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... derworld—kuang~~!

The black meat table—huh~~~There is always something slaughtered and slaughtered on it~~, what drips down is not blood—but the black~~~ sticky thing. It's like - that ~~~ uh - choking smell on that rag.

Walk in—the door blows open~~, look over—on the meat table, lift the rag—pale eyes—

Well—~~~~~~!

Riza suddenly opened his eyes—the pale sky, everything pale.

Waking up from a dream. This night is always that ghost place, that broken door, that ...

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