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... nd the garden was green, fat, red and thin, very fresh.

Pointing to the withered peony under the bar, Mrs. Jiang Tai smiled and said: "Unfortunately, no one in the family wears it, and no one rewards it, it would be better if it was given to Mrs. Shen, At least I can make flower dew and eat it."

A Su and other personal servants and maids laughed, "You are doing such a small family language again."

Mrs. Tai suddenly stopped, "Go to the warehouse to find the guy I used to use ...

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In the world of war games

Red Comet: “Amuro Ray, what kind of ability is it to bully recruits, come out and face me if you have the ability!”

Lin Youde shook his head: “What you’re looking for is Amuro Lei, what does it have to do with me, Li Abao?”

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Lin Youde looked at the steel giant in Gnaku and couldn’t help sighing.

“Gundam is so handsome~!”

Correspondent: “Dr. Lin Youde, I have your sortie order.”

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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”