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... the crack of the door, bypassing Zheng Qing, and hovered less than a foot away from Zhang Ji Xin, wriggling slowly. A gold bean was stuck to the tentacle.

If it weren’t for that gold bean, the already-raised palm of Zhang Ji Xin would undoubtedly have crushed the wriggling tentacle into pulp.

"The gold is returned to you," said the blurred face behind the door, its murky voice reverberating, "Leave here, leave this house, leave this mountain... The gold is returned to you."

< ...

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