"That was insane!"
"I thought he was going for a power dunk, but it was actually a self-toss self-dunk!"
"A self-toss self-dunk, followed by a dunk over Wemby!"
"Damn, I don't think I've seen a move like that in years!"
"Is there anything Brother Yi can't do?"
The commentators at the game were equally stunned:
"Oh my God, look at this!"
"I dare say that if it had been any other dunker—even Michael Jordan in his prime—he wouldn't have been able to finish the dunk after Wemby blocked his first attempt."
"But even after Wang Yi ran into that kind of defense, he still found a way. On the spur of the moment, he changed the dunk into a bank shot, then tossed the ball to himself and dunked over Wemby."
"Oh my God, that dunk was so imaginative and creative!"
Meanwhile, Wemby, who had been knocked off balance by Wang Yi's dunk beneath the basket, struggled to stand upright.
When he lifted his head again, his coach could see that same despair in his eyes, that same look of defeat.
The coach immediately began to worry.
Had Wemby just gotten his confidence back, only to be scarred again?
At that moment, Wang Yi faced the baseline camera, clenched his right fist, and slapped his left hand against his biceps.
Then he let out a roar like a lion:
"Ahhh!"
He vented his emotions without holding anything back.
Tonight, he was wearing a microphone.
His roar boomed through the arena speakers and into the ears—and hearts—of every fan and staff member in the building, sending a shock through them.
Only now did they feel Wang Yi's unparalleled King's Aura.
Only now did they take another serious look at Wang Yi.
Until then, they had thought of him as a 38-year-old