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... overed my right arm, and small thorns pricked as they grew on the tentacles, which resembled the thorns of a rose.

"Huh?" I exclaimed in disbelief, as white smoke rose from the gaps between the tentacles.

'My arm is turning cold? It's not transforming, what's going on? Devil's shotgun or what not, this shouldn't be happening?" half thought, half mumbled and glared at the shotgun.

"You dare prick on your master?" I released my mana pressure and focused on my right arm.

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