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... an unsteady, deep breath. "What are you? You are not a Magus! Who sent you here? Are you here to stop me?"

Vacuse frowned. "That’s a lot of questions."

He did not answer right away either; his hand went to his back and traced his scars while he kept his eyes on Lady Slave and her remaining stubbornness.

His fingers pried into the scars until they started to bleed and tear through the first layer. Then, one by one, he began to remove the needles he had stored in his flesh ...

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