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... asure?"

The Taoist Stele remained silent like a mountain, showing no interest in responding.

Mo Hua pouted, "Stingy, looking down on people..."

But upon reflection, it made sense.

The Taoist Stele, so mysterious and elusive, seemed to contain a certain divine aura that even an Evil God feared; it must have a significant origin.

With such a notable origin, even if offered to be one’s own Magical Treasure, one would not dare to accept it.

One did not ...

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[Excerpt]

“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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