(Open Sea, Approaching Southern Tanna — Higashihama Bay, 299 BC)
That night—a night of nights. No stars. No moon. Nothing but rumbling heavens and a sky fracturing into dark pavilions of violet cloud-columns touching the horizons. Lightning flashing in eerie purple veins, staining the sea with unnatural hues, as though the waters themselves had been bruised. The last watch of the night, and the rains of horror pouring down without mercy upon the ten ships pressing through unknown waters toward southern Tanna.
The wind howled like a living thing. Not merely strong—killer-caliber. It screamed through rigging and oarlocks, ripping breath from lungs, and hurling waves against the hulls like warring giants settling ancient grudges. The sea rose and fell in foaming walls, each advance met by twice the retreat. The ships were never meant for crossings such as this. Every pitch drew out the sound of protesting wood—creaks, groans, the long complaint of timbers begging not to split.
Men strained at the oars, tightening knots with numb fingers already blistered raw. Their jaws clenched as they massaged shoulders and biceps mid-stroke, refusing rest. Voices cut through the storm in disciplined rhythm.
“MOVE IT—KEEP ROWING!”
“Power ten!”
Across all ten vessels the call echoed, answered by a chorus of rowers.
“POWER TEN!”
Thunder crashed over their cry, the sky itself mocked their defiance.
On deck, men formed a living perimeter, bracing their bodies to keep women and children from being swept overboard. Nodding to one another—no words needed—while the women's hands clenched in prayers beneath their breath, fingers locked around amulets, around each other, around hope. Children cried into soaked sleeves, their sobs stolen by the wind.
A wave climbed higher than a grown man. The ship lurched at the wrong moment, and the crest slammed sideways into the hull. Salt spray exploded across the deck, stinging eyes, knocking breath from chests. Somewhere, a child screamed. Somewhere else, a man laughed—sharp and hysterical—then choked it back.
Ten nights at sea. Ten nights of this.
On one of the smaller vessels, a father clutched his young son to his chest, arms locked like iron.
“Father,” the boy asked, voice trembling but steady with effort, “will we survive?”
The man swallowed, rain streaming down his beard.
“We’ve weathered worse, lad,” he said, forcing calm into his tone. “The Good Lord watches over us. Just hold my hand—it will be all right.”
The boy nodded, eyes wide and glassy.
The sentence never finished.
A massive gust struck.
The mast screamed.
CRACK.
Splinters flew like knives. The broken mast began to fall, toward the clustered women and children below.
“DOWN!”
“GET BACK!”
“SAINTS PRESERVE US—!”
The ships pitched violently. Two vessels nearly rammed one another as waves pivoted their bows at murderous angles. The deck became a slick of rain and seawater. People slid, arms flailing, feet losing purchase. Panic spiked—raw, contagious.
Then three figures moved.
Toho, not yet sixteen, leapt forward without thought. He seized a thick rope still lashed to the falling mast and braced himself, boots skidding. Every muscle screamed as he hauled back, rope burning his forearm. He glanced once—just once—toward the cluster of women and children. Among them, Chika. Fear flickered across her face, then steel.
Determination hardened him.
“Together!” he roared, voice cutting through the chaos. “We don’t lose anyone tonight!”
Beside him, Sawai surged into motion—broad-shouldered, raw power coiled tight. As another wave struck, he read the sea like a tactician reads terrain.
“Like this—use the wave!” Toho yelled.
Sawai planted his feet and shoved with all his strength, pivoting the mast outward, letting the wave’s momentum carry it away from the deck. His core wobbled—strength exceeding balance—and he nearly slid himself into the rail, teeth bared in effort.
Meanwhile, Imei spotted an elderly man skidding helplessly toward the edge. With a dramatic lunge, he grabbed the man by the belt and collar, hauling him back with a grunt.
“Easy there, Grandpa!” Imei shouted, rain plastering his hair to his face. “Can’t have you swimming without your morning tea!”
A weak chuckle escaped the old man, absurd and precious.
The mast swung free at last, tearing loose with a final shriek and crashing into the sea in a violent splash. The deck shuddered—but held.
For a heartbeat, there was victory.
A cheer rose—ragged, brief, defiant—swallowed almost instantly by the storm. Releasing the rope, Toho steadied the others, hauling a woman upright, shoving a crate back into place. His gaze met hers again. Gratitude passed between them, unspoken, electric.
