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Chapter 137 Repression
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... ushed over in one step. The silver flame in front of his forehead was flying out. It was the purest spiritual power, burning the golden weasel that was half a foot long.
It screamed and fled to the ancestors of Panshan, slamming into his head.
boom!
Chu Feng followed up, and a fist hit, the Panshan ancestors who had a headache to break up, flying all over, covered with cracks, blood spilled, almost disintegrated.
Panshan's ancestors suffered from mental reversal, and ...
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