He was a sicko.
The corners of Bazhun'an's mouth twitched as he turned around and left.
"Hey, stop, don't go!"
"Say something. Say something, and I'll answer you. There's no charge, and you don't need to join our Divine Sect..."
The Divine Sorcerer looked at the backs of the two people as they left, and his eyes were filled with resentment.
The commotion that took place quickly attracted the attention of the passers-by nearby. One by one, they looked back and recalled something after they compared memories.
"F*ck, a Storyteller, and such a high-quality imitation."
"F*ck! Bazhun'an! He had a certain depressed manner about him. When you think about it... It looks like him!"
The fatigued Divine Sorcerer who was still preaching was unwilling to give up. He shouted at the backs of the two people,
"Don't say that. You can talk about something else. I'm very liberal as long as it's cool."