The entire stanchion swayed dramatically back and forth.
The backboard shook violently up and down.
The rim kept vibrating with a low hum.
The net swung back and forth with the rim, as if waving a white flag in surrender to Wang Yi.
"Whoa..."
The entire flight deck of the aircraft carrier erupted in an uproar.
The noise startled several seabirds that had just landed on the radar dome atop the carrier. They quickly flapped their wings and took off.
"Oh my God!"
"Death Dunk!"
"Dunk of the century!"
Almost every spectator in the arena cried out in shock.
Whether they were Heat fans or Kings fans, everyone leaped to their feet.
Neither the Heat's nor the Kings' reserves could stay seated. They all stood up.
Rose and Westbrook moved almost in sync, both clutching their heads with their hands.
"Oh my God!"
"The king is back! He's declaring his return with that shot!"
Mouth Brother's mouth hung open. "I can't believe I've actually witnessed a Death Dunk in person in my lifetime!"
Wang Yi had performed Death Dunks many times before, but this was the first time Mouth Brother had ever seen one in person.
On the Heat's sideline, head coach Spoelstra's mouth had fallen open in an O.
He had always believed his players were all exceptionally gifted.
Booker, Edwards, and Zion—who among them couldn't take on two opponents, or even three, at once?
Yet watching this, a thought crossed his mind.
No matter how many exceptionally gifted players he gathered, if the other side had Wang Yi, Wang Yi could still overpower them.
If Spoelstra knew how to play Dou Dizhu, he would have thought:
I've got three bombs in my hand, even a rocket. I thought I was guaranteed to win.
Then Wang Yi came along