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... s dark corridors, his footsteps echoing with violent purpose. His fingers kept tracing the rope burns on his wrists, each touch feeding his rage.
" I will allow the assassin weaken him"
he thought, his reflection in passing mirrors showing a twisted version of his once-handsome face.
"But I’ll deliver the final blow myself."
In his room, he pulled out his phone, staring at old photos from school - him at the center of every group, the unquestioned king of campus. ...
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