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Chapter 223: Tequila, Let Go of Vodka
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... targets have been sent to your email. Observe how they die.][Report to me afterward.]
A message suddenly lit up Vermouth's phone screen.
Her brows arched slightly.
So Rum still hasn't taken his eyes off Cointreau. Curious whether that 'accidental kill' was truly accidental, huh?What a suspicious man.
[OK.]She replied simply.
Vermouth, a seasoned intelligence operative, didn't serve directly under ...
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