The wind shifted, just slightly. The ships stabilized enough for breath to return. Exiles huddled closer, bodies pressed together against the cold. The father found his son again, pulling him close, whispering thanks into the boy’s hair.
“Is everything all right, pal?” Toho asked Imei.
Imei flashed a grin despite the rain.
“Oki-doki,” he said, exaggerated and bright, making a few children laugh through their tears.
For a moment—just one—Toho went still.
The wind fell silent.
Not calm, but absent.
A chill crawled up his spine. The hairs on his arms rose. Something was approaching, something vast and wrong, as if the sea were drawing breath.
“—!” he shouted suddenly, startled by his own voice.
No one else felt it.
Sawai shot him a look. “Hoy, hero,” he called over the rain, “we don’t want to repeat what we just did.”
Imei nodded solemnly, then ruined it by stage-whispering, “Aye, my heart can only take so much bravery per watch,” earning another nervous laugh from the children.
Then it happened.
BAAAM.
A wall of wind struck the vessel—not a gust, but a solid force. The ship lurched violently sideways, ropes snapping taut, oars jerking from hands. In an instant, it was torn away from the formation, severed from the other nine ships like a limb ripped from a body.
Cries rose in alarm as the vessel spun, carried fast by an unseen current.
Ahead, through the eerie flash, jagged shapes emerged from me ruins.
They were being driven straight toward the Seal Rock Ruins of Higashihama—forgotten teeth of an older world, waiting beneath the aves.
“What in the world is that…?”
Sawai’s voice cut through the storm, sharp and incredulous, as the ship slid unnaturally between shadowed silhouettes rising from th Toho standing ona. Near the deck rail, rain stroke dhisho’s face, violet lightning flaring behind his eyes.
“They look like… houses,” he said slowly.
“Abandoned house?” Imei echoed, disbelief mixing with fear. “in rocks?”
The shapes were wrong—too rigid, too skeletal. As lightning split the sky again, the truth revealed itself in pieces: rotted hulls, broken prows, masts petrified by salt and time, frozen mid-collapse like corpses reaching out of the sea. Ship graveyards. Ancient ones.
Before another word could be spoken, the wind howled—not forward, but sideways.
Lanterns from the other ships flickered wildly, then vanished as violent waves and wind shear tore the formation apart. Signal cries were swallowed by thunder. Darkness reclaimed the sea.
“THE WAVES ARE FOAMING!!!” the lookout screamed.
Toho’s eyes locked ahead. Purple flares illuminated jagged rocks and splintered timbers jutting upward like the teeth of some colossal beast. Before the rowers could resynchronize—
SCRAAAAAPE.
Once.
SCRAAAAAPE.
Twice.
The hull shuddered. Wood screamed. Water surged through seams, thin fingers of death creeping across the deck.
Panic erupted.
Children cried openly now. Women clutched each other, some whispering prayers, others screaming names. Elderly men dropped to their knees, gripping railings with white knuckles.
“We’re sinking—!” “Hold the child—hold him!” “Mother—don’t let go!”
Over twenty lives were moments away from being dashed against the reef line.
Climbing to the prow, boots slipping on rain-soaked planks, every step measured. Time slowed around him.
Rain droplets hung in the air. Foam churned lazily.
The chaos dimmed to a distant ech.
Ship too heavy.
Sits too low.
Poor maneuverabiity.
He raised his hand into the gale. The wind shoved sideway.
The wind is forcing us sideways—into the rocks.
“Toho—this is not the time to daydream!” Imei shouted desperately, wrestling with panicking rowers.
His eyes snapped to the remaining mast stump—its tangled rigging whipping violently, catching wind like a cursed sai.
It’s worsening the drift.
Realization struck like lightning.
“Silence!” he shouted.
His voice was calm—but absolute.
“We have one chance. The ship is too heavy and too slow. We make her light and quick—now!”
No hesitation followed.
“Sawai—mast-pole push!”
Sawai stared back, “You sure? We don’t know how long till land!”
Toho nodded once. No explanation. Only certainty.
“Jettison! Now!”
Hands froze for a heartbeat. Then survival took command.
Barrels were rolled. Splash. Splash.
Chests vanished with hollow splashes. Lifetimes of possessions were sacrificed without farewell.
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
It was Chika.
“Toho—I can help.”
He met her eyes. Daughter of a clan leader. Noble blood. None of that mattered now.
