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... of blue smoke rose from the lit clay furnace, like the unpredictable twists of thoughts. The scent of pine resin filled the meeting space, masking the herbal smell and the scent of death emanating from the old man.
The aged Takeda Nobuhiro sat cross-legged in front of the table. He looked extremely emaciated, and the wide Family Head robe on his body seemed even broader than ever. His face appeared very old as he observed the shiny table in front of him, remaining silent without speaking ...
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