If I had to sum up the first quarter in one simple sentence, it was Holiday's nightmare.
In that quarter, Wang Yi showed exactly what it meant to be downright insane.
He told his teammates that whoever Holiday was guarding should come set a screen for him, so he could isolate Holiday over and over.
Then everyone watched Wang Yi keep scoring right over Holiday.
In the entire first quarter, he took nine shots over Holiday—and made all nine.
What was a drifting fadeaway;
what was a three-pointer from a negative angle;
a Backcourt Three-pointer, a Logo pull-up three, an Alley-oop three.
In short, whenever he shot over Holiday, the ball went in.
The sight left the spectators' scalps tingling.
"Does this guy ever miss?"
"He's a shooting machine."
"He got swatted out of the air while shooting a Logo three, and still made it. I'm fucking impressed."
In just the first quarter, Wang Yi made five shots that people had long called "Divine Shots."
Holiday was completely numb.
He simply couldn't imagine how anyone could make shots from every posture and position.
Shots that were insanely difficult to everyone else seemed as easy as eating and drinking to Wang Yi.
As he watched Wang Yi score over him again and again, the shadow Wang Yi had once cast over him rose in his heart once more.
Wang Yi was still that Great Demon King.
He couldn't score on offense, and he couldn't stop him on defense.
Holiday's blazing performances in the earlier rounds now seemed like a mirage.
Just a beautiful dream he'd had.
And now Wang Yi had come to shatter that mirage and wake him from his dream.
When he woke, he found that he was still the one getting abused, and Wang Yi was still the