Those three South Sudanese players: Connie Connie, Dute, and Mashat.
All three stood there dumbfounded, staring at Wang Yi.
They often heard people praise them as aliens, as freaks.
But now they understood: Wang Yi was the alien—not just an alien, but an alien among aliens.
A freak among freaks!
At that moment, the smile that had just begun to curl the Pistons coach Billups's lips froze on his face.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
How was this possible?
How the hell was this possible?
A second ago, they had still been in heaven...
No, 0.3 seconds ago, they had still been in heaven. Then, 0.3 seconds later, they had plunged straight into hell.
Who had dragged them down there?
His gaze fell on Wang Yi. Yes, it was that guy.
That guy was a devil!
No, he was the devil among devils!
What was he?
The Great Demon King!!
Yes, the Great Demon King!!!
He was the one who had sent the entire Pistons team from heaven to hell in just 0.3 seconds.
That guy was definitely the Great Demon King.
In fact, Wang Yi was the Great Demon King not only to those three players and the Pistons.
He was the Great Demon King to the other 29 teams, and to every other star player.
In the last eleven years, he had won nine championships.
The only two he hadn't won were the years he retired.
If someone like that wasn't the Great Demon King, then who was?
On the sidelines.
Along with the shock, Billups felt something else: he couldn't accept it.
He couldn't accept falling from heaven into hell in just 0.3 seconds.
He wasn't the only one. His old teammate and close friend Hamilton, standing beside him, couldn't accept it either.
No one could have