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... Long's prehistoric throat.

Not a warning.

Not a threat.

But a chuckle.

Low.

Raspy.

It sounded like he was brimming with amusement.

His scaled body stepped fully into the moonlight.

The cultivators lay sprawled across the ground, their limbs twitching, their bodies shivering under the invisible grip of his Bio-engineered Mortal Toxic Scales (Peak).

They could still move, but barely.

They could still think, but their m ...

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