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Zhao Wou-ki's face twitched.
Subconsciously looking at Luo Yu, a look of fear flashed across his eyes.
Luo Yu's punch had already left a deep psychological shadow on him. If he ran slower that day, he would have to lie in bed for at least ten days and a half months.
Zhao Wuji felt that someone who could fight at the same level as Luo Yu was never born.
He has never seen in his life that the soul king can blow up the soul saint, and Luo Yu did it.
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