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... s of his life was spent as a killer and his heart had long gone cold. Not to mention smiling, even expressions such as anger, sadness or surprise would never appear on his face. But, he suddenly smiled. He looked at the insufferably arrogant Wushuang, a long sword in his hand and twelve flying swords floating beside him, and couldn't help releasing a soft chuckle. He even murmured softly, "Good boy."

Wushuang faced Luo Qingyang and raised his eyebrows. "Mister Luo, how about it?"

...

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