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... ang glanced at Zhao Ritian at random, and said casually while lying on the rocking chair, "You buy such a garbage item, don't you waste the blood sacrifice?"
On the other hand, Zhao Ritian, who was squatting on the ground, glanced up and pointed his shotgun at his scar dog from beginning to end. He hesitated before speaking.
"Brother Jiang, my personal talent really needs a sticky flamethrower."
"If you can, I hope Brother Jiang, you will sell me your phlegm-stirring guns fo ...
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