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... p> In the thick, blood-tinged fog, Ghir was facing off against a bizarre enemy.
Crack!
After catching a sword lunging at him from his blind spot with his bare hands, Ghir ripped out the enemy’s neck vertebrae and killed him instantly, then spoke toward the fog.
“Are you people... Dorharav?”
Swish!
A throwing knife came flying in instead of an answer.
Ghir caught it in mid air and frowned.
“When someone asks you a question, fucking answer.” ...
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