Su Ming'an's expression was momentarily shaken, as if he thought of some leap-forward ideas, but soon he understood that Sique meant to use a pen to create more people.
"Mass production?" Su Ming'an asked.
"This quartet is lucky, they're the direct children of the creator, but most of the population can only be mass-produced." Sique spread his hands: "Cruel, but the reality is such. Anywhere, 95% of people are no different from the goblins by the roadside, only 5% are enjoying the world."
"You people of Dragon Country have the myth of Nuwa creating humans, but some people are the soil Nuwa personally touched, while others are just mud dots casually thrown."
Su Ming'an asked: "And what about you? What kind of soil are you made from?"
Sique was not modest: "I am Nuwa."
Su Ming'an: "..."
This bird is really unrestrained.
Su Ming'an raised his pen, and the moment he grasped the pen, twinkling glimmers surrounded his palm.
