NBA: Northeast China's spectacular dunks sweep the entire league.

The daytime hustle and bustle had long since dissipated, and the team members had all gone home. The only sound left in the huge stadium was the monotonous yet powerful "thump-thump" of basketballs hitting the floor.

Lin Hao was wearing a black sleeveless vest, sweat dripping down his bulging muscles and soaking a large area of ​​the floor. He had just missed his 527th shot of the day; the basketball hit the back of the rim, bounced out, and rolled to the sidelines.

Dell Curry sat on a folding chair on the sidelines, a stopwatch in his hand and a thick notebook in his, looking more like a meticulous engineer than a coach. He picked up the ball, twirled it in his hand, and then got up and walked over to Lin Hao.

"Lin, let's talk."

Dell's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable sense of professionalism.

Lin Hao, panting heavily, wiped the sweat from his face and nodded: "Old Dai, go ahead, I'm listening."

He knew in his heart that the 20 consecutive victories during the day were just an appetizer, and the real battle was about to begin.

The two sat side by side on the floor by the court, their backs against the wall. Dell opened his laptop on his lap and turned to a page covered in dense red lines.

"Lin, your shooting is already among the best in the league," Dell said, his tone as objective as if he were analyzing a game replay. "You have a high release point, strong resistance to interference, and your shooting range covers the entire half court. That's why you were able to win the MVP in your rookie year."

"However," Dale changed the subject, pointing to several key points on the diagram with his pen, "your release time is too slow. From receiving the ball to releasing it, it takes an average of 1.2 seconds. This is fine under normal defense, but against top perimeter defenders, like a 'glove' like Payton, or in playoff-level intensity, that 0.3-second difference is the difference between missing the shot and getting blocked."

Lin Hao frowned, staring at the picture. He knew he was slow, but he hadn't expected it to be this specific.

"There's also the issue of balance," Dale continued, gesturing to demonstrate Lin Hao's shooting motion. "You jump too high, and your hang time is too long. While it looks good and is visually appealing, it's too energy-consuming, and the landing is unstable, which isn't conducive to consecutive shots. A true shooter should fly close to the ground, like this—"

As Dale spoke, he mimicked a lightning-fast shooting motion, his body barely moving, yet the ball swished through the net with a "whoosh."

"See that? That's called a 'jump shot'." Dale looked at Lin Hao. "Your current style is a 'jump shot,' all out and wide, suitable for dominating weaker teams in the regular season. But in the playoffs, when every point has to be earned through sheer physical effort, you need a more energy-efficient and faster shooting style."

Lin Hao nodded thoughtfully. He recalled the playoffs last season against the Spurs, where Duncan was like a wall right in front of him, and he had to struggle to avoid those long arms every time he shot, which was quite exhausting.

"Old Dai, what do you suggest we change it to?" Lin Hao turned his head, a fierce glint in his eyes. "You tell me how to change it, and I'll train it that way! Even if you have to break down all the movements and start over!"

Looking into Lin Hao's eyes, which held a pure, burning desire for victory, Dale nodded inwardly. This kid was not only talented, but more importantly, he was obedient and listened to the truth.

"Don't rush to relearn the moves." Dell closed his laptop, his expression serious. "We need to tailor a set of tactics for you first. You can't play well with just defense without an offensive system. I've watched the Warriors' game tapes from the last few years; their previous tactics were too chaotic and lacked a core."

He took out another sketch from his bag and spread it on the ground.

"This is the system I designed for you, called the 'Three-Second Sniper' system."

Dale pointed to the running routes on the sketch: "First, use Murphy or Richardson's screen to run to the top of the key. Second, as you receive the ball, point your toes towards the basket, no need to adjust, just shoot. Third, regardless of whether it goes in or not, immediately retreat on defense, don't give the opponent a chance to launch a fast break."

Lin Hao leaned closer to take a look, his eyes lighting up with each glance. The tactic was simple and brutal, devoid of any fancy pick-and-roll plays; it was all about straightforward movement and shooting.

"This tactic... needs a name." Lin Hao stroked his chin, his straightforward Northeastern personality kicking in. "Calling it 'Three-Second Sniping' is too fancy; we need something down-to-earth. Let me think... what should we do?"

"Tactical name?" Dale paused for a moment.

"Exactly!" Lin Hao slapped his thigh. "Just like a hunter sniping—fast, accurate, and ruthless! One shot, one kill! No hesitation! This name has to be super cool!"

"Then you'd better think about it carefully."

For the next three hours, they worked on the sketch, meticulously refining the details until midnight.

From the angle of the screen to the hand position when receiving the ball, to the rhythm of the shot, and even the range of the feint, everything was repeatedly refined.

Lin Hao listened intently, occasionally offering his own ideas, which Dale would adjust according to his physical condition. This was no longer a master-disciple relationship, but more like two generals rehearsing on a sand table.

"Alright, that's enough for today." Dell glanced at his watch; it was already 2 a.m. "Starting tomorrow, we'll begin with the most basic 'dumping' technique. I'll use a high-speed camera to record your movements and correct them frame by frame."

Lin Hao stood up, stretched his stiff shoulders, and felt a surge of energy coursing through his body. Looking at Dale's tired yet still spirited face, a warm feeling welled up inside him.

"Old Dai," Lin Hao suddenly pulled two cans of yellow peaches from his backpack, handing one to him, "We Northeasterners say, once we've made a decision, we have to do it like crazy. Take this can, eat it whenever you're hungry. For the next month, I won't do anything but practice shooting with you!"

Dell took the can, looked at the bright red and green packaging, and couldn't help but laugh: "Okay. I'll put my word here too: in a month, I'll make you the most difficult shooter to defend in the league."

When I stepped out of the training hall, the sea breeze was chilly.

Lin Hao looked up at the starry sky, clutching the tactical sketch of the "sniper" tightly in his hand.

He knew that starting tonight, the Golden State Warriors' offensive system would be completely changed.

And his era will officially arrive through the trials and tribulations of each and every shot.

[Ding! Detected that the host has reached a deep tactical consensus with their personal shooting coach, triggering the exclusive mission: [Tactical Master]! Mission Requirements: Master the 'Northeast Sniper' system within one month and achieve a shooting percentage of 45% or higher in actual combat. Mission Rewards: Permanently increase three-point shooting percentage by 3%, increase teammates' tactical execution efficiency by 20%, and unlock the special passive skill 'Sniper Moment'.]

Lin Hao smirked, crushed the empty can, and threw it into the trash can.

"Just you wait, next season, we'll show the whole league how powerful our Northeast snipers are!"