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Mercenaries

Redakteur: CokeZero

Snow, as thick as a blanket, covered the desolated street.

Other than the worker removing snow, the only noise on the entire street was the freezing northern wind.

Oh, not quite. There was still one place that maintained the liveliness of spring.

People shouted, celebrated, unleashed their pressure, and spent away their dreary days.

This place was the Fake Leg Bar. Although they have only been open for less than one month, the high-quality alcohol garnered the hearts of all the survivors. In front of the bar counter, the muscular mercenary had a foot on the chair as he showed off his scars drunkenly. The barely covered lady walked among the dark corners of the bar to wait for the prey of the night. Gamblers put two tables together as they played poker and dices.

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