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... een any information, it was probably deleted, but the detective still wanted to come over and take a look.

Xu Shuo leaned against the doorframe, watching him fiddle, without stopping him.

Apart from the slight inconvenience of poisoning the dish with his own identity, the chef really was quite decisive—his phone was so clean that after dialing a few contacts, they all turned out to be disconnected numbers.

Perhaps this was because the chef never intended to leave himself ...

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