Even King Arthur, the man known as King Arthur, leaned against the basket support and stared at Wang Yi in disbelief.
A trace of fear even flashed across his eyes.
It vanished in an instant, but no one knew how shocked—and even frightened—he was inside.
After all, King Arthur was even stronger than James at the peak of his career.
You could call him an upgraded version of James.
He'd thrown down more than his share of power dunks over the years.
His record was dunking over three players at once and sending all three crashing to the floor.
Many players he'd dunked on had been terrified of the sheer force he brought to the rim.
Plenty of commentators and fans had also loved to talk about that force.
But Wang Yi's dunk just now had shown him what real power looked like.
Put simply, no matter how powerful his own dunks were, they were still just dunks.
Wang Yi's dunk, on the other hand, had made him feel as if he were standing before a mountain that suddenly collapsed.
Thousands upon thousands of boulders came crashing down at him.
Other players dunked. Wang Yi brought down mountains and shook the earth.
They weren't even in the same league.
Xu Jingyu was pounding the table and screaming like crazy.
"Holy crap, Brother Yi! Aaaah—!"
"Aaah—!"
"He dunked over two guys! He slammed it down with brutal force! Aaaah—!"
"Aaah—!"
The guy was on another one of his whale-like rants.
He kept going until his face was red, his neck bulged, and his lips turned pale.
The American commentator beside him turned to stare at Whale in astonishment. A moment later, he muttered to his colleague:
"Who said Chinese commentators weren't passionate?"
The camera now cut to Phil Jackson, the Zen