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... gh the guardrail and slid down off the road shoulder. In the end, it lay upside down in the dark mud, like a turtle on its back.
Wei Tianyang’s back was firmly pressed against the seat back. In the brief ten or so seconds, he was reminded of the encounter when he retrieved the gun from Starbucks. This time, however, he didn’t fly out, but the shattered car window carved a large gash on his left arm, blood gushed out like a fountain.
He clenched his right fist and punched, sending ...
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