"What's your name?"
Lin Bei frowned and thought carefully.
After thinking for a long time, he could not decide on the name of the mysterious cloak.
He was a lousy naming expert himself. It was fine for him to fight. He was very good at it, but naming… it was really difficult for him.
"I can't just call him the Mysterious Cloak, right? I feel that it's inferior to the Golden Cloak."
Lin Bei was troubled. He looked at the ever-changing cloak in front of him and suddenly had an idea. "Why don't we call it the Thousand Transformations Cloak or the Myriad Transformations Cloak?"
With a crash, the mysterious cloak, which had been constantly changing its form, seemed to have sensed Lin Bei's thoughts. It suddenly turned into a big metal lump and fell to the ground with a clang, as if it was silently protesting: I don't want this name!
"You don't like that name?"
With a splash, the iron block turned into a text.
