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... nd, her arm slashed by broken glass, constantly oozing blood.
Flames engulfed the wooden furniture, automatic rifles, submachine guns, pistols, and the eerie, mysterious sounds of transcendental skills mixed at the door, intermittently accompanied by people’s wails and screams.
The man in the trench coat pried open the burning wooden door, stooped into the villa’s first-floor hall, his face pale and pupils shimmering with a ring of blue light, topped with a soft cap. Seeing Lucin ...
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