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... eyes widened as he stared at the clay figures walking toward the kiln, believing there was still hope until the very last moment.

“Heh!”

Song Li chuckled softly, turning to look at Lin Baici, only to find his expression calm, not at all like a man facing death.

Something’s not right!

Why isn’t he scared?

Could it be that whoever’s clay figure moves,

that person dies?

Is that why he’s so confident?

Song Li thought of this possibility ...

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