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Inside the brightly lit coffee shop, the fan slowly turns, brushing against Xia Pingzhou’s side face, lifting the fringe of his black hair.
One or two passersby paused on the street, seemingly wanting to knock on the glass door, but upon seeing a "Close" sign hanging on the door, they regretfully turned and left.
"How did the last No. 12 of the group die?"
Ji Minghuan asked while scooping coffee with a spoon, looking up at the few group members by the table.
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