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The hooded man rushed all the way to the shop where the black car lost control and crashed into it. Two blood-red arms stretched out from his clothes. His left hand was holding a ball of beating flesh, and his right hand was holding a strange-looking bone.
The hooded man slowly approached the car that was buried in shelves and cargo. He raised his hand to lift a shelf and looked toward the cab through the broken window.
There was nothing inside, not to mention people, not e ...
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