PREVIEW
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Slums.
Within the cellar.
Whoosh… inhale…
Fearsome waves of air slapped back and forth against the walls, rippling outwards… as if to form sweeping currents of wind.
Fang Xi was bare-chested, his chest rising and falling like a bellows.
With each breath he took, his qi and blood seemed to strengthen by a notch, and the muscles throughout his body became elastic like rubber.
“The principle of the Iron Shirt Skill is ...
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