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ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZabcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz0123456789
Yuki Asahi’s confusion lasted less than half a second.
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Jiang Jian Yue’s figure shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow, wrapped in wind and snow, lunging fiercely!
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She curled her fingers into claws, the sound of them slicing through the air aiming straight for his throat—clearly not holding back at all!
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Yuki Asahi’s pupils shrank.
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Driven by instinct, his body snapped back, narrowly dodging the deadly swipe.
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The collar of his yukata fluttered wildly from the sharp wind at her fingertips.
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“What are you dodging for?”
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Her eyes held no tears now—only a nearly uncontrollable, icy fighting spirit and… embarrassment.
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The impact of admitting her feelings was far greater than she expected.
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At this moment, only the outburst of physical instinct could let her escape the surge of unfamiliar emotions.
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Yuki Asahi was forced to the very edge of the terrace, his back pressed against the cold railing, nowhere left to retreat.
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A flash of cold light passed through Jiang Jian Yue’s eyes.
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A sharp hand chop, carrying the momentum to cleave steel, tore through the falling snow, slicing down toward his neck!
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No way to dodge!
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Yuki Asahi stopped evading.
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Instead, he moved forward.
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His right arm tensed instantly, the yukata fabric stretched taut with a groan as he forcefully blocked the deadly chop.
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The pain of impact made him grunt, but his movements didn’t slow.
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At the same time, his left hand shot out, precisely seizing Jiang Jian Yue’s wrist, exposed from the momentum of her attack!
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No longer defense, but a firm intent to subdue the opponent.
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He had to make her stop!
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“Ugh!”
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The pain of her wrist being caught in an iron grip made the girl groan, her movements stalling.
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Her other arm instinctively bent to counterattack, slamming toward Yuki Asahi’s ribs, but was similarly caught and held firmly by his other hand.
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In an instant, the two were locked in a struggle!
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Bodies pressed together on the perilous, narrow edge of the terrace.
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They could feel each other’s rapid, burning breath—whether from intense movement… or something else—blowing against their faces, heartbeats pounding through the thin yukata.
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Jiang Jian Yue struggled fiercely.
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In the heated contest, her yukata’s sash came undone, the collar slipping to reveal a large expanse of snow-white skin.
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Gasping, she glared at the boy in front of her with cold, unwavering eyes.
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Their noses were almost touching, the lingering sensation of lips and warm breath magnified by the closeness, mixing with the chill of killing intent and shame.
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She paid no attention to the fallen yukata.
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Seizing Yuki Asahi’s moment of distraction, she tripped him.
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Yuki Asahi crashed to the ground.
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The girl immediately followed, sitting forcefully on his stomach—even with her slight weight, it nearly made him cough up his dinner.
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“You lost.”
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Jiang Jian Yue sat atop him, breathing lightly.
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This amount of exertion shouldn’t have left her so disheveled, but…
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Embarrassment clung to her heart, making every movement feel exhausting.
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“Alright. I admit defeat.”
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Yuki Asahi smiled wryly.
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His yukata had been pulled up, the thin fabric straining to the point of tearing.
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“Don’t laugh… idiot…”
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***
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Outside the door, the hallway.
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A flurry of urgent, chaotic footsteps approached, accompanied by Koji Hattori’s breathless shouts and pounding on the door:
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“Yuki-kun! Yuki-kun! Missy! Open up! Calm down! Don’t fight!”
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“Egami! Yuki-kun! Hurry and open the door!”
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Saori Saiyonji’s anxious voice followed closely.
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Inside the room, near the terrace door.
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The two, tightly entwined, froze simultaneously.
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Jiang Jian Yue hiccupped, abruptly lifting her head from Yuki Asahi’s embrace.
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Tear stains still streaked her face, red eyes flickering with panic.
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Pressing the yukata—or more accurately, the tattered fabric—against herself, she hurriedly stood and dashed into the room.
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With a leap, she landed on the bed, tightly wrapping herself in the bedding.
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Yuki Asahi climbed up from the floor, taking a deep breath to steady his own chaotic heartbeat and ragged breathing, and quickly walked to the entrance.
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His hand touched the doorknob, then paused.
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In a low voice, he spoke to the cocoon on the bed:
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“Predecessor… I’ll open the door and explain. You… don’t worry.”
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There was no response from within the bedding.
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Yuki Asahi sighed helplessly, wiped his face, tried to make his expression look “normal,” and gently opened the door.
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“Yuki-kun! Are you alrig—huh?”
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Koji Hattori, who had been about to kick the door, quickly lowered his foot as it opened.
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His anxious question caught in his throat.
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His gaze swept instantly over Yuki Asahi’s disheveled yukata, the exposed collarbone beneath the open neck, and a fresh red mark on his neck—like it had been scratched by fingernails.
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Saori Saiyonji’s eyes were especially sharp.
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She spotted a light purple sash lying on the floor by the open glass terrace door.
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“It’s fine! You can go back and rest!”
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Yuki Asahi had no idea how they found out about the fight and didn’t want to know.
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He hurriedly waved them off.
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“Missy… wasn’t hurt, was she?”
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Koji Hattori’s gaze was a bit odd.
