C302 CHAPTER302 MIDDLE GRADE SPIRIT VEIN

Rumors swirled around him as Fletcher's face flushed from pale to crimson and back to pale again.

"Damn you, Sam Moreels! Not you again! Setting me up, time after time!"

"Why? Why must I be cursed with bad luck every time you cross my path?"

Grimacing, Fletcher's expression darkened as he touched his absent right arm, the phantom pain throbbing mercilessly.

"Bastard!"

"Sam Moreels