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... ound, inside the cave.
Biaozi was holding a gun, watching the group of slaves working as he patrolled back and forth, not daring to slack off. With more slaves now, it wasn’t like before; any slightest mistake would mean dereliction of duty for him.
He wasn’t worried about the slaves successfully revolting.
After all, there was Master Mang.
But suppressing a rebellion always meant some slaves would die, and he, as the head thug, might end up bearing the blame.
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