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... osed the window.
The room was pitch-dark, with only a faint moon frost reflecting the white light on the blade, a middle-aged man lay flat on the bed, with an open suitcase beside the bed, Gilas glanced coldly, "A maritime businessman , it's because of your bad luck that you happened to stay in this hotel."
The five fingers gently pressed against the man's mouth and nose, the blade pierced the carotid artery diagonally, the hook-shaped serrations on the blade tore the throat muscle ...
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