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... m was made by him. Feeling both wronged and inferior, he tightly pressed his lips together. He kept wiping away the bloody liquid that fell onto her face.
Baring his blood-stained fangs as he spoke in a voice so low and hoarse that it was terrifying, “… Am I ugly?” He softly asked that question under the slowly darkening snowy sky.
Because of the fiend energy, there were dense cracks all over his face and the color of his tail was ...
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