When a firework blooms in the sky, a person dies on the ground.
The disciples' panicked shouts followed the trajectory of the fireworks, but they were always one step slower and could only greet in vain the bodies of their companions lying on the ground, with their heads and faces covered in ashes from the fireworks.
But Jared was not angry. The death of a few disciples was not a big deal to him.
He missed his brother terribly after not seeing him for several months.
The wind was strong tonight, making the sea tide surge, and the whimpering sound was like the indistinct cry of ghosts. Fireworks splashed snow, struggling to push away the clouds, revealing a cold moon like cast iron.
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