Inside the Knicks' locker room.
King Arthur's Fighting Spirit was surging. His voice carried excitement and passion as he said, "You all know that Wang Yi and I have faced each other many times in the Playoffs. I know exactly what that guy is capable of."
"We have to keep the pressure on them from start to finish and give them no room to breathe. If we let him catch his breath, taking them down will be incredibly difficult."
"Yes, I was praising them at the press conference just now, but that was strategic flattery. I only did it so I wouldn't provoke Wang Yi."
"Out on the court, I won't hold back at all. We all have to bring our defense to its absolute limit! Don't think of this as the third game of the series. Treat it as our last game of the season, a winner-take-all game."
"We have to treat it like a Finals Game 7!"
By the end, King Arthur was practically shouting.
The veins in his neck bulged, and spittle flew from his mouth.
Everyone nodded firmly at his words.
Still, King Arthur knew that when a team was up 2–0, most players would relax. Just yelling at them wasn't going to make them genuinely nervous.
As the team's leader, he had to set an example. He had to bring the intensity from the opening tip and raise both their offense and defense to Finals Game 7 levels. Only then could he bring the others along with him.
He had already lost to Wang Yi three times in the Playoffs. He absolutely did not want to lose again.
Meanwhile, in the cramped visiting locker room.
The players all looked solemn.
The three coaches looked just as grim.
It was no wonder. They had thrown everything