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... trembled ever so slightly, but his gaze was locked in.

— "I hate this kind of job... I’m no expert in explosives, you know."

— "And yet you’re the only one who knows just enough to keep us from getting blown to hell."

Behind him, Dante kept watch, his eyes scanning. Then—a faint crackling, followed by footsteps.

A lean silhouette emerged from the corridor, flames licking at his feet like a malevolent will-o’-the-wisp.

The man looked like a nightmare come ...

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