After preparing herself to fight a powerful enemy, all tensed up, Lin Sanjiu started to feel a little foolish. Her gaze shifted between the dimwit and the old duoluozhong a few times. Finally, she straightened her posture and exchanged a look with the grand prize. They were at a loss.
"Deun... What sort is he?" Ji Shanqing asked cautiously while he peeked from behind Lin Sanjiu.
"There are trashy people, naturally there are trashy gods. It's the name that the other gods gave him," the old duoluozhong's voice came from the entrance. It tossed a glance at the dimwit and suddenly hissed, "Why did you reveal yourself so early? We almost gained their trust."
It changed.
Even though the duoluozhong still looked like a greenish-black skin sack, the image he sculpted (that of an old man single-handedly raising up a large child) had completely fallen apart. Right now, it was observing them from the shadow with one of its insect-like eyes sticking out from its layers of skin.
