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“Is there anything I don’t know?”

“Bah. You are pretending to be handsome.”

Park Muyeol smiled at me. Then he held the wooden stick in one hand and slowly closed his eyes. A golden aura wove around his body. Park Muyeol started recalling old memories. They weren’t his memories. They were the old myths and legends from Hercules’ memories. The golden aura around his body scattered like smoke and started to take a shape.

‘...What trial will be reproduced?’

I wat ...

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