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... re were footsteps all around, very chaotic.
It sounded like someone was trying to hide their tracks, but the noise was not hidden at all.
It was akin to tiptoeing with big leaps.
Old Mand’s face changed slightly, and he glared at Loves White Silk, “Ronin’s men?”
It was no wonder he was quick to determine it.
Because he could think of no other possibility for the exposure.
He should have understood earlier, the ugly man before him was no fool; he fe ...
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