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She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. “Stop! Don’t put your face there. "I will administer it.
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This video was uploaded to sivasspor.biz on 02-06-2024 01:18:07
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