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... is sleeves voluntarily.
"Draw my blood!"
But at this moment, a potbellied middle-aged man stopped him, whispering:
"Ahem, Xiao Wu, he’s already given us food, and if we don’t give him blood, I suppose he can’t do anything about it, right? It’s not that we’re untrustworthy, it’s just, who knows why he wants our blood? What if it’s for some cult..."
His words made others a bit worried too. It’s the apocalypse, and cults are particularly rampant. They weren’t concern ...
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