“Good,” he said. “Then you’re with me.”
He turned sharply. “Women and children—low center! Sit tight together—balance the deck!”
“Imei!” he barked. “You and every man not rowing—cargo jettison, now!”
Imei, slim and soaked, grinned nervously. “I really should’ve stayed a scholar.”
Despite fear, movement synchronized. The ship rose, just inches—but it was enough.
Then the sea lifted them.
A massive wave reared like a wall.
“NOW!”
Sawai and his group slammed the mast section against a protruding boulder. Using the wave’s momentum, raw force twisted the bow sideways.
The hull groaned, scraped brutally along submerged rock—wood splintered, water surged below deck.
A child slipped—
“Got you!” he shouted, grabbing the boy’s arm as he dangled over the rail.
“Papa!” the child cried.
“Hold tight, little one" he said, hauling him back. “You’re not dying tonight.”
The ship burst through a narrow channel between rocks.
Free.
Battered. Flooded ankle-deep below deck.
But afloat.
A broken cheer rose—weak, disbelieving, alive.
They bailed water furiously. Toho moved among them, checking faces, gripping shoulders.
He found Chika. Alive. Shaking.
“You did well,” he said quietly.
She exhaled, tears mixing with rain. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
Neither of them smiled.
The storm eased—slightly. The sea smoothed into something passable.
Sawai collapsed onto the deck, laughing breathlessly. “Now that is teamwork.”
Imei lay sprawled nearby. “I never signed up for this".
In the darkness of the night Toho stood scanning beyond the waves.
“There,” he said. “The other ships. Move toward the group.”
Lanterns flickered in the distance—waving frantically.
Unease coiled in his chest.
What if we shouldn’t have left the ruins?
The wind returned violent.
Sawai stared into the black water. "Why is it… rising?"
"What is rising?” Toho asked, turning—
The sea swelled.
Higher.
Higher.
A wall forming where none should exist.
Color drained from Imei’s face. “I’ve seen this… in my homeland.”
Silence fell.
“A tsunami.”
“To all men!” Toho roared. “Women and children—hold them—hold them!”
Too late.
The ocean collapsed.
Ships shattered like toys. Timber exploded. Lanterns vanished. Screams were erased.
Then—nothing.
Black water.
Silence.
From the wreckage, bodies surfaced. Men swimming with women and children clutched to debris.
Toho broke the surface coughing—eyes searching wildly.
“CHIKA!”
She was sinking faster.
“Imei!” Sawai shouted.
Imei tied a rope around Toho’s waist without a word.
“GO!”
Toho dove.
The pressure crushed him. Darkness pressed in. He found Chika, limp—pulled her upward—
But strength failed.
“Sawai—PULL!” Imei screamed.
They dragged them up.
Air tore back into Toho’s lungs as he coughed violently.
“Hold on,” Sawai gasped. “We’ve got you.”
Vision blurring.
The night deepened.
The sea calmed.
And consciousness slipped away.
The water stopped tasting salty.
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9WTD2KaPGh
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnUw6TMl8Vv
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhZfUGmCeZC
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ46Ko5pVz9
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD07xOgrFdr
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJRWS1N83ws
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHtGfLQeXPa
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtotmkPnCIZ
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcCTfQ1bpCg
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP2aa5JCk13
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3tuarRguj6
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfbX1LT9xMX
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzjLWYtL1s6
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqrjYj7dV7a
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWgXoBsRfKF
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwpy4XJrUVc
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFqTWQ2vGLD
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh9yMPIDKTM
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKGgXXeztLf
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN4vXnAlYaB
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv26vnhFCMa
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMGsiywEO2s
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoL7OhWYAPJ
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWiGgzp15Y0
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRDBw1mNMOp
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqzuOm1yDsB
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHtwJJRkteW
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡozpVl6JJKd
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo30tTZ2ksc
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8bRfVrmTLx
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpIy7wTAgYE
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWfWbJu67Ir
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEuO6JBUsEH
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWJrVhj2G7H
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqnaehqAyEr
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8NPf6EyUJ1
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvnHhUOWfCX
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH8AbNtuDYa
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPL1oKzLjX2
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwjj6YWcZdA
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8SMULbvWc8
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBOPkrQA9W4
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmryM5LEoLg
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEhzFYKEtXB
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAwUW5xMvxN
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS3bm3A5CS5
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡph3MWLi1qs
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxwkgfcSHa5
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡysZZAyNzpB
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgUgsGQioTq
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFtclx3ICi5
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXxoz8xQIvZ
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjZTRP0zvsN
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMPbLhquB0i
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs5SpTm3GuI
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1dcvPQdQFR
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1LLbhHEwTK
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVsXmt1qBkN
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm8w95qDRC5
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL5FymchkLg
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLWqtkuAedk
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA4LF6twqfb
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpJkvcBuP90
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwRUiSUXhIA
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoOTNMo1wkl
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAvTrDJ8WP6
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQm5SPcANbo
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR9NDIbzfs6
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmI5mfr0h7v
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgyA5HT98dw
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvOZzvuTCME
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyUwW0xS7HN
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwlltjZxro2
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaDBOnyYdPa
