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... took his seat slowly, for a player who had passed through the labyrinth, this degree of injury was minor.
He picked up the napkin on the table, neatly folded it, and gently pressed it on the wound.
A blood rose seemed to burst forth on his chest.
The dining table was silent.
Everyone was watching him.
From being attacked, stabbed in the chest, to Carl being assaulted, the bald assailant was taken away… throughout all the incidents, Willard’s emotion showe ...
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