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... of assassins had failed.
The aura of the second wave of assassins—his two disciples, both sword masters—had also vanished.
So there really was someone backing them from behind.
The old man in the green robe curled his lips slightly. Everything was under control.
That hidden figure had already been located by his divine sense.
The old man picked up a cup of tea and took a light sip.
Years of cultivation, all in pursuit of one word: “stability.”
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