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... yat! What kind of peeping tom?!”
Thinking that he might have been spied on ever since he logged into the game, Ivan Ivanov felt goosebumps all over his body and blurted out a curse.
He raised the gun and aimed at the space above the killer’s bleeding leg—
“Pah!”
It was a paintball.
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A bright green stain burst-open in the air, outlining a strange chest protector that seemed like a steel pla ...
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