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... his arm with warmth.

He felt as if he were in a warm spring. His body and mind seemed to have been cleansed.

Logically speaking, Pierce was only sharing the vision and not the sensation, so he should not be able to feel what this skeleton was feeling. However, just by looking at it, he felt his warmth.

This was beyond its imagination. This power was stronger than he had imagined. He could feel Death God’s godhood trembling in his mind as if it was afraid of being cleanse ...

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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.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

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.

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