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... at her hammock had actually collapsed, it wasn’t even an exaggeration. I twitched reflexively, turned into a makeshift bed, and the regressor groaned with a frown.
"Mmnn..."
My first thought was: I’m screwed. That was the only one. This emotional, irrational regressor wouldn’t hesitate a second to kill me, even though she’s the one who crawled in here in the first place.
The one that visits you at night is supposed to be a fairy, not a lunatic who chops off people’s arms ...
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