The viewers watching the livestream were thrilled when Little Grandpa Liu won the game 5–0.
"Wait, this Chinese old man is that good? He's crushing a Japanese pro!"
"No wonder China has won the championship so many years in a row. Even an amateur old guy from a street court can beat the Japanese National Team."
"The Japanese National Team has really embarrassed themselves this time! Hahaha! Little Grandpa Liu is mighty! Little Grandpa Liu is awesome!"
The China Team players all burst into applause and cheers, shouting, "Grandpa, you're the man!"
The smile on Wang Yi's face turned into one of delight.
Even he hadn't expected Little Grandpa Liu to actually win.
Sure, part of the old man's victory was down to Furui Taiji letting him score, and part of it was because the rules favored the offense.
But the fact that an amateur old guy from a street court could beat the Japanese National Team—
That alone was the stuff of legend.
So Wang Yi clapped, smiling.
Meanwhile, the Japanese National Team players, who had been grinning just moments ago, were all left dumbfounded.
"Nani?!"
"Furui actually lost?"
"Furui, what am I supposed to say to you?"
Hachimura looked bitter, too.
They had underestimated their opponent.
They'd misjudged the old man's touch.
They never would have imagined that the old man's hook shots were practically automatic on a pickup court.
His shooting percentage just now had been almost as good as theirs in practice.
How could the old man's hook shot be that accurate?
In fact, Hachimura had indeed underestimated him.
Sure, you pros trained every day, practicing your shots until you could make them with precision.
But how many years had you been doing that?
You were only in your twenties or thirties. At most, you'd been