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...

At this moment.

Africa.

South Africa.

Within the tribe.

Wei Song lay half-dead with his hands tied behind his back, fastened to a post in a thatched hut. His legs were wrapped in bleeding gauze, and his body bore multiple wounds. He hung his head, his feet barely touching the ground, all in a state of utter listlessness.

His chest rose and fell weakly.

Indicating he was still alive.

Anyone.

Already shot.

An ...

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