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... th, was standing in the yard. At this moment, there was a small wooden statue of a man who punched out above the firewood.
He couldn’t see his face clearly, but he could sense the other party’s fist intent.
It felt mighty and extraordinary.
Qing Mu clasped his hands together in prayer.
He had been worshipping the Fist God for more than ten years.
.
At this moment, his hands were wrapped in pitch-black cloth, and his fists had a biting c ...
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