A Showdown Between Kings

The seabirds called out as waves crashed again and again.

The sky had gradually darkened, leaving only a streak of crimson in the west.

All 50 spectators around the court stared at the scene in astonishment.

For a long moment, not a soul spoke.

It was more than ten seconds before someone finally exclaimed, "He got a game-winning shot?!"

"Venice King got beaten at the buzzer?"

"This... this can't be possible."

The three scantily clad young women looked as if they'd just witnessed the most unbelievable thing in the world.

None of them spoke for a long while, especially the Red-haired Woman.

She looked at Wang Yi as if he were a monster.

Then she kept shaking her head.

No. No way.

How could Venice King get beaten at the buzzer?

Venice King was so strong. How could a man in his sixties beat him with a game-winning shot?

But the facts were right there before her eyes. She couldn't deny them.

Someone on the sidelines suddenly remembered something.

"Could this guy be Uncle Drew?"

Given what they'd just seen, the only explanation that made sense was that he was Uncle Drew.

The fans had all seen that movie, of course.

But it was only a movie.

In real life, what old man in his sixties or seventies could beat young guys?

This was some next-level fantasy.

And judging by this old man's skills, he was still nowhere near as good as Uncle Drew.

Whether it was dribbling past defenders or defense—sorry, he hadn't driven past anyone, and he hadn't played defense.

There was only one thing: he could shoot.

He was insanely accurate.

In the end, more than half of the fifty-odd spectators decided they couldn't possibly be professional players pretending to be Uncle Drew.

Only a small number