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... , Old Militia Chiwaco looked troubled, reaching into his waistband over and over. After a while, he finally pulled out a withered red chili, sniffed it at the tip of his nose, and asked bitterly.
"Old Woody, when... do we set off?"
"The orders are urgent. We'll leave at the beginning of next month!"
"Ah! Next month? I wanted to make a trip back to the Capital Region to say goodbye to my daughter and granddaughter..."
The old militia sighed again. Last year, his da ...
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