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... ate of illusory beside him with a complicated expression.
"Should I praise you for being a genius?"
"How did you manage to use your broken talent to play so many tricks?"
"Let's do it." Scar Dog was obviously still not recovered, wiped the cold sweat on his forehead, and his throat was slightly dry: "There is no talent for garbage, only garbage people."
Just now, in the air, he didn't know how much air-conditioning he poured into it.
At this time, the throat wa ...
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