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... ss of the mask rubbing against his back. He’d tucked it under his shirt to keep it hidden, and the ceramic surface pressed cool and hard against his skin with every step he took.

He reasoned inwardly that this wasn’t the best of plans. Not even close. It was crude, hastily thought out, full of holes. Under normal circumstances, he would have spent more time planning, more time preparing. He would have scouted Xino’s routines, found the perfect moment, the perfect place. He would have bee ...

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