Sir, do you want to be a God?I stared blankly at the middle-aged man in front of me who seemed to be buying insurance. He was 170-year-old with the beer belly of a mature man, wearing a dark suit, and a face with a national font looks very mature and steady, but why do you say so inappropriately?Sir, do you want to be a God?It seemed that I didn't respond. The national face still said this again without emotion, standing in front of me, staring at me blankly.