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... p> A hoarse voice rang out. Everyone looked over to see a ball of blood mist churning where the Imperial City of Dashang had been, with Shang Zhou’s voice sounding from within.

However, compared to before, this voice was far too weak. Although he could be reborn, after taking a strike from an imperial weapon, his whole body was grievously wounded, his strength plummeting to an extreme low.

At this moment, not to mention a Saint Realm powerhouse, even if several Quasi-Saint Realm ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

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