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Eighteen hundred miles away.
There happened to be a natural magnetic field that could obstruct the probing of external perceptual powers.
The mist, ubiquitous in the mountain cliffs, resembled dormant fierce beasts, with the twilight’s glow seeping through the vapors, revealing and concealing the view within.
A figure sat at the edge of the cliff, holding an exceedingly ordinary bamboo fishing rod.
At the tip of the rod, a silver quadr ...
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