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... ou!"

Huaikong pinched the silver needle, crushing it into a ball, his face twitching with anger.

He never expected that what Ren Chunping said was true, that Yang Zongxian, the highly respected Divine Doctor of Cangwu City, praised by everyone, was indeed such a petty man. Clearly, he couldn’t save Yu Mo, yet he acted pretentiously, wasting time.

Huaikong pulled out another one!

It was still the same; the part that entered the flesh was gone, and the silver needle ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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……………………………………………………………

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