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... a vast carpet under the pure white sunlight.

A young man in a white shirt and black suit walked forward, his gaze sweeping over the destroyed convoy until it finally landed on Cassius. There was a faint smile on his face, and from a distance, he radiated the noble aura of a young master.

Crack.

His leather shoe stepped on a scorched, severed hand, crushing the bones underfoot. It was unclear if the hand belonged to a member of the Gate organization.

Clap, clap, cl ...

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