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... he world-destroying hand in the artistic conception has become a nightmare, lingering, and even when looking up at the starry sky, there will always be an illusion of doomsday.

"What are you looking at?" The old turtle came up.

"Nothing." Zhao Yun closed his eyes subconsciously.

"Where did you go?" the old turtle asked curiously.

"Entered an artistic conception." Zhao Yun rubbed his eyebrows vigorously.

"I thought you were lost." The old turtle took a sip of hi ...

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