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Chapter 1840: Farmer’s Three Strikes
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... ere all the old monk’s silhouettes, blotting the space as they fled in all directions. It was impossible to tell which one was the real Dukong.
Almost no one present had expected that the old monk still had the power to struggle after being tightly suppressed on the ground like that.
However, the farmer had.
“Isn’t this the Myriad Apparition Art passed down by Earth Treasury Buddha? But you seem to have only scratched its surface, Fellow Daoist.”
Saying that, the ...
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