The Flight Beyond Limits.

The arena erupted in murmurs as the score for LeBron's dunk was revealed.

Aaron Gordon looked up at the scoreboard, his expression conflicted. He shook his head with a bitter smile.

That score meant he was eliminated in the first round.

It also meant that the rest of the dunks he had prepared would never see the light of day.

A pang of regret hit him. He should've saved his second dunk for the first round.

Han Sen's expression reflected mild surprise, but it wasn't because he thought the score was unfair — it was because Tracy McGrady had the guts to give LeBron a nine.

If LeBron James got knocked out in the first round, McGrady would be the prime target of LeBron's fans.

"LeBron didn't lose to his opponents. He lost to a garbage judge like McGrady."

Han could already picture the backlash McGrady would face online.

The camera shifted to Han.

With LeBron scoring 49 points, Han now needed a perfect score to secure his spot in the finals.

---

Han stood up, and the crowd showered him with cheers and encouragement.

In this historic Dunk Contest, no one's elimination could be considered a surprise.

LeBron's near-exit was proof that Han had to bring a jaw-dropping dunk to the table if he wanted to get the points he needed.

Nikola Jokić once again joined Han as his assistant, standing under the basket. This time, however, Jokić wasn't facing the three-point line but the crowd. He tucked the ball on the back of his neck, crouching slightly.

Han prepared for his dunk from the baseline.

The crowd watched with bated breath as Han took off.

He sprinted toward the basket and leaped from about half a meter away.

To everyone's astonishment, he soared past the hoop without any clear chance of making a straightforward dunk.

Did Han just botch his dunk?

That thought crossed the minds of everyone in the crowd.

According to the contest rules, each contestant had three attempts per dunk. Even if he missed the first try, Han still had two more chances.

But in this all-time great showdown, every dunk so far had been a first-attempt success. A failed first attempt meant Han's chances of a perfect score were slim.

Perhaps the judges would give him a 49, forcing a dunk-off between him and LeBron to determine who would face Zach LaVine in the finals.

As those thoughts swirled in the fans' minds, Han, still mid-air, pulled off an impossible move.

Flying past the basket, Han twisted mid-air like he was defying gravity itself. His eyes locked on Jokić, who stood motionless under the hoop, the ball perched on the back of his neck.

In one seamless motion, Han reached behind his head, snatching the ball as he soared past. But it wasn't just a grab — it was a contortionist's twist, a reverse scorpion move, his body arching backward, right arm stretched to its limit.

The crowd thought he was too far past the basket.

No way he can pull this off.

But Han's wrist snapped forward, and the ball slammed through the hoop with a thunderous finish. His arm, fully extended, swung down like a whip as he hung in the air for a split second longer — just long enough for the crowd to take it all in.

The crowd? Stunned.

The commentators? Speechless.

"God Almighty!" Charles Barkley bellowed, throwing up his hands. "I've never seen anything like it!"

Shaquille O'Neal, sitting at the judges' table, was frozen in place.

The arena went completely quiet as fans replayed the dunk in their heads, trying to process what they'd just witnessed.

Jokić? He just shrugged and walked back to the bench.

"I told you he'd need me," he muttered to no one in particular.

On the far end of the judges' table, Tracy McGrady whispered to a staff member. Moments later, the giant LED screen in the arena displayed a slow-motion replay of Han's dunk.

The crowd lost it.

The move, reminiscent of a 'scorpion dunk', defied human anatomy. Even in slow motion, it looked utterly inhuman.

This wasn't a dunk Han invented. It was inspired by a dunk from Canadian streetball legend Jordan Kilganon, who fans called the 'White Jordan'.

Han had long believed that the best dunks came from streetballers. He often studied their moves, incorporating them into his performances.

When the replay ended, the judges raised their scorecards.

Five tens.

Han got the perfect score he needed.

Like Gordon and LaVine before him, Han had delivered a dunk that deserved more than 50 points.

As the perfect score appeared on the screen, the arena filled with cheers and applause.

Gordon's first dunk score had been too low, and McGrady's nine for LeBron was unexpected. But by the end of the round, it was clear that LaVine and Han were the two most deserving finalists.

Under Armour was making a killing from this event.

But LeBron's fans? They were left in an awkward position.

In their eyes, LeBron should've been the undisputed favorite. Yet he was eliminated in the first round.

It felt like he'd shown up without truly showing up — a paradox that perfectly captured the night's strange energy.

As for LeBron himself, while he looked a bit disappointed, it wasn't devastating. He had already set up his narrative with his pre-contest statement.

If he'd won? ESPN would have run with the "Greatest Dunk King" storyline all night.

If he'd lost? Blame the judges. He gave it his all, and he'd lose with honor.

---

Before the finals began, Kenny Smith conducted quick interviews with the two remaining contestants.

LaVine remained humble as ever, promising to give his best performance.

Han's response? Short and direct.

"I'm looking forward to it."

He wasn't one for long speeches, especially now. He knew exactly what LaVine was capable of. In Han's mind, LaVine wasn't just the best dunker of his era — he was better than Vince Carter.

The difference? Carter's bulkier frame made his dunks look more powerful. But when it came to creativity and pure verticality? LaVine was in a class of his own.

This final wouldn't be easy.

The format remained unchanged: two dunks each, judges scoring each one.

LaVine stepped up first, just as he had in the prelims.

And, like before, he went with a self-lob dunk.

The crowd leaned in, anticipating something special.

Self-lob dunks weren't just about flair; they demanded absolute precision. The toss had to be perfect. The bounce had to be perfect. And then? The dunker had to make it look effortless.

LaVine tossed the ball, chased after it, and, as it bounced back up, he snatched it out of the air.

One fluid motion.

360-degree rotation.

Right-hand slam.

The arena exploded.

Han, watching from the sidelines, nodded in approval.

LaVine wasn't holding back. He was showing his full potential right from the start.

The cameras zoomed in on the judges, capturing their reactions. The crowd held its breath, waiting for the scores.

No hesitation.

50.

Because how could it be anything else?

Giving that dunk anything less would've been an insult to the contest itself.

---

Han stood up, and the crowd responded with thunderous cheers. They knew it was his turn to answer.

This time, Nikola Jokić remained seated.

Han approached the three-point line, casually dribbling the ball a few times before rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms.

At first, fans found his warm-up routine odd. Now? They understood.

This was preparation for another reverse-joint dunk — a move that could easily lead to injury if miscalculated.

Han had spent hours preparing for this contest. Not for validation. Much like the Three-Point Contest, he didn't need the trophy to prove his worth.

But once he committed to competing? He went all in.

This was about respect.

After the previous year's controversy, where he'd pulled out of the contest due to fan-vote drama, Han knew he had a debt to repay.

He wasn't going to let fans down again.

Cradling the ball in his left hand, Han took off toward the hoop.

At the free-throw line, he launched off his left foot, twisting his body mid-air.

With his left hand, he swung the ball behind his back and tossed it upward in a reverse arc.

The crowd's eyes locked on the ball's trajectory.

It floated perfectly — almost too perfectly.

And then, it missed.

The ball bounced off the rim.

The arena let out a collective groan.

But what was strange was that the energy in the building hadn't deflated. If anything, the anticipation grew stronger.

Because everyone knew what Han was trying to do.

Without wasting time, Han collected the ball and reset for his second attempt.

This time, the toss was flawless.

The ball soared up in a perfect arc, and Han's next move became clear.

As he tossed the ball, his right arm swung in a phantom windmill motion.

At first, it seemed pointless — he wasn't holding a ball.

But as the ball reached its peak, Han's right hand came down like a hammer, snatching the ball out of the air mid-spin and slamming it through the hoop with unreal power.

From the baseline, it looked surreal. Impossible.

But for fans seated directly in front of the basket? It was like watching a move straight out of Kuroko no Basuke. One moment, Han's hand was empty. The next? The ball appeared, as if from nowhere.

The arena?

Pandemonium.

Shaquille O'Neal jumped out of his seat, holding up his scorecard.

"10!"

"This dunk is even crazier than the scorpion dunk!" Barkley shouted from the booth. "Even if he missed it twice, it's still a damn 10!"

The other judges followed Shaq's lead.

10. 10. 10. 10. 10.

Another perfect 50.

The arena shook from the noise of the crowd.

Han Sen had done it again.

Barkley, shaking his head in disbelief, leaned into the mic.

"People are gonna remember this day forever."

For the fans, the contest had already hit legendary status after the preliminary round. But the finals? It was exceeding every expectation.

What made it even crazier?

Most contestants had already pulled out their best dunks to make it to the finals.

But Han and LaVine?

They still had more to show.

---

All eyes turned to Zach LaVine.

He stepped behind the half-court line once more.

Another free-throw line dunk?

The crowd's anticipation reached a fever pitch.

What else could LaVine possibly pull off from that distance?

Fans weren't disappointed.

After sprinting toward the basket, LaVine executed a between-the-legs dunk from the free-throw line.

One motion. Perfect execution.

The arena went wild.

"Insane…" someone muttered.

A free-throw line dunk would be a perfect 50 in most contests.

But for LaVine? It was just a warm-up.

Even Barkley was in awe. "Three-pointers keep getting further out. Now we've got dunks doing the same?"

The judges exchanged looks, clearly struggling.

If they awarded another 50, LaVine would have a perfect score — and it would put immense pressure on Han for his final attempt.

After a brief discussion, the judges raised their scorecards.

50.

It wasn't a decision they could avoid. Anything less would have disrespected the artistry on display.

The crowd erupted, but the excitement wasn't over.

Han Sen still had one more dunk.

As the score appeared on the screen, Han chuckled softly.

"We're going into overtime."

He had no doubt that his second dunk would earn a 50, too.

---

Han's setup took longer than expected. The crowd's curiosity grew as a car drove onto the court from the player tunnel.

A BYD electric vehicle.

It wasn't just a prop — it was Han's endorsement deal with the Chinese automaker.

At the time, BYD was still growing, but Han knew what the company would achieve in the future. As a time traveler, he was making a long-term bet on history.

This Dunk Contest would go down as one of the greatest ever. Han wanted BYD to be part of that moment.

When the car stopped under the hoop, the crowd's excitement skyrocketed.

This wasn't the first time a car had been used in a Dunk Contest. Blake Griffin famously dunked over a car hood in 2011 to win the contest.

But Han? He wasn't here to replicate. He was here to surpass.

When Nikola Jokić popped his head out of the car's sunroof, the crowd erupted into laughter.

Han wasn't jumping over the hood — he was clearing the entire middle section of the car.

And with Jokić inside, it also showed off BYD's impressive interior space.

Jokić, ever the assistant, stood inside the car with the ball placed on the back of his neck, just as he had before.

Han stretched at the baseline, shaking his arms and taking a deep breath.

The crowd fell silent, holding their breath.

This dunk wasn't just about difficulty. It was dangerous.

All or nothing.

Han Sen started his sprint, leaping with full force about half a meter before reaching the car.

In that instant, it was clear — his head was already level with the rim shortly after takeoff.

As he soared forward, Han spread his legs wide.

This wasn't just a jump over a car. He was also clearing Jokić, who was sticking out of the sunroof.

Grabbing the ball firmly with both hands, Han flew over Jokić's head with precision and grace.

The crowd couldn't hold back. Cheers erupted before Han even finished the dunk.

As he completed the jump, Han twisted in mid-air, slamming the ball home with a reverse dunk. Releasing the rim quickly, he twisted his body into an arch and landed on the other side of the car — barely avoiding a dangerous fall.

The landing made Charles Barkley instinctively clutch his chest.

"Man, that almost gave me a heart attack!" Barkley exclaimed.

The crowd was no longer sitting. Fans had left their seats, cheering and clapping wildly for Han's audacious dunk.

Even Zach LaVine shook his head in disbelief, letting out a small laugh.

"That's the dunk of the night," LaVine admitted. "No question."

The judges didn't hesitate this time. Another perfect 50.

Both finalists — Han Sen and LaVine — had scored 100 in the finals.

Overtime was inevitable.

"I could watch them dunk all night!" Barkley's comment perfectly summed up the fans' mood.

The tiebreaker rules were simple: one dunk each.

LaVine was up first. Once again, he opted for a self-lob dunk.

But this time, instead of a free-throw line jump, he threw the ball from behind the backboard.

This wasn't just about jumping high — it required perfect bounce control. If LaVine jumped too far, he'd risk hitting his head on the rim.

LaVine's dunk? A through-the-legs, reverse slam off a self-lob from behind the basket.

One try. Nailed it.

The difficulty level? Off the charts.

But after the wild night, the crowd's expectations had skyrocketed. While impressive, the dunk didn't electrify them like earlier attempts.

The judges, however, remained professional. They deliberated briefly before revealing the scores.

Four 10s. One 9. Total: 49.

The lone 9?

Tracy McGrady — again.

McGrady had already taken the heat for scoring LeBron's dunk low. Now? He didn't mind being the villain twice in one night.

This time, though, the fans understood. It was clear that LaVine's dunk arsenal was running thin after such an intense contest.

The show had been so electrifying that continuing too long would inevitably lower the quality of the contest.

Now, all eyes turned to Han Sen.

The crowd's cheers erupted once again. They knew the winner was about to be decided.

Han had a chance to claim victory. But if his dunk didn't exceed LaVine's, the judges might still hand the trophy to LaVine.

Han took his position — starting from beyond midcourt.

The fans started buzzing with speculation.

Was Han planning a free-throw line dunk, just like LaVine?

LaVine's free-throw dunks had drawn gasps, but Han hadn't tried one yet. The fans figured he might replicate LaVine's moves to outshine him.

They were wrong.

Because Han wasn't just going for a free-throw line dunk.

As he soared through the air, Han spun his entire body mid-air before even reaching the basket.

The crowd lost it.

Han Sen was attempting a 360-degree dunk from the free-throw line.

Fans in the stands were seen clutching their heads in disbelief, overwhelmed by the sheer difficulty of the attempt.

This wasn't just a dunk. It was a statement.

As Han twisted through the air, ball in hand, it felt like time had slowed down.

Then came the finish.

BOOM!

The ball crashed through the hoop with a thunderous slam.

At that moment, there was no debate left.

The greatest dunk king in NBA history had just been crowned.

(End of Chapter)