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... Callum in the parking lot again.
Whistles motioned around the empty space. Their fists moved quicker than a fly’s buzz. Their kicks hit harder than a truck’s bump.
Each strike landed with a dull thud that traveled up to their bones.
At the last moment, Hans executed a punch aimed at Callum’s head. A soft palm blocked the attack, halting both of their momentum.
"How’s that?"
Hans pulled back his hand, flexing his fingers. The knuckles were red, skin hot fr ...
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