On a small road leading from Jiangyue City to Nanshan, there is a large area of tall and dense sorghum.

In autumn, ripe sorghum is firm and plump, and the yellow ears sway in the wind, looking like rolling mountains from above.

It's just that this mountain range is not perfect, it stopped abruptly in one place, like a hole smashed by a meteorite, and the swarthy precipitation here.

At this time, the "hole" ......

Chapter 57 Hypnosis is being hit by hand, please wait a moment,

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