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He was exactly forty years old this year. As the captain of the farm under Master Liszt’s name, his talent in cultivation was only average and he had not yet reached Bronze-tier. All he did in the farm was catch thieves and maintain order. He never did anything too overly meritorious and could not even save up a single gold coin a year.


At that moment, Wesley looked at the eggs on the plate and gulped. He felt that a bright future was right in front of him ...

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