Ghosts and gods do not enter the door

The clown's squinting eyes swept down the stage.

At that moment, Ding Mu felt as if his skin had been scraped by a knife.

That kind of eyes that were so vicious that they almost dripped poison gave him goosebumps all over his body in an instant.

Guan Yi chuckled lightly, and said contemptuously, "Who did I think it was? It turned out to be him."

Ding Mu felt that although the words were in Chinese, and the words were well-spoken and deep, he couldn't understand a single word.

The atmosphere in the audience was very stiff. The hotel staff, who could sit comfortably in their seats and even wanted to watch a joke, suddenly felt cold all over their bodies, their hearts tightened, and cold sweat broke out.

"Your survival rate should be very high this time." Guan Yi said to Ding Mu, "If no one dies."

If you don't work here, you may not die, but if you die, you will definitely die.

"Take your cock crowing eye spot well," Guan Yi continued, "It can make you see different things, and it works."

Ten dollars for eye spots and nine dollars for fakes, and only half for change. With Ding Mu's eyes, how many people must be staring at him.

Guan Yi was once again glad that he had come this trip.

"Let me see, who in the audience is willing to come up and perform?" The clown smiled, as if he was not facing a group of audience with bitter smiles, but a group of screaming and crazy fans.

No one raised a hand or even spoke.

The clown doesn't look embarrassed at all.

He smiled and said: "This is the first time I have seen such a situation. The audience is watching the performance wholeheartedly. They are afraid of mistakes and omissions and do not want to go on stage. Thank you for your support, thank you."

After the silence, there were sparse applause.

Everyone thought in their hearts: Don't choose me.

Even if this thought brings death to others.

When disaster strikes, who cares about those things.

Ding Mu felt that the way the clown looked at him was like being pricked by needles, which made him feel cold all over.

But the clown seemed to be afraid of something, he just glanced at him and then averted his gaze.Ding Mu thought that Guan Yi's deterrent effect had worked, and he was suddenly grateful.

The clown took off his hat, bowed to everyone present, and then fumbled in the hat.

With that red nose, there is a feeling of Doraemon.

But this Doraemon can kill people.

His expression changes are exaggerated, and when he smiles, he will try his best to pull up the facial muscles, like a hideous slit across his cheek.

He walked up and down the stage, from one end to the other, pretending that he couldn't touch anything while walking, shaking his hat, and taking it out again.

"Ah! I got it!" The clown yelled, his fat body jumped on the ground violently, shaking the stage with a loud "Boom!"

"Look! I found a silver jug!" The clown bowed deeply, "Now, please enjoy the magic, magic pot."

Ding Mu, who has watched the Spring Festival Gala, is a bit magical.

The clown took out a piece of paper from his baggy trousers pocket, about the size of an A4, densely written on it.

The clown looked at the words on it, found one casually, and said, "The audience in the eighth seat in the fourth row, I am looking forward to your assistance."

Everyone's eyes locked on there at the same time. When the people sitting there realized that he was called to come on stage, they felt as if they had been hit by a sledgehammer in the face. Their faces were pale and they trembled a little when they walked.

That person was a hotel staff member who usually worked at the front desk. Before he had time to change his uniform, he was caught off guard by the clown who issued a death notice.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and watched him tremblingly onto the stage in sympathy.

"Hi sir, what's your name?" The clown handed him the microphone.

"I, my name is Han Xu." Han Xu's voice trembled, and he really couldn't figure out why he was sitting down two days ago, watching the performance while trembling with fear, and now he became the one being watched.

He thought he could live longer—at least not facing death now.

Everyone in the hotel didn't know that being selected by the clown as a performance assistant was equivalent to lying in a coffin, and the clown was sent to complete the last step for him at night to close the coffin boards.

"Please take a look at what's wrong with this jug." The clown handed him the jug, and then let him check with the microphone.

With trembling hands, Han Xu dropped the pot tremblingly, and the iron ring on the pot hit the body of the pot with a clatter.

"No, no problem." Han Xu returned the pot to the clown.

"Okay, please take a look." The clown raised the pot so that everyone could see it clearly.

The body of the pot is smooth and shiny, the handle is slender and exquisite, and the whole pot can be wrapped in the palm of an adult man, which is exquisite and lovely.

"As you can see, there is nothing wrong with this pot." The clown shook the pot vigorously, but nothing was poured out, and there was no sound of water rushing.

Standing there, Han Xu looked at the figure of the clown pacing up and down on the stage, feeling a little drowsy in addition to fear. This menacing drowsiness even drove most of his fear away.

The focus of everyone's attention was naturally not on Hu. After temporarily threatening their lives, they began to look at the bewildered Han Xu on the stage with impunity.

They were surprised to find that apart from showing fear at the beginning, this person stood on the stage in a daze as if nothing had happened, not even moving.

The young man's mental quality is quite high.