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... a bone-deep warmth.
Sakura Miori opened her eyes and saw black streams of energy twining around Beichuan Si’s fingers, burrowing into her bruised and distorted calf.
Under her gaze, filled with utter astonishment, her calf slowly returned to its original shape.
Had it not been for the black sawdust still clinging to it, Sakura Miori might have thought the injury was just an illusion.
How did he do that?
What’s happening?
Who have I encountered? ...
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