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... stared at the map on the ground. Even if the light was dim, they could still clearly see the pencil lines winding on the rough paper.
The little black hand was frightened by the instant dignified atmosphere. It shrank under Yejia's collar and tried to turn itself into a pendant again.
"Two... Doors?" Yejia murmured.
He pressed his hand on the map, and the map below his palm made a thin friction sound with the ground, which was particularly abrupt in the dead corridor.
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