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... hang Xiaohong.”
Inside the interrogation room, under the flickering dim oil lamp that cast a gloomy and dark atmosphere, Fang Qingyun stood with arms crossed, smirking at the newly captured suspect, while Constable Wei stared into Yizhang Hong’s eyes, throwing one question after another. A junior constable was rapidly jotting down the interrogation content on a table beside them.
“Gender?”
“Male.”
“Cultivation level?”
“Peak Late Foundation Establishment st ...
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