"God Lin, think of something quickly?"
A thirty-something-year-old examiner named Zhou Chao shouted at Lin Baici. This time, he was the one being targeted.
The Goddess statue's eyes were indifferent, scornful, and radiated a regal aura that suggested, except for herself, all beings are mere ants.
"Quick, find some offerings to present to it!"
Zhang Hao urged.
"Where in the world are we supposed to find any offerings here?"
Zhou Chao, drenched in sweat from panic, suddenly had a brainwave and lifted the long knife in his hand.
"I offer this to you!"
After saying this, Zhou Chao even knocked his head on the ground in a bow.
The Goddess statue clearly wasn't satisfied, as Zhou Chao's body began to turn to clay.
He panicked, but to no avail; in less than a minute, he had turned into a clay statue, his face still vividly portraying his terror and panic.