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... pened, Wang Chen groaned softly. Both hands rose to his temples, fingers pressing in slow, deliberate circles as if he could knead the pain out by force alone. The ache from earlier still lingered—dull, stubborn, and deeply rooted—refusing to dissipate no matter how much he willed it to fade.
The fact that he was still sane after wringing out the very last drop of his soul blood was, frankly, absurd.
If it were anyone else, their mind would have shattered long ago. Madness would ...
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