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ197L4tAokj
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwGqY9ZBEG4
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7bLfoNpNtd
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8G0iDvJkvs
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4SdEsrxgIi
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5DAqLlpTjD
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhHYOLqYfoA
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBWcaio75xW
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5EwffK5zFt
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWz4Y4xY48g
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH7N7lO8NAF
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTHp3j1NBYO
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpyc9eOjr0E
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo3rdB8AKaM
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfj1rxV082S
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsH8XhdxSvV
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf80wAdZA1y
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqes27143O6
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnavWeEBACK
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJuvDn1HOQc
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2vsg8gqoqu
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDNNBFBHM6i
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ68acvPhzuj
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvRuoOOJm6v
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQW2li3vl0K
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4risuQ6Ham
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNRMz1X7z9h
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ63TjOre9yB
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpDDzZ2evmQ
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyDdoL4nS7O
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrnVa9iGCZe
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLToYWndWdR
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu3Ccuvipqd
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdPfhDgf0JZ
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWbPMrccx8Q
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPj5ks4c6RW
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlH1czv8CXv
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡahOzLvzM7j
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQWMSnp1zny
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRhNli5ygP8
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTNJVk00Wee
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXEtyXU3pbm
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgBmv1e7vjZ
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTkuhX2deds
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ88MSH9z9YF
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXVBUyUcDs4
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdXxg7dj4OF
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8XC6gS9e0L
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQT6BQk3axn
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTSXs8xbciv
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1PJl04k27b
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYAAysTHXDL
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7YjzCILUQO
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzH9vVB3Qi1
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBisR881uk9
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbmiRCffF4y
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNpwSJTfBZF
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcoLF7iCy2x
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHCQqN8HVf6
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjHebrJ7cPD
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9n4FWOJMaO
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡedy5vhZUdc
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpUBUmOLezO
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHjgauKbSHT
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVhO309BnQK
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW0g40ctKSn
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzFmtXJdau1
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBqoItZlUAj
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM9v9ob3F2K
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXtths4RL9q
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqZhpXTS09Y
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡseyIUvsJxP
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpFKlr3EgyH
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7HHNM3LFm5
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPp7NHU2whN
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ87qyi2i2XP
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpJkLs2YjZm
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡacNLdnZzHn
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfAsa0kWIUC
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrxvB0EbVy2
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6bFHpoVwIT
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsMdfVqUzoI
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4HVLXJwY2V
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTteGycvdo0
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrIUwQMXY0U
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ26H111fTS8
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFGNlIzoaW4
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡezdCdX2l3Y
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgDT58Hec7B
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZxPogQHQFg
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzAGJIqkQw4
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPl7O4K2UJu
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNSEboQWvOG
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTA5Q1h4waN
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKUPR7aCYVp
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVetqqGGrY7
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7pF4YDgJXh
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDf2lNEAIN4
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlX9ElL8NFY
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuSNt3gBIxe
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEz8jhiCavr
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡys2osypO1H
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL0LRKJQhMB
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa9TolxQUp7
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ58zEwEEXPz
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCAe0N6OliC
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVIu2WzmKgY
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwDfINxJ0cX
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyxvgwHH42D
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqj5biFfI8B
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBAQSk3KTMn
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqDey3L35MS
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOlmvfIJeif
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG1p4elHPEg
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLIDW4aoxqb
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJzsjjI5lcb
55Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS4RxhTtImi
Want to read the whole book? Join my Patreon: https://patreon.com/phoinixLEAP, and stay tuned for more updates.
and then Add to home screen.