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... e small half of the cigar in his hand. He moved, and a faint flame spurted out from under his feet, and he began to climb up quickly.

 The man with gray eyes and a cold face followed almost at the same time.

The route the two took to the air was not straight, but kept changing directions.

His eyes are always fixed on a void not far ahead, as if the route is completely determined by some invisible object.

 “It looks like Roja is coming out.”

                  ...

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