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... he car, his voice low as he ordered to head to the hotel. He lowered his gaze, quietly examining the woman drenched in the reek of alcohol, yet unusually quiet and obedient.
"Name," Ignatius said in a low, hushed voice, tinged with somberness.
The woman froze for a moment, struggling to maintain a thread of rationality, and weakly replied, "Time."
Ignatius’s face instantly darkened, his long, sharp eyes narrowing into slits. He reached out and pinched her palm-sized face, ...
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