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... g about, let alone how it related to attacking them.
But they understood one thing: for whatever reason, this damned trialist seemed determined to oppose them.
"Trialist, do you intend to rebel against us together with that traitor?" asked the golden-armored man whom Zhang Menglong had wounded. Covering his stomach, he stood up—although heavily injured, he was not yet dead.
"Traitor or not, I don't care. Either give me back my tomato pot, or apologize and compensate me!" ...
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