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... es with a crisp sound. Casio’s gaze was gloomy and cold as he scanned the surroundings.
His eyes briefly lingered in several places before slowly retracting.
On the ground, the pale corpses of robust figures lay fallen, the black devil totem on their bodies dimmed. In the bushes, a Disciple of Puppet School maintained a dynamic boxing pose, standing dead like a sculpture. His face was twisted with madness and a grim smile, showing no hint of cowardice or fear. It vividly displaye ...
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