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... ing cried out softly in pain, rubbing his nearly broken shinbone with one hand and groping the ground with the other. He felt that when he had just fallen, he seemed to have landed on something.
The parachute woven from magical vines transformed into strands of magic upon his landing, vanishing into the endless night of the Black Prison.
Soon, Zheng Qing realized that his previous feeling was not an illusion.
When he fell, he indeed landed on something.
And the co ...
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