Goba Fu had not grown more temperamental; he simply felt that this was how the foolish Human Race communicated.
Previously, he had needed to keep himself hidden, but as he watched the God Race steadily erode Xingzheng Star, he felt there was no need to restrain himself anymore. It was time to let loose a little—whatever dissatisfaction you had, you would be ruled by our God Race eventually.
The places where he worshipped the Insect God were extremely crude: corners by walls, beneath trees, even blind spots outside public restrooms. Anywhere the cameras could not see would do.
Worshipping the Insect God did not necessarily require an idol—strictly speaking, one should have been required. But he was not a pure-blooded member of the God Race; he had answered the call of divine grace and been assimilated. Considering that their identities made things inconvenient, the God Race had specially permitted them to act according to circumstances.
That was, of course, an immense blessing!
The Insect God he worshipped was merely a one-inch photograph, suitable for placing anywhere.
Photographs were an extremely ancient thing. Everyone used electronic versions nowadays; who still used photos?
Of course, some people would materialize electronic images into physical objects and three-dimensional realistic displays. Usually, that was done to record special moments—such as weddings, childbirth, or... sharing the frame with someone important!
In any case, the props he used to worship the Insect God Cult were very small, and incense was not always necessary. Burning incense was naturally best, but the Insect God understood the difficulties faced by races trying to assimilate and allowed them to act according to circumstances.
Yet this time, just as he took out the Insect God's portrait and placed it in the bushes, he heard a soft laugh behind him. "So the Incense