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... Jiang Yu aimed the gun at herself, the Gypsy witch truly felt the advent of death.
Her eyes widened as she saw the red gleam spouting from the muzzle, and her mind was instantly crowded with numerous images—the red-haired girl in the dilapidated wizard’s tower fiddling with Tarot Cards, the old man behind the curtain bleeding from his seven orifices from a divination backlash, supplicating at the feet of the Moon God in a communion with another realm, the lips that gently touched the wa ...
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