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The young person had black hair and a black robe. A silver mask covered most of his face, but no one doubted the exquisiteness of his face under the mask. His dark eyes flowed with light, carrying a cunningness that made people go crazy. He glanced indifferently at the black dust flying in the air and clicked his tongue as he sighed, as if he was sighing at Zhi Ming’s death. A powerhouse of a generation had fallen just like that. His reputation would probably not last forever.
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