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When I was 15-years-old, during the year that I graduated from middle school, my father told me this.
“The Devil’s blood runs in our family.”
That was the truth. Sadly my father was the owner of a takeaway chicken shop with the talent of turning his eyes blue, and I was the son of the takeaway shop who just happened to be slightly stronger than others.
But five years later.
They came for me.
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Stay informed of NEWEST chapters of Dungeon Maker with notification directly sent to your email.