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Chapter 126. Worth.
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... ly insulted his genius.
It was supposed to be a "double bacon gourmet supreme" or something with at least five adjectives on the label. But as he chewed it, the bun felt like sponge, the meat like cardboard, and the pickles—well, what sort of masochist put soggy pickles in a scientific mind’s lunch?
He chewed mechanically, staring into the air with dead eyes. Around him, the underground city buzzed with life, steam rising from grills, flashing lights from stalls, and people selli ...
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