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... the question.

Jaxon, hearing it, shook his head.

He was back to his usual self now.

Expressionless, indifferent, and composed.

However, a faint murderous intent lingered in his tone.

“They won’t pull the same stunt again.”

Jaxon’s voice, as he uttered those words, was like a shard of ice plucked from a glacier—cold and sharp. There was a quiet scorn in it, directed at those who had acted in his absence.

Of course, the cold, murderous smile ...

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