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... a malevolent storm. His eyes glowed a deep, ominous red as he stared down at his fallen opponent. The blade in his hands, still wrapped in that blinding crimson light, pulsed rhythmically, as if resonating with his heartbeat.

Under numerous gazes, Tron walked towards Drune. His crimson eyes were slightly cold as he stared at the Drune, who was completely pale. This person truly had a bit of skill. If it wasn't for the fact that he had adaptive cells, it would have been difficult for him ...

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