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“She wasn’t hurt!”
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Yuki Asahi quickly denied it.
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“Just… a minor scuffle. It’s resolved.”
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“The Predecessor is… not to be disturbed right now.”
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Saori Saiyonji tugged on Koji Hattori’s sleeve, lowering her voice:
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“Hattori-san, I think we might have… interrupted a certain ‘resolution process.'”
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Koji Hattori coughed twice, his tone growing complicated.
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“Remember, a shotgun marriage is also an option.”
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Yuki Asahi’s face turned crimson.
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He frantically waved his hands.
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“It’s not what you think! We’re just… just…”
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“Alright, alright. I understand, young people’s business. Saiyonji-kun, let’s go!”
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The two “fled,” and before leaving, Saori Saiyonji glanced back and secretly gave a thumbs-up.
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What the heck! You’re all misunderstanding!
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Yuki Asahi closed the door with a stiff expression.
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Silence fell again, broken only by the rustle of wind through the glass.
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He stood in place for a long moment before straightening up, returning to the terrace, picking up the sash from the floor, and closing the door.
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He approached the bed, stepping lightly.
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Looking at the tightly wrapped bundle of blankets, he spoke softly:
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“Predecessor, are you going to sleep?”
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The bundle shrank tighter.
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Yuki Asahi looked helplessly at the “fortress.”
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He hesitated, didn’t try to uncover it, nor did he sit on the bed.
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Instead, he dragged a sofa over to a spot a step away from the bedside and sat down.
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“I’ll stand guard for Predecessor tonight.”
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“…Are you an idiot?”
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A muffled voice finally emerged from the bedding.
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The girl’s head peeked out, lips biting down as she looked at him, her voice squeezed out between her teeth:
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“Come in.”
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Yuki Asahi’s cautious heart finally relaxed, knowing Jiang Jian Predecessor was fine.
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Obediently, he climbed into the bedding.
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The bed was large—compared to the small one at the Amuro Residence, there was plenty of space for two without being crowded.
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“About the girlfriend thing…”
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Yuki Asahi gazed at Jiang Jian Yue’s smooth back, watching the vivid scarlet veins, and asked softly.
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“Before you beat me…”
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Jiang Jian Yue’s voice was stubborn, almost grinding her teeth:
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“No. Not even in the next life!”
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Though rejected, Yuki Asahi strangely didn’t feel disappointed.
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He caught a faint hint of wavering—not entirely denial—in her flustered tone.
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And a touch of irrepressible shyness.
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Compared to her earlier vague answer of “will try to like,” this seemed like… progress?
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At least it was no longer a dodged response, but one laced with strong personal emotion.
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“Oh… okay.”
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He replied, but a smile crept into his voice.
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“Then… before the next life, can I still call you ‘Yue’?”
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Jiang Jian Yue didn’t respond at first.
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Just when Yuki Asahi thought she was going to play dead, an almost inaudible reply floated out:
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“Suit yourself.”
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“Yue, like.”
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The ‘Yue’ in Jiang Jian Yue and the word ‘like’ are homophones.
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“Like, Yue.”
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“Get lost!”
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***
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“Alert lifted.”
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A fiber-optic drone rose to the seventh-floor height.
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The woman nodded at the image transmitted to her tablet.
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On the yacht, everyone let out a sigh of relief.
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Just now, Missy had suddenly attacked that Yuki kid—though no one knew why, there must have been a deeper reason.
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Whoever Missy attacked was the enemy!
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The woman recalled the drone, then stood and stretched, her bodysuit hugging her curvaceous figure as her indigo ponytail swayed.
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Suddenly, a soft thud came from the yacht’s railing.
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Crimson light flickered, outlining a figure—a man clad in streamlined armor.
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The armor was a matte black that absorbed all light, as if forged from solidified shadow.
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It wasn’t the bulky full plate of tradition, but fit to the wearer’s body like a second skin, defining every muscular line with a sense of power and agility.
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Buzz—
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The only color was the hellish red glow burning at several points—the collar rising to mask the lower face, and at the center of the chest, a slowly pulsing circular energy core.
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From his waist down, a war skirt fluttered in the night wind like unfurling wings of death.
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Standing there, he was like a death god from a dark future.
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Click—
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The armor split open.
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The man in the bodysuit tumbled out, collapsing to his knees on the deck.
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A foreign man with western features, pain etched deep in his green eyes.
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“Hiss… ah! fvck!”
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Sweat poured onto the deck in an instant, pooling around him.
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“Don’t push yourself, White Falcon.”
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The burly black man beside the woman quickly helped the man to his feet.
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“I’m fine!”
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White Falcon’s face still twitched.
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He turned to the woman.
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“Maria, what happened?”
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“Just… a lover’s quarrel.”
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Maria’s gaze wavered.
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Calling people over for something like this felt unfair to White Falcon’s physical state.
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“……….”
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White Falcon lowered his head and gave a bitter laugh.
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“As long as Missy is safe, that’s all that matters.”
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“How’s Sapporo?”
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Maria asked casually.
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“Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu and the Seventh Division are acting as usual. Also, we’ve observed signs of… Russians.”
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“Russians?”
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