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... ing against the cold floor of the living room, with his back resting on the large floor-to-ceiling glass.

Cold sweat soaked the strands of hair on his forehead, dripping continuously down his sharp jawline.

Fang Qingyu gasped heavily, each breath pulling at the mingled icy and fiery, tearing pain in his chest and abdomen.

Looking down.

The horrifying dark red and ghostly blue cracks beneath his skin had dimmed significantly but were still clearly visible, like a c ...

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