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... ife, especially at an age well past his prime. His usual monocle had disappeared somewhere, and his meticulously combed hair was now a mess for the first time in ages. Despite the biting winter wind, sweat trickled down his forehead. Emile wiped the sweat off his brow and pushed open a creaking wooden door.

“This...should do.”

The potion’s effects, which lasted barely half a day, were starting to wear off. Emile Borden felt his face gradually returning to its original form. He ha ...

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