The most important thing was that this involved a huge sponsorship deal for Shiraha Otoko.
The Japanese businesspeople in China had all promised him that if he could challenge Wang Yi, they would pay him a sponsorship fee whether he won or lost.
But now he'd been beaten by a fifteen-year-old middle school student. He wasn't even qualified to challenge Wang Yi.
That huge sponsorship fee was as good as gone.
No. This wouldn't do.
He had to find a way to salvage the situation.
He could afford to lose face.
But Japan couldn't afford to lose face.
He could afford to lose face, but he couldn't afford to lose that huge sponsorship fee.
With that thought, he parted the crowd and headed toward Wang Yi.
The cameraman behind him had no idea what Shiraha Otoko was planning, but after hesitating for a moment, he followed with his camera.
Shiraha Otoko pushed through the crowd and came to stand in front of Wang Yi.
Pointing at Wang Yi with his left hand, he said, "Wang Yi, you're despicable!"
The moment he said that, the villagers and fans around them flared up and surged toward him.
"Can't beat him at basketball, so now you're insulting him?"
"Jap, you've got a death wish!"
"This Jap's got a filthy mouth. Get him!"
But the village chief stepped forward and held them back. "Don't hit him! Don't hit him!"
Some hot-blooded young men weren't having it. "Chief, you're still stopping us when we're about to beat up this Jap?"
The village chief shook his head and explained, "That's not the point. He's only using his mouth right now; he hasn't thrown a punch. So we use our mouths, too—we don't hit him. Besides, he's got a cameraman filming. If he spreads this around, it