The road ahead was still long, but Lin Yi wasn't the type to back down. If he had to hammer iron to reach enlightenment, then so be it.
But—one thing at a time.
When his Rebounding Maniac badge leveled up to Amethyst, he immediately felt the difference. In the second half against the Pacers, the rebound-location hints were popping up faster and more accurately than ever.
With all five badges now sitting at Amethyst, that constant tightness in his mind finally loosened. Everything felt… organized. Whole. Like the family was back together.
Even so, that invisible growth bottleneck still hovered over him like a stubborn ghost. He had already maxed out his growth rate, but the true breakthrough still refused to show itself.
He knew he wasn't strong enough yet—simple as that. Paul's arrival had taken a huge weight off his shoulders and given him better protection, but it also highlighted how much pressure Lin Yi had been under. Half the league had tried to target him this season, and he'd dodged most of it with wit and pure stubbornness.
Still, Lin Yi wasn't blind. Part of the Knicks' dominance this year came from a weak Eastern Conference. Once more, super teams formed—and they would—the league's balance would tilt again. The gap between contenders and everyone else would only widen.
For now, the Knicks had a soft schedule. But if he ever wanted to truly rule the league, Lin Yi knew the truth: even if he dug up that imaginary tree of talent buried in him, he still wasn't there yet.
His base attributes wouldn't improve this season, which meant his badges had become his main path forward. And as the Heat matured and the league shifted, building a Knicks dynasty looked harder and harder.
Winning a championship was doable. Building a dynasty? That was the NBA eternal truth—much harder.
That's why Lin Yi had been aiming at LeBron. If the Knicks wanted a real shot, they had to dominate the East first.
The West?
Forget it. Those old Western teams were like cockroaches—no matter how often he knocked them down, they popped right back up.
And the Warriors… the more he messed with them, the scarier they became. Truly a team born from torment.
So Lin Yi trained. Hard. Every day. Because if he didn't push himself to the edge, how was he supposed to push other teams to the brink?
Were NBA superstars easy to bully?
…Well, sometimes.
But back to business.
With all five badges now at Amethyst, the system finally revealed the requirements for upgrading them to Diamond.
Dream Footwork (C/PF)
Requirement: 600 successful paint scores using pump fakes.
Lin Yi looked at the number and sighed. At least two seasons. No shortcut.
Crazy Rebounder (C/PF)
Requirement: 2000 rebounds.
At his current pace? A season and a half—realistic.
Tough Shotmaker (SF/SG)
Requirement: 700 successful difficult shots.
Given his diet of contested pull-ups, leaning jumpers, and fadeaways, this might actually be the first Diamond he unlocked.
Once his base attributes caught up, pairing them with a Diamond Tough Shotmaker badge would turn his shooting stability into something… unnatural.
Ankle Breaker (SF/SG)
Requirement:
5000 one-on-one possessions vs two system-recognized elite defenders
or
Break an opponent's balance 500 times in real games.
Given that the Knicks had several elite defenders, Lin Yi decided to start with Tony Allen and Tyson Chandler. Tony would be the harder challenge—Ankle Breaker only counted drives, not pull-up jumpers, so Lin Yi couldn't simply shoot over him.
But a Diamond Ankle Breaker was worth it. It would let him gain 2–3 kg with no drop in speed or agility, and his dribbling would hit a level where even Kyrie Irving might have to take him seriously in a one-on-one.
It was arguably the single most practical badge. A mismatch-maker's dream.
Limitless Range
Requirement: 300 validated super-deep threes (at least one step behind the arc).
Ever since this badge reached Amethyst and unlocked its burst effect, Lin Yi liked it a lot more. Still, 300 deep bombs were no joke.
"I kinda miss the days when I could fire up 30 wild shots…" he muttered. No wonder players improved by chucking. If you don't brick, do you even hoop?
But one truth remained: the harder the grind, the stronger the Diamond badge.
Pink Diamond came after that—legendary tier. So Diamond was already superstar level.
With that in mind, Lin Yi returned to New York and called up Tony Allen first.
Tyson Chandler had already carried enough of his burdens on the court. Time to rotate the victims.
And the playoffs were around the corner. Tony needed to sharpen his defense anyway.
"No problem," Tony said, "but in a one-on-one? Lin, I can't guard you. I can handle 6'10" Durant, sure—but you're 7'. It's different."
To calm him down, Lin Yi said, "Relax, Tony. I won't shoot. Just drives."
Tony's eyes brightened.
"Tyson wasn't lying then… he said you're the type who tortures yourself in training. Lin, you sure you don't have… you know… that kind of hobby?"
Lin Yi paused.
"...Tony, can we not go there?"
Lin Yi had only just shaken off the whole single joke, and now the team had moved on to calling him a masochist? Great.
In his one-on-one sessions with Tony Allen, he quickly remembered why big men rarely enjoy driving past guards—getting low enough was a chore. Still, the grind paid off. His two-handed ball-handling under tight pressure improved noticeably.
"Lin," Tony muttered between possessions, "I've never seen a guy over 210 centimeters bend his waist like that."
Lin Yi agreed matter-of-factly that his lower back was indeed pretty solid. Years of brutal training had built that stamina.
The drills looked monotonous to anyone watching, but Lin Yi genuinely enjoyed them. Tony Allen, on the other hand, was on the brink of collapse. Once Lin got into his rhythm, he needed 250 wins a day to feel satisfied, and Tony was trapped in that storm.
The effort reminded Tony of the feeling he had defending Kobe.