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Casio, seated on the red chair at the head of the room, revealed a faint smile. He lifted his head, his flat, waveless eyes gazing at the tightly closed doors of the conference hall.
With a clank, the iron door was pushed open from the outside, and sunshine poured in. An aged silhouette dressed in a black and white steward’s uniform walked in.
Amos, whose arrival at the guild hall had gone unnoticed, clicked his leather shoes on the marble ground. He raised his right han ...
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