As for that Japanese guy, Shiraha Otoko, he was actually starting to struggle to guard Wang Liang.
Fortunately, his offense was still on point, and he attacked with such ferocity that he finished nearly every possession with a dunk.
Gradually, the score reached 8–8.
This was far beyond what anyone had expected.
Xu Jingyu banged his tin mug against the desk again. "I don't get this. Honestly, I don't get it! I knew Brother Yi was coaching Wang Liang, giving him tactics and a strategy, but I never imagined Wang Liang could go toe-to-toe with that Red Hair and tie it up at 8–8."
Yang Yi, Director Zhang, and the others hadn't expected it either.
The comments were full of praise for Wang Liang.
Meanwhile, back in Japan, the countless Japanese netizens watching were all on edge.
"What?! That brat actually managed to tie God's Left Hand at 8–8?"
"Black whistle! Damn it, it has to be a black whistle!"
"There's nothing we can do. That brat has home-court advantage. But Shiraha-san, ganbatte!"
As far as these Japanese netizens were concerned, Shiraha Otoko had only given up four points in the first game because he'd been careless.
In the second game, Shiraha Otoko was giving it everything he had. He'd surely crush that brat with ease.
They couldn't accept that the game had been pushed to 8–8, so they could only try to make excuses for Shiraha Otoko.
They weren't the only ones who couldn't accept it. Shiraha Otoko himself found it even harder to swallow.
He'd genuinely thought he could easily overpower the brat with his skill, yet now the score was tied at 8–8. To him, it was a humiliation.
On the sidelines, an influencer had spontaneously organized the crowd into chanting for defense.
Holding two empty water