Every point of the deficit weighed like a small mountain on the Hainan players' hearts, making even breathing feel heavy.
Hainan was now in a precarious position. Whether in the score or the team's morale, they were at an overwhelming disadvantage.
Sannoh's slaughter continued, and every second threatened to widen the gap further.
If Hainan could not quickly find a way to break through Sannoh's offense and defense and get their players' minds and form back on track, this game would likely be over long before the final whistle.
The sound of the basketball striking the floor echoed across the court in an urgent rhythm, occasionally mixed with the squeak of sneakers, as though accompanying this tense contest.
Earlier, as they watched Sannoh crush Hainan, many spectators on the sidelines had whispered among themselves, believing Hainan might never recover.
But the opposite was true. Hainan's players had not been broken at all. Instead, every setback only made them fight harder.
Every run and every defensive play carried the stubborn resilience of a team that refused to give up.
Their eyes shone with unwavering conviction as they clung desperately to the score, refusing to let go.
Only when the deficit reached twenty-eight points did the situation on the court finally change.
Maki Shinichi bent low, shielding the ball as he advanced step by step into Sannoh's half.
Sannoh's point guard stayed tight on him, maintaining a distance of about half a meter.
The Sannoh point guard held his left hand slightly raised, feinting with his fingertips toward Maki Shinichi's passing lanes, ready to steal the ball at any moment.
His right hand guarded his front, his knees slightly bent and his body taut, ready to cut Maki Shinichi off the instant he drove.
More troubling still, another of Sannoh's backup guards