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... misstepped move.
Perfect movement.
Perfect synchronization.
Tuk.
However, even if the sword didn’t falter, the human body was undergoing an inevitable change.
The sword wielder’s clothes were soaked in sweat. Every time they swung their sword, sweat beads began to form all over their body.
‘Six thousand seven hundred forty-nine!’
Woong!
The sword was swung again.
‘Six thousand seven hundred and fifty!’
Tuk.
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