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... e would be helpful for him. Seven Fells were insufficient to start anything.


While the morning sun was shining on the market, Lucien was already carrying a heavy bag of goods towards the gate. No matter what great dreams a person got, survival always ranked first.


Beads of sweat poured down from his face. His linen clothes were all wet. What’s worse, the fat guy called Gutche kept nagging from the side:


“Damn… A child? Watch out! Don’t ruin my stuff!” He wiped his f ...

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