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... ound, looking ready to play dirty.
Before he could spit out another complaint, I leaned down, my hand clamping around his neck with a slight squeeze, smirking, “This is going all out.”
“No, no, no! I’m sorry, I was wrong!” The Green-Haired Boy croaked, shrieking despite my light grip. He clearly felt his life was in danger—after all, the [Arena] didn’t guarantee contestants’ safety!
I released him: “Still not surrendering?”
“I’ve got one last question. After I ask ...
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