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Marchioness Moti’s heart gave a jerk. She was a Chaotic Saint, yet she shuddered under the gaze. It was unlike the dull look in the puppet’s eyes in the past; at that very moment, she thought she saw death.


Whitey’s eyes were cold and merciless. At this moment, it was as if it was no longer an emotionless puppet, but a fierce man filled with monstrous killing intent.


A clanging sound rang continuously. Marchioness Moti’s slash had put the strength of a Chaotic Sai ...

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