Chapter 1797 Spider Traces of Poisoning

Written on a Rainy Night 920 words

"Promise a fart, Lao Tzu is busy, get away, or don't blame Lao Tzu for being polite."

The soldier wanted to say something more, but now the depression was so urgent that he interrupted him on the spot.

Here...

In an instant, the soldier swallowed back what...

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