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Chapter 1222 - : The Cycle of Life
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... ight beside the grassland, there was a crystal clear brook slowly flowing down from the mountain. The pebbles in the brook sparkled like gems under the sunlight.
A black ant was washed down from the mountain by a stream. It was struggling desperately in the stream. To the tiny ant, this slow stream was like a rushing river, sweeping up the ant that had fallen into it. It was like sweeping up an insignificant speck of dust, rushing towards an unknown and terrifying fate.
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