a Carlos fan who came to see Carlos win. But now, with the Suns in deep trouble, there's an over 80 to 90 percent chance they'll lose.

She's upset as well.

But worry and unhappiness can't solve the crisis, and time waits for no one. After the brief timeout, the final 58.5 seconds of life-or-death time begins!

Suns have the ball...

Trailing by 7 points, with less than a minute left, they need to rush, trying to score as quickly as possible.

"Whoosh!"

From the sidelines at center court, Nash inbounds the ball.

"Slap!"

Carlos runs sideways to catch it, steadies it in one step, drives from the left wing. Then... he pulls up directly, firing a three-pointer under Jefferson's closeout.

"Clang!"

But it's met with the jarring sound of iron.

The shot misses, yet the rebound is tipped out by Frye, caught high on the left by Nash, who promptly passes it to Curry in the corner without a second's hesitation.

"Whoosh!"

Another three-pointer attempt.

"Clang!"

Missed again...

"Sigh..."

A chorus of sighs rises from the stands.

"It's over!"

"Two key three-pointers missed, it's over now!"

Under Duncan's protection, the rebound is secured, and with just 46.1 seconds left, some irate Suns fans feel the game is beyond reach.

On the court...

The final battle continues.

Duncan passes to Parker, who evades the full-speed Curry coming up to apply intense defensive pressure, trying to disrupt, or even steal, this offensive play.

"Whoosh!"

But the steady Parker won't give him the chance, skillfully controlling the ball past the half-court, then passing it to Ginobili at the left arc top. Ginobili holds the ball to run the clock down, then feints and makes a lateral pass.

"Slap!"

Jefferson catches an open shot, tries a three-pointer.

"Stomp!"

Carlos rushes to close out the shot from the wing.

"Clang!"

Jefferson misses too, Carter grabs the rebound, passes quickly to Carlos at the top, with only 29.5 seconds left, Carlos takes the ball and sprints full speed.

Jefferson, seeing the rebound lost, immediately races back, waiting for Carlos at the top of the arc.

"Zzzap!"

Carlos rushes to the top middle of the arc, just a step outside the three-point line, completely disregards Jefferson in front of him, stops abruptly and pulls up for a three-pointer, totally unreasonable.

"Damn it!"

Jefferson is caught off guard for a moment, quickly moves to close out, trying to disrupt the shot as much as possible even if he can't block it.

But...

As Jefferson jumps, he realizes that Carlos' shot was just a fake; he didn't actually release the ball. Yet Jefferson is already airborne, lunging towards Carlos.

"Whoosh!"

Carlos subtly shifts his body, seemingly avoiding Jefferson's block, but as Jefferson flies past, Carlos jumps and leans in with his shoulder.

After colliding with Jefferson, Carlos, off-balance, flings the basketball towards the hoop.

"Beep beep!"

The whistle blows...

It's a three-point foul.

However, the fans' attention isn't on the referee when the whistle sounds, but on the spinning basketball in the air.

"Please don't go in!!"

Jefferson, realizing his mistake and hoping Carlos' three-pointer doesn't fall to avoid giving him a 4-point play opportunity, prays desperately.

But...

Against his wishes...

A sound not quite crisp, yet despairing for Jefferson, echoes through the arena.

"Bang!"

"Swoosh!"

The ball bounces off the backboard and into the net, a three-pointer good.

"No!"

Jefferson holds his head in despair as he realizes the mental explosion!

"Boom!"

And the entire arena erupts in deafening cheers.

Carlos steps to the free-throw line.

"Swoosh!"

The additional free throw is good...

Completing a 4-point play at the most critical scoring juncture for his team, he closes the 7-point gap down to 3.

At this moment...

There are only 22.4 seconds left.

The Suns still have a chance.

"Beep beep!"

Another timeout is called.

But this time, it's not the Suns but the Spurs. Even with a 3-point lead, with the crowd's momentum switching sides, rooting for the Suns, the always cautious and strategic Popovich calls a timeout to steady the ship.

"Yeah!"

In the stands...

Avril Lavigne, seeing Carlos score 4 points in one play, dances with joy. Lady Gaga, too, is all smiles, excitedly shouting: "Muy guapo—(handsome), Carlos is so good!

Only a 3-point difference... There's still a chance, go Carlos!"

"Go Carlos!"

"Legendary 3+1, haha, Carlos is too strong."

"Just like that, Carlos, explode and lead another comeback."

"What about the Spurs? What about the 'Devil's Blade' cutting through demons? With Carlos, we won't lose. Go Carlos, take a glorious victory and lead the Suns to the top of the West."

"A center hitting a 3+1, what kind of move is that?"

"A center scoring 4 points? Carlos... what kind of monster is he?"

"Come on, it's just 22.4 seconds left, we still have a 3-point lead. Let's be steady, Spurs, the victory is still ours, we will have the last laugh."

"This doesn't feel good!"

"We're doomed!"

"Uh..." The boiling crowd buzzes with comments.

Before, the victory seemed a certainty for the Spurs. But now... although the Spurs still lead, the momentum of the arena has shifted to the Suns.

However...

After the timeout, amidst the Suns fans' raucous cheers, Ginobili receives the ball. Transforming into the 'Devil's Blade', he slashes through to the paint, waging a one-man war amidst the demons.

Euro step layup.

"Swoosh!"

He shakes off Carter and Frye, and with Carlos trying to chase down the block, Ginobili hits the layup off the backboard at the limit.

'Devil's Blade' Ginobili, just as the Suns see a glimmer of hope for victory, descends like a deity, irrationally scoring 2 points and extending the lead back to 5, doubling the despair for the Suns!

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