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...
At this moment.
Africa.
South Africa.
Within the tribe.
Wei Song lay half-dead with his hands tied behind his back, fastened to a post in a thatched hut. His legs were wrapped in bleeding gauze, and his body bore multiple wounds. He hung his head, his feet barely touching the ground, all in a state of utter listlessness.
His chest rose and fell weakly.
Indicating he was still alive.
Anyone.
Already shot.
An ...
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