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... job, you punks.’

“Mister boss,” the young man called. He had short dark hair and a baby face, which was contrasted by the fact he was as wide as a bull, thick with muscle, and even towered over the likes of Adam.

“Nobby, my boy, how have you been?” Adam asked, patting the young man on his shoulders, feeling how sturdy they were.

“Good,” the boy replied. He held up a necklace of beads. “A gift.”

Adam allowed the boy to leave before his eyes snapped to the figures h ...

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