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... ultaneously reached for the sky, attempting to grab hold of Hua Menghuang's ankles and pull her down.
It was clearly just a shout, but from Xiao Yuan came three different tones.
On the left, hysterical. In the middle, cold as frost. On the right, a voice like breaking pottery.
The three tones intermingled, highly contradictory, causing Shang Yaoqin, who was standing atop the Wind Dragon, to furrow her brows involuntarily.
"Damnable bastard, it's true that all disc ...
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