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Chapter 12: Catastrophe (1)
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... at had grazed me earlier.
Each time my muscles contracted or relaxed, the wound flaunted its presence.
It felt as if a hot iron plate was pressed against my body.
My body screamed in agony, yet it moved more agilely. Thus, I cherished my pain.
I spurred myself on.
Faster, even if just slightly. Sharper, even if just slightly.
Ignoring the pain, I moved.
It seemed as though blood was oozing from the open wound.
It was hot blood.
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