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Self-cutting meridians?
Damn, what kind of suicide artifact is this?
Xu Shu looked at the Tai Chu Scroll prop bag, the thing that looked like a mineral water bottle, and cursed under his breath for such ill fortune.
These past couple of days had truly been vomit-inducing.
He had finally leveled up to 6, hoping to go out and flex his muscles and hunt more monsters, level up even more.
But that very night, Narrow Sleeve Guanyin had paid him